Mecha Space Pirate Quest XXIV

Welcome back, Kestrels, to the twenty-fourth installment of Mecha Space Pirate Quest! By popular demand (as in, three of you plus myself wanted to do it), today we have something a little different.

Today is a sneaking mission.


Previous Threads: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Mecha Space Pirate Quest, Collective Game, mecha
Master Pastebin: pastebin.com/sSHs0QmF
Upgrade Menu: pastebin.com/QQQzkFZe
List of Moves: pastebin.com/HSdyCe2y
Rogues' Gallery: pastebin.com/E9ZcDLfG

YOU ARE: Mohammed al Tabir (Age 16)

Attractiveness: 8
Body Type: 7
Cool: 8
Empathy: 10 (Human Perception +1)
Intelligence: 8
[Education]: +3
Luck: 7
Movement Allowance: 6
Reflexes: 10 (Dodge & Escape 5, Mecha Gunnery +5 Mecha Melee +6, Mecha Pilot +6, Melee +5, Rifle +2, Stealth +2, Zero-G +1)
Technical Ability: 7

Rookie Bonus: Anime Hero

Luck Points 7 (refreshes at end of session), Maneuver Pool 1 (refreshes at end of combat, otherwise identical to Luck)

Unlike Caesar, you have some existing IP that has boosted your skills, and your Mecha Pilot and Mecha Melee have been bumped up to 16 from observing the King Swordfish Mk. II during your duel...when you weren't busy being mad at it for destroying your arms with a stupidly big drill.

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=mcE0aAhbVFc
youtube.com/watch?v=CskRKJhQuDc
twitter.com/NSFWRedditImage

Your name is Mohammed al Tabir. You were born almost seventeen years ago on Mars, in Phobos City, to a poor family. Your father taught you how to fight in close with a knife, and how to shoot a man to kill him. These are skills that he honed during the Purging of Mars when he rode with Hakim the Kinless as did his father, uncles, aunts, sisters, and brothers. Of what had been quite a large family, he was the sole survivor, and it left many scars on him both inside and out. Your mother was younger, too young to have been involved in the fighting, but she too lost most of her family and the remainder wanted nothing to do with you. As a child, your primary enjoyment was mugging wealthier children and taking their money to the Jovian Quarter to play Bluegill Joe at the arcade. When you defeated a few adult members of a mercenary band at this game, they recruited you, and after switching bands a few times you ended up working for the insufferable Ibrahim and the Scarlet Talons. This, of course, ended when Commander Ibrahim chose death over dishonor...or perhaps panicked and didn't hit the eject button in time...when he faced the mighty Black Ogre in battle and you found your new calling as a pirate. Crime does not hold any special appeal to you, but growing stronger does. From what you have seen, Roarke Starwind and the Black Ogre have the strongest and most admirable way of living, so you seek to emulate it. Unlike many Martians, your devotion to Hakimite Islam is very lukewarm, although you have learned to make a show of piety around others for the sake of impressing them and getting more work as a mercenary. Sometimes, you suspect that Hakim himself is the same way, but you also know yourself well enough to recognize wishful thinking. It is true, though, that the Sunni-Shi'ia rivalry came to an abrupt halt when both were swept away by the Hakimites.

[Continued]

HYPE FOR METAL GEAR

It is also true that the declaration that humanoid mecha are haram has greatly helped Martian mech companies avoid being steamrolled and absorbed by the mighty Bahamut Corporation and Bucephalus Heavy Industries, the twin giants of Jupiter.

You have had plenty of time to examine your cell, and are already bored with it. It's more white than grey, and shinier, but otherwise identical to the cell on the Rhinehawk that you spent a brief period of time in. From what you saw on your way in, most of the brig is empty, there is a man with shaggy blonde hair in the cell to your left and a woman with short, mousy hair on the right. As you did on the pirate ship, you meditate to pass the time. Mostly, you meditate on your failure.

[Continued]

>but everyone has reflex 10

I think I'll be more surprised at seeing someone WITHOUT reflex 10 at this point.

