We think that the Baron's Major Domo is the one pulling the strings, but we don't have much evidence. All we know for sure is that the shuttle, with 72 people on board, that exploded just outside the down port DIDN'T have Alexander on it. It had someone who LOOKED like him, but we've confirmed that he wasn't on board. He was wisked away in a laundry basket from the conference center. The outside security camera that didn't get it's tapes erased showed one of the laundry baskets getting loaded into an air/raft instead of the service truck like the rest.
Of course, now Mick and the rest of the crew have been implicated in the shuttle explosion, so we're sorta laying low. Apparently, Mick arranged for some emergency cargo to be placed on the shuttle minutes before it took off. Of course at the time, Mick was waiting outside the conference center for Alexander to show up. They don't have enough evidence to arrest us yet, but the locals did question us. All they have is an authorization, no audio or video of Mick arranging for the cargo. They took Mick's ID and have told him not to enter the star port or leave the planet till this matter is 'cleared up'.
Our engineer is the only one on our ship at the moment, the rest of the party is on the ground trying to figure out where that air/raft went too.
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Here is some more (I prefer to use the player write-ups because:
1) Their perceptions of the game are different than my own - it is interesting to see how they interpret the information that I give them.
2) I'd hate to correct
their mis-perseptions of the game in these write ups, since they can lead to
interesting events on their own!
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I'm playing a
noble, Alexander, who has been kidnapped by the local mafia on Elixabeth, District
268, Spinward. Lord Harold is my character's evil older brother, and heir apparent.
We're playing early rebellion era. Both Harold and Alexander have visions of
building a pocket empire out of Disctrict 268 since the Imperium is falling
apart. (Hey, gotta have goals, right?) Since my character's been kidnapped,
I've been playing his loyal NPC steward, Mick "I'm just the cook."
Anyway, since I can't play Alexander at the regular games, we've been running
the kidnapping on-line. Here the latest exchange between myself and my GM.
------------
From the GM:
*pain*pain*pain*Gutteral, growling voice asking questions, over and over*
"Yourrrrgh brother, Harrrold. Who is his sourrrce? Is leak herrre or on
Grram?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"Who arrre yourrr companions? Why arrrre you here?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"Yourrr codes, give me yourrr overrrride codes"
*pain*pain*pain*relief*
*Bootsteps on cercrete*cold draft blowing over body*no clothes*face
covered*blind*the steady beat of medical monitoring equipment*
"Dammit Groughff - I told you no drugs. Now we'll have to wait until
it flushes out of his system"
"It won't talk, Lorrrd. Chemical interrogation seemed necessarrry."
"And ..."
"It denies knowledge, Lorrrd. It may know nothing, orrr be verrry
carrrefully preparrrred for interrrrogation. Eitherrr is possible when
dealing with Lorrrd Harold. We will know morrre when we access it's
prrrrivate logs."
"Access to the ship could prove ... difficult. I think it best to move
the plan forward, to take care of the father and brother now."
"ahhh ... it is fully awake Lord, may I continue?"
"Proceed."
*pain*pain*pain*
I responded
with the following:
"He holds no respect for you. Chemical interrogation was the only logical
choice."
*pain*pain*pain*
I can tell by his tone that he reeks of racial prejudice."
*pain*pain*pain*
"He is already thinking of replacing you with someone human."
*pain*pain*pain*
"What do *you* want, Groughff?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"Are your needs being met here?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"Do you want to continue being an Imperial tool, or a partner in an Empire?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"Do you want to run free or live shackled to a master for the rest of your
life?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"It should be obvious to you by now that Harold sent me here to die. I
have no knowlege of your masters plans, but Harold must, or he wouldn't have
send me here so uninformed."
*pain*pain*pain*
"What your master fails to realize that my death will play perfectly into
Harold's hands. He needed to eliminate me anyway, and this gives him the opportunity
to kill two birds with one stone."
*pain*...
then I get this
e-mail from the GM this morning:
*pain* ... *pain*
"He is, of course, correct Groughff"
"Lorrrd ... I ... I did not see you there!"
"No. You didn't. Just one more of your many errors."
*Distinctive sound of a high energy capacitor discharging*Sizzling Noises*Organic thumping of flesh hitting cercrete*Sewer odor of death*
"Pity. The personal touch is so much better."
*Cool rag touches face, sharp ... bitter odor eminating from it*Head Swims*Can't ... move*
"Sigh. More drugs to flush from the system. Ah well ... no interruptions please, I'm sure you understand, nothing personal."