Ey boss

For the first time in your career as an officer, you were given the responsibility of being in charge. No, that isn't right. You insisted on it, because you are used to being better than everyone your own age, because you thought you could win. Because you thought you had become like the Black Ogre...but you are not the Black Ogre, and neither was your mech. Inwardly, that part makes you the sorriest, you failed the machine that you were given, the machine that you customized and personalized to suit your fighting style. The fact that the fight could have gone the other way doesn't matter, you failed, and the fact that your comrades prepared a backup plan in case you failed doesn't make you feel any better because it implies that they suspected it. However, you refuse to submit to depression over this, and resolve to use it to grow. Although the man trusted with training you in the sword and rifle, Captain Oda, is clearly insane, most of the things he does have some bizarre reason behind them. All you can do is trust that you will discover why he gambled your freedom like this rather than simply taking the three SOUL machines by force with the aid of the Master Harpies.

You try to quash the thought that it was for the sake of a larger mech and a resin model of the King Swordfish. You try very, very hard.

[Continued]

Dexterity is a godstat again. Also if the character using Setsuna's portrait didn't have Reflexes 10, there would be something very, very wrong with the world. What is it with RPGs and Dexterity, anyway?

Lets be fair here, to be an ace in any ride you're going to need some damn good reflexes.

After being hauled out of your dis-armed Master Harpy by the loud man with the strange strip of hair down the center of his head and the wild beard on his face, a man you are somewhat shocked to know is the brother of the pretty and graceful Corporal that loves your new boss, you were dragged to this cell and thrown inside. You barely had time to whisper to him that you had a message from Samantha and give him the frequency without being overheard. And now, you wait. You could sing along with the tune the man in the cell next to you keeps repeating, over and over again, but you suspect you will need your voice soon. You are well aware of how the UJCIDF deals with pirates.

Thankfully, the song, which seems to be a Jabberwocky-esque mixture of regular words and gibberish, is interrupted by a stream of profanity as a pair of guards and the Lieutenant with the bizarre hair return. They stand outside, autorifles at port, while he enters and sits down across from you.

"Alright, bastard, I've got some questions that need answering. Keep in mind, you're being recorded." He takes out his military PC and sets it to record. You still have your PC, but the cells block communications outside, making it rather useless to you unless you want to read the comics you got from the Rhinehawk's helmsman and your friend, Avi Silversmith. Looking closely, you suspect that the Lieutenant is trying to sound more gruff than he actually feels.

"Tell me about yourself, about this pirate band of yours, and about Roarke Starwind. Be cooperative and maybe I can convince the Colonel to be lenient. You haven't met her yet, but trust me, you're lucky to be dealing with me instead of her. Choose not to play ball, though, and that can change real quick."

>[What say?]

"We are playing ball? My friend, this room isn't large enough and I see no basketball."

'What Would Miles Do'

>"Well then I shall play ball. Where is the ball? What kind of ball? Is it the ball of bases?"

I really don't know what we are supposed to say, here. Mindless drivel about the crew? Shit that anyone would know just by looking at it?

I mean, I know I'm not going to try to say anything actually incriminating.

>What Would Miles Do

So this is what they mean when they talk about bad life decisions.

As far as bad life choices go, emulating Miles is pretty far up there. Never go full Miles.

>"My name is Mohammad al Tabir. I am uncertain what I can tell you without compromising my personal integrity, but what would you like to know?"

>browsing the manuals earlier, statting mechs by way of procrastination
>you can get a sentient onboard AI
>but for some reason it's also based off the total cost of your mech
>wielding a bigger slab of metal inexplicably requires a more expensive AI
I'm so confused.

Isn't it proper manners to introduce yourself first? Must be a difference in culture. My name is Mohammed Al Tabir, serving under the Iron Kestrel admiral, Roarke Starwind. Do you have paper for me to write on? I insist my name be spelled right. Quite a sight to see an UJCIDF battlecruiser in pirate space. Though I am sort of nervous about being recorded.

Make visual queues you want to find out where the cameras are as you say last sentence. Idle talk bout nothing while we start writing things that Sam wanted to say.

'What Would Miles Not Do'

Are you going to get a shit AI to help fly your massively expensive mecha?

Also if fellow gihren's greed user is out there, how the fuck do you capture odessa? Every time I go down there I wipe the floor with any feddie tanks and planes but they have one fucking bollocks of a ship in the water that does nothing but waste time and run away from anything that gets close.

capture all the bases.

and yeah, subs are complete bullshit when playing as zeon. only effective anti-sub you have early game are dodai riders.

"My name is Mohammed al Tabir. I am uncertain what else I can tell you, since we have only just met. We are playing ball? My friend, this room is too small and I see no basket. Perhaps it is the ball of bases? Ah, but we do not have enough of us here for teams...alas, I cannot play as you like." You sigh, deliberately thickening your accent to mess with him.

He bristles like a stuck hog, "DON'T GET SMART WITH ME BOY, I'LL FUCKING REQUISITION YOU AN ASS-KICKING."

"I am a Martian citizen who has committed no actual crimes. Please, check my record." You dare him, "Violate interplanetary law and I guarantee I can find a Martian lawyer who will have me living quite comfortably off your pension until I am old and grey."

He sputters, grabs his PC, brings up the Bounty Computer program, and checks you. All that comes up is your name and that you're a member of a now-dissolved PMC, which is completely legal. You smile cheerfully at him.

He growls, "You're a bloody officer of the Iron Kestrels!"

"Am I? Perhaps I was joking. After all, I was gambled away, I could very well be a prisoner." You maintain your calm effortlessly.

"IN A BLOODY MECH AFTER DUELING CAESAR BLOODY MERROW!?"

"I am quite the fan of sport." You reply, smugly, "But since you are so keen on knowing, I am Mohammed al Tabir. While your program is running, when does my mercenary license expire? I am quite curious."

"In a few months on your fucking birthday, you know that. Now tell me about my sister." He stands up to loom over you. It doesn't work. Not since the Black Ogre tore out your cockpit have you been afraid of mortals.

"She has black lipstick and enjoys frilly monochromatic clothing. She smiles often, but not obviously, and when she speaks it is quiet. As her brother, should you not know this already?"

You can hear harshly accented laughter from the cell next to yours, and the Lieutenant pounds on the wall with his fist until the noise quiets down.

[Continued]

Fuck.

>this is just Cool 8
Goddamn.

Moh is a natural. Of course being under the influence of the most notable pirates in the system helps. No spaghetti drops unlike Caesar.

It's not a matter of how expensive an AI I want, it's a matter of how grabbing a slightly larger sword causes my AI to inexplicably become more expensive as well.

I understand that the need for a degree of abstraction between fluff and crunch, but this in particular puzzles the hell out of me.

It now needs to process more weight and more length.

A simple increase in size means it needs to adjust all calculations around the weapon, which requires more processing power, thus more expensive AI.

Yes, Mo, continue to seek the path of the Black Ogre! Only through the Cool of Starwind can you be saved, the path of the Weaboo is the path of ruin!

I wonder who those prisoners are? Lets bust then out and get em to join our crew

That would make sense, if I wasn't also separately paying for an increase in Intelligence as well. As it is, it feels like I'm paying for the same thing twice.

I'm actually just sad I couldn't stat out an affordable sentient robot dog mechabeast without resorting to ridiculous chicanery.

You make a writing gesture at him, and his eyes light up. He fumbles around in his pockets, and pulls out an antique notepad and pen. Useful because it's easier to erase permenently than data. He sits down at the table again, hunched so that his broad back blocks the camera on the wall outside the cell directly behind him.

You write 'She is fine and happy.'

He reads it, nods, and writes, 'Do I sound angry enough?'

You nod back, and write, 'Remember, we are supposed to be enemies and you have supposedly not spoken with your sister'

He nods again, and says loudly, "YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME? I'LL DANGLE YOUR TOES OUT THE AIRLOCK AND LET SPACE FREEZE THEM RIGHT OFF YOUR FEET. GOOD LUCK FINDING A LAWYER WHEN YOU CAN'T WALK! NOW TALK, BEFORE I GET ANGRY!"