*Hand patting cheek*
"Autodoc protocol override - Delta Gamma 5"
"ACKNOWLEDGED"
"Patient input override - Record only"
"ACKNOWLEDGED"
"Symptom script override - Alexanderquestions"
"ACKNOWLEDGED"
"Execute"
*vibration, whirring noises all around*Bootsteps walking away*
*pain*pain*pain*Cold, unemotional voice asking questions, over and over*
"YOUR BROTHER, HAROLD. WHO IS HIS SOURCE? IS THE LEAK HERE OR ON GRAM?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"WHO ARE YOUR COMPANIONS? WHY ARE YOU HERE?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"YOUR CODES, GIVE US YOUR OVERRIDE CODES"
*pain*pain*pain*
--------------------------
Sigh...
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I actually have sent Chris quite a bit of email regarding these games - even though Alexander was kidnapped, he was still getting information that might become quite important down the line. Here are some more of the 'between-game' emails:
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*pain*pain*pain*
"DESCRIBE YOUR FATHER'S SECURITY DETAIL."
*pain*pain*pain*
"YOUR BROTHER HAROLD, WHERE ARE HIS PERSONAL QUARTERS?"
*pain*pain*pain*
"DESCRIBE THE SECURITY..."
"Cancel program"
*fingers running slowly, lightly down your cheek*
"There now. That wasn't so bad, was it? No, no. Don't try and answer. Technician, your scanner please."
'Yes M'lord'
*Quiet whirring noises as something is passed just over length of your body. Several prods and sharp pokes*
'The Truth drug and several of the other drugs are still detectable, M'lord. With one of these, they will be for the next week, at a minimum.'
"Unfortunate. It does complicate matters. And for strictly local tech?"
'A sharp medical examiner might catch 'em for the next day or so, tops.'
"The fleet orders have been inserted into the 'net, correct?"
'Yes M'Lord. They were created using the orders recieved last week - all the codes should still be valid. Vice-Admiral Robbins has already ordered his ship commanders into a vidconference. There will be no warning given to the locals, nor any explanation - as you instructed.'
"Very well, return to the courier and prepare to launch. Do not make for the rondevous until you verify that the Imperial fleet has Jumped out of the system, understand?"
'Yes M'Lord.'
"Instruct the artist that it is necessary that she not be available for several weeks. We have acquired several Medium Passages that she can use to leave this planet. She may have these as a bonus for excellent work and as compensation for the immediate departure."
'Yes M'Lord.'
"Stress immediate. Once she has settled down, have her contact us through the normal channels. I will have more work for her."
'Yes M'Lord.'
"If she chooses not to leave, have her killed. Discreetly. Have Geoff watch her."
'As you wish, M'Lord.'
*Echoes of bootsteps receding*
"Barak"
'M'Lord?'
"His hand computer was useless. I need his private files from the ship. See to it."
'It will be done, M'lord. How, er, discreet should I be?'
"No witnesses. No evidence. Do what needs to be done. "
'Aye aye.'
*Echoes of bootsteps receding*
"Ahh, Alexander. What to do, what to do? I had considered leaving you to the tender mercies of the autodoc until it was time. But somehow, that seemed ... undignified."
*humming*the hissing of crates being opened and resealed*
"In twelve hours, the Imperial fleet will depart this world, taking with them most of the equipment that can detect the drugs that poor Groughff felt compelled to use."
"Ahh, here we go"
*A box opening and being discarded on the ground*plastic unwrapping*
*pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop*
"How quaint. Bubble Wrap."
*The mechanical, ratcheting noise of something being wound up*
"This is an export item, a fairly nice one. It's a ship's clock for one of the TL 5 worlds in this area - are you familiar with them?"
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
"No matter."
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
"If you are familiar with ship's bells, you can tell the time with this clock. One bell is 30 minutes into the watch, two bells is an hour and so on ... until you reach 8 bells, the end of a four-hour watch."
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
"You have three watches remaining, Alexander. When the Imperial fleet leaves orbit, your potential utility is at an end. You become only a ... liability."
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
"But you must be tired. It's been a long day for you. Sleep if you choose. I'll leave instructions not to wake you, if they find you asleep"
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
"We won't meet again, Alexander. Good bye"
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
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And finally, this one.
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*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
*Boot steps on cerment, coming closer*
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
*Two, maybe three people*
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
*Bong* [1 Bell]
"Is he awake?" whispers a voice.
*Bong* [2 Bells]
"Yes." another voice whispers back.
*Bong* [3 Bells]
"I was hoping he would be asleep.", the first voice, still whispering.
*Bong* [4 Bells]
*Bong* [5 Bells]
"Let's get it over with.", commands the second voice, startlingly loud and cold.
*Bong* [6 Bells]
*KKKcht-CHICKT* <--that would be the sound of the action of a auto pistol being worked.
*Bong* [7 Bells]
"Alexander, our orders regarding you are clear. I'm to let you know..."
*Bong* [8 Bells. End of watch.]
"That it's not yet time."
*Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
*Bootsteps on cerment, fading*
*Tick*
*Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock* *Tick* *Tock*
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