"Are we not speaking? My friend, your blood pressure is a thing you should watch, I am sure your sister would say the same."

He grunts loudly, and writes, 'Is what she told me true? I admit, there are things that don't add up.'

You nod, and write 'When can I leave?'

He scribbles 'I don't know. It isn't my call.'

Now it's your turn to scowl. You don't want to be sitting in a cell, you want to be back on the Rhinehawk playing Bluegill Joe, practicing your sword skills, and repairing your mech. The thought that the person who beat you has the luxury to do all of these things right now galls you, he is probably growing stronger at this very moment.

You have no way to know that this so-called Caesar playing Demon's Souls, the Simgame, right now.

Of course, despite what you've done for Lieutenant Pierre Blanchett, he has every reason not to want you to leave. You are, right now, the only hostage from the Iron Kestrels the UJCIDF has, and the only remote hope the man likely sees for getting his sister back. This isn't a difficult deduction to make, you have always had a truly remarkable ability for sizing up and understanding other human beings.

[Continued]

"We'll talk again, scumbag." Growls the bullish man in the white uniform, "I was gonna offer you some gum, but since you're a snide little shit I'll keep it for myself." He rips the paper quietly as he talks, and eats it. You...you suppose that is one way of destroying the evidence.

"Ben went to Goobang Creek, and that was his downfall
For riddled like a sieve was valiant Ben Hall
'Twas early in the morning upon the fifth of May
When seven police surrounded him as fast asleep he lay." Echoes out from the cell next to you.

The Lieutenant growls and punches the wall again, so hard you're surprised it doesn't leave a dent, before he gets up. "Alright, scum. Stay here with the traitor and the psychotic, you'll have to answer to the Colonel next." He gets up and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You wince a little. You have never won a single sparring match with blades against Samantha Blanchett, and she attributes her skill to the Colonel who taught her. You gather that Colonel Stern is supposed to be a remarkable man, but surely any UJCIDF Colonel is a fearsome foe, and cannot be taken lightly.

You barely hear the "He's all yours, ma'am." before you look up and see a woman in a spiked helmet with auburn hair pulled back in a rather matronly hairstyle. She has her palms and nose pressed flat against the plasteel, leaving little puffs of mist from her breath as she stares at you.

She seems to be in no hurry to speak. She has a purple and white uniform trimmed in cold, but...this can't possibly be the Colonel. No way.

>[What do you want to say to her?]

>Ma'am your fogging up the glass

Give her a brief nod or bow in greeting, staring back at her silently all the while.

Hmmm, where to start? Just a simple greeting asking what does she wish to ask. Be a pilot young martian man, but keep an eye open.

>You have no way to know that this so-called Caesar playing Demon's Souls, the Simgame, right now.
The Legend Never Dies.

Oh lord, I thought the australian was going with fairchild.

Yeah nah ya cunt.

I told you, this whole set up was to get the aussie killed!

"Salaam." You greet her with a polite smile.

Her eyes go wide, and she mumbles something, much too quietly for you to hear.

You try again, "Salutations?"

She sighs softly, "Oh Juno, it's even fluffier in person than over the cams..."

"M-Ma'am?" You're momentarily off balance, she's difficult to get a read on. She's just staring at you.

You stare back.

She clears her throat, smooths out her uniform, and opens the door, one hand on the butt of her sidearm, "Hello." Her voice sounds nervous, and she leans against the wall rather than sit down.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Mohammed al Tabir, and I have done nothing wrong. Please, when may I be released? I have tickets to Red Siren's next concert, and I would be very sad if I couldn't attend."

It's almost like she doesn't hear you, "What is the relationship between you and the cousin of Admiral Starwind's hostage, Lady Fatima Ahmad of Mars?"

You blink, "I...errr...ma'am I don't...what is this?" You can't keep the confusion out of your voice.

She sighs again, "Such a cute accent. The Admiral mentioned her."

You wince, "Lady Fatima was my charge, and I have provided bodyguard services for her when she visited her cousin before. This cousin, she provides generous donations to an orphanage in New Medina and takes care of the children. She teaches them songs." You let your real feelings seep into your voice, "Every time. Every single time I visit, she parades the children out and has them sing this song. Every single time. It has no real rhythm, barely any tune, but she makes them sing loudly to compensate. By Allah it does not help. It does not help at all." Visiting that orphanage was among the most dreaded of all your duties as one of Lady Fatima's 'knights'.

She regards you for a moment, clearly working up her courage, then blurts out, "YOUNG MAN DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?"

>[Say yes]
>[Say no]

>>[Say no]

>>[Say no]
it begins

>buh uh wah?

>[Say no]

Well he doesn't. Does Moe have the hots for anyone? I can't recall.

He does now!

>Not yet
He has the hots for his gundam.

>[Say no]
Man, these are some high level interrogation techniques.

>Remember Mohammed. What would Admiral Starwind do?
>[Say No]
>If all Colonels look as lovely as you are, perhaps we should have surrendered sooner.

First she unsettles with disconcerting eye contact, then she invades their personal lives.

What could be next in this heinous style of interrogation?

Petting his fluffy hair, with no permission.

"Buhwah n-no!" This is not what you expected. This is not what you expected at all. By Allah this should not be what she is saying.

"Not anyone?" She tilts her head to the side, leaning a little more towards you, "Nobody you have feelings for?"

You have lived as someone who seeks strength and transcendence of your birth station through your skill as a pilot. You have had no time for romance. There were girls, yes, but that was for fun, never anything serious. Your only commitment is to your mech, "No, no one...yet."

"Ee! So you are single." She questions, the force of her interrogation suddenly much more intense.

"Yes, I am wholly unattached." You speak rather quickly. True, Lady Fatima seems to have some intention of setting you up with her cousin...but no, you could not bear to hear that damned song one more time, especially that one time she programmed your Tulwar to play it when it started up and the other pilots all laughed at you and started singing it too.

A shiver runs through her. She bites her lower lip and looks around nervously, "Can I...may I touch your hair?"

You nod slowly, not sure where this is going. She walks over, reaches out...and touches it. Hesitantly at first, then petting you like a cat. You are so confused.

"Kyaaaa...it's so soft..." She sighs, "I just want to...to..." She snatches her hand back abruptly, her face as red as you suspect yours is. You see yourself reflected in her eyes, "I...I can't...I mustn't...I'm...I'm..." She pulls back as though scalded, "I'msorryIhavetogolotsofimportantColonelthingstodobebacklatertocheckonyou!"

You have never seen a UJCIDF officer run away like that.

[Continued]

This is Moe's fate. His hair will be forever petted. We will find out and pet his hair after a job well done. Oda will find out and do so along with the maids. THIS IS IS FATE NOW.

>HFW

After a few minutes, the man in the cell next to yours begins singing his nonsense song again. Only this time, you hear something else, from the cell on your other side. Chuckling.

And then, a voice. A woman's voice. "I say, do the two of you want to get out? The guards just passed and won't do so again for several more minutes. If you do, remove the panel to the left of the door. I unscrewed it this morning and made some alterations, I wasn't sure what cell they would put me in so I fixed all of them this way. Do you see two exposed wires, black and white? Good. Carefully grip the rubberized parts and touch the metal together, the doors will slide open. By my estimation, and in keeping with standard military protocol when running a full check and keeping those fools busy running around after my modifications, they should have finished with the mech bay by now and have everyone with half a speck of technical knowledge combing the ship's computers for sabotage. Weapons are next, so we need to hurry before they pass by here. Or you can stay, it's your choice."

You check the panel, it is indeed loose and, just as she said, the wires are there. You hear the cells on either side open at once.

A thin man with blonde hair, many small scars, and an unsettling look in his eyes strolls past, still humming his song. He's wearing a prisoner's jumper.

You touch the wires together. After all, you suspect the UJCIDF has no intention of releasing you any time soon. Your door springs open.

"Oi ya muzzie cunt, you one of the ones that blows up?" The blonde man says, by way of a greeting.

"No, those are Shi'a." You explain, "I am Hakimite."

He looks profoundly disappointed, "Well fuck off, then."

[Continued]

"Salaam." You wave sarcastically, and for a moment you half expect him to bite you.

"Go bugger a thruster vent. If I wasn't busy escapin' I'd fold you into a pretzel, ya little dingo cunt, and then I'd have the cunt's cunt to my own self." He licks his lips.

"That would be very ill advised, the guards could be back at any minute." As you exit the cell, you see the feminine speaker, a woman with short, brown hair combed meticulously almost into an orb. Her features are small, regular, and pretty without being attractive somehow. She looks at you and sighs, "I was hoping you would be more impressive. Oh well, do what you like, I have to borrow a mech and make my way off this historical scrapheap. Ta~!" She waves, and sets off in the opposite direction, leaving you alone.

>[You're free, what's your first priority? You have nothing except your clothes and your PC, and are alone on a hostile UJCIDF vessel. If you take the hallways instead of, say, going through a vent there are maps posted on the walls that could help you find your way around, but unlike Caesar you've never been on a Jovian ship bigger than the Yamato and don't instinctively know your way around]

They let us keep our PC? Are they stupid? Send Roarke a selfie.

TO THE VENTS, COMRADES!

And slug the aussie, the cunt.

Then hope we have a chance to slug the woman

the cunt

The cells block transmissions. It's easier than giving you a paper book to read and they had limited time.

Ask the strange man where he is from. and what a dingo is, it sounds fierce.

Find the map, get the Terran to help us and possibly get him to join the Kestrals. Also, get a message to Pierre that the girl mechanic set us loose and maybe planning further mischief.

Lets see if we cant teach the aussie about stealth ops.

Well, our main goal is to find the mecha bay and escape, though we also have secondary goals. Gather information, data on new weaponry, and checking on personel.

Brownie McBobhead is likely trouble if she planned this, so tailing her might be a good idea. She might know more secrets.

>catching space madness

>planning further mischief.

Moe has literally zero idea who this woman is and has absolutely no reason to suspect her of doing anything other than escaping.

Unless you're trying to be a suckup to the gubment. I don't feel like Moe would suck up to the gubment. He's kind of a singleminded self-centered dick.

i personally want to recruit the Aussi to the black ogres cause.

Tell the Ausie if he wants to fight then he should join the kestrels, challenge him to the classic Australian game if we have to youtube.com/watch?v=mcE0aAhbVFc

Moe has done nothing wrong, and Setsuna is fucking based.

It's pretty obvious that she's freeing other prisoners to increase her own chances of successfully escaping.

Not that that's going to prevent us from trying to make the best of it, of course.

But Moe wouldn't care.

first things first
youtube.com/watch?v=CskRKJhQuDc
secondly, find a map
and third thats Dark Souls, you filthy casual. get it right

He might only care about having her join us because shes a hacker

Moe cares about nothing but his own gainz.

Truly dedicated to fitness.

You decide to follow the blonde man with the strange accent. He seems capable. The first sign of his handiwork is an unconscious guard, then another...and a third...and a fourth. The fifth and sixth are together, the sixth still struggling weakly as he chokes him unconscious with a bootlace. He has the sidearm and stun baton of every last MP shoved haphazardly into his belt, and glares at you like some primeval monster out of legend, "You a masochist or somethin? Ya like gettin' beat, muzzie cunt?"

"If you like fighting, the Iron Kestrels could definitely find a place for you, you know. We have defeated many strong opponents." You manage to say.

He spits, "Nah. Fuck off. Take your cunt Tin Sparrows and shove 'em straight in yer cunt bungole. Betcher cunt Cap'n's a pooftah, cunt. Now piss on out of here before I take the boot ta ya. One more sorry cunt word out of your little cunt mouth and so help me I'll violate you despite me bein' in an awful hurry. I'm Bruce Kelly, cunt!"

>[Push your luck?]
>[Leave? If so, where to? Useful things to have might include a uniform to blend in and a weapon in case you fuck up. The unconscious MPs have uniforms, but they're all taller and broader than you, so wearing one of theirs would reduce your Stealth bonus...for this escapade, Stealth rolls can include blending in and avoiding notice as well as not being seen entirely, the Terran has their weapons and will not share]

>>[Leave? If so, where to? Useful things to have might include a uniform to blend in and a weapon in case you fuck up. The unconscious MPs have uniforms, but they're all taller and broader than you, so wearing one of theirs would reduce your Stealth bonus...for this escapade, Stealth rolls can include blending in and avoiding notice as well as not being seen entirely, the Terran has their weapons and will not share]
Crew quarters to take an outfit or two might be good. At the very least something that doesn't stand out. No reason to be violated.

Sneak attack?

Just punch him in the asshole, that'll teach him.

Okay we're definitely gonna need Roarke to use part Aussie heritage to counter this man.

Fucking Reccoa

How about no? Thats a dumb idea which could draw attention, get us killed/captured AGAIN, or a combination of the three.

I second this

>[Push your luck?]
>I don't know my captain is probably one of the best fighters out there he's killed 11 harpies at once with just his hands
>I bet you he could whoop your ass all across this ship and back

Crew quarters might have a lot of crew in it though.
Yes punch the man who choked out six men with a bootlace and now has all their guns, what could possibly go wrong?

>Betcha my captain could kick your dipstick ass. ya muggy cunt.

>what could possibly go wrong?

You want me to list all the options, most, or was that rhetorical?

We got time to kill, go for it

>or was that rhetorical?
Hazard a guess.

Thats why we use stealth and vents. They are likely combing the entire place so we just need to find one room. And if it's occupied, it's easier to knock out one prepared crew man than a group,

Jesus, the shitposter is back.

> sounds like you've got tall poppy syndrome cunt.

Is the consensus pushing your luck?

Mohammed's high Empathy (which I'm not used to a protagonist character having) tells you that he is deadly serious about making you a seventh victim if you annoy him.

Death, dismemberment, brain damage, disfigurement, paralysis both partial and total, hurt feelings, disease, infection, being restrained, capture, summary execution, stubbing a toe, various minor physical trauma, and a date with the Colonel.

That's a partial list.

I say go for it but play against him and make him want to fight Roarke so that Roarke can kick his ass then get him to join his crew

The consensus is NOT pushing our luck. Please do not push our luck that is a bad idea.

Don't forget getting violated, that's important.

W-what? Who would do such a thing to Moe!?

No Thunderbird. Seriously, this is a bad idea. We are in no shape to go against him if he's serious and all it does is make OUR plans more difficult. There is a time and place for this sort of thing and THIS is not the time.

I'm pretty sure this guy has like, at least 8 in all forms of combat.

Straya, cunt.

No sir.

Ned Kelly.
the Colonel.
half the ship

You want to shittalk back, but...you are not yet the Black Ogre. So you leave while he's tying the MPs to each other. You find a map, and begin making your way towards the crew section of the ship. There should be a laundry there. You have to take it slow, and be extremely careful...you don't have your Admiral's sheer ability to beat people down with just your fists, and you're unarmed.

Thankfully, with the full systems check going on, most of the crew is engaged elsewhere. Double thankfully, the ship's turbolifts display whether they're in motion or not from the outside, so you can get an empty one.

>[Make a Stealth check, 1d10+12, you may expend Luck if you like.]

I refuse to believe you. Moe is not for lewds.

Right?

Dammit, Oda. DAMMIT KAREN!

Rolled 8 + 12 (1d10 + 12)

None needed

Rolled 1 + 12 (1d10 + 12)

Snake is go

Well goddammit

Rolled 7 + 12 (1d10 + 12)

Snake? SNAAAAAAKE!!

Rolled 6 + 10 (1d10 + 10)

Rolled 2 + 12 (1d10 + 12)

begin Halal mission