Thursday, September 30, 2010

Tranquility: Captain's Log Late September 2101

Late September 2101

We touched down in the afternoon on Side 6, a colony controlled by the dimunuitive Sons of Thunder. We've come to meet our client at the Slippery Pig, a local tavern. Unfortunately it seems he made some provocative remarks to some mercenaries on shore leave, and they were pleased to introduce his face to the floor. As a business man who prefers to get paid for the cargo that he has transported across space, I invited the mercs, a handful of big, well-armored fellows in urban camo to discuss the situation outside.

The mercs proved to be slow to leave the bar, fortunately for us there was fairly decent cover. Mel, Chloe, and I took up positions behind some crates, preparing for the approaching shootout. I saw the burly mercs run to cover behind one of the local workers' shacks. Considering the distance, I really wished the authorities allowed assault rifles, but on the plus side the mercs are limited to their standard sidearms in this fight. Still, Mel's not a bad shot, and Chloe's shotgun had many notches along its barrel. With the mercs out of sight, Mel and I decided to take up a closer position behind another pre-fab shack, with Chloe covering our butts. Meanwhile Jolee ran behind Tranquility, after all, she's no fighter. I found myself staring at my Bowie. What was it they said about not bringing a knife to a gun fight?

Mel seized the initiative and snuck up behind one of the pipe supports. Apparently one of the mercs didn't do such a good job of hiding, as one shot from Mel's revolver dropped him stone dead. The mercs were apparently hard-asses of some sort and didn't balk at their companion's dirt nap. If anything that just seemed to elicit a series of loud, Gaelic oaths from them. With the Mercs distracted, Chloe and I advanced, hoping to get into kill-range should any of them leave their refuge behind the shack. I saw a couple try to circle round us, but Chloe and Mel were alert and I heard the resounding clink of metal on ceramic composites as two of the armored goons fell on their asses. Their commanding officer managed to make it to cover before we could get a shot at him.

Only one of the prostrate mercs managed to get up, the other looked pretty bad off. Ultimately their NCO must've decided that discretion was the better part of valor, 'cuz the whole lot of 'em headed off in the opposite direction, with the wounded soldier being drug between them. Still they had time to yell back at us, "Yeh'll be hearing from us later, yeh rotten rimmer trash. No one fucks with the Dragoons!"

Having determined that the coast was clear, I searched the remaining corpse for identification and armament. Not only was he carrying a fancy laser pistol (Pretty frickin' sweet) but it seems he was in the employ of a mercenary outfit led by Major Douglas Blackmoore. Guess the tough old bastard survived the war. Needless to say, we haven't made many new friends in this encounter.

Having settled the disagreement as to the disposition of our client, I dragged his sorry carcass over to the local sawbones, a Son by the name of Murphysson. Fortunately the client, Barnabus of Gefilte Shipping, was insured and there was little paperwork to fill out. He was quite grateful for our interference and we got a bonus on our delivery of foodstuffs, netting us a respectable forty creds. The passengers we'd been transporting also paid up for an additional ten creds.

Having stepped out looking for additional work, the local lawmen felt the need to talk to be about the shootout, but I assured them that our participation had only been with the intention of helping out a fellow citizen in trouble. The sergeant mumbled something about cleaning fees and requested that I make my stay a short one. I lucked out and quickly found a Felid by the name of One-Who-Eats-Snakes that was filling an order for illegal erotic for someone on that theocratic aquaculture world, Water. Now I've got seven tons of yellow literature in my hold; fuck, that's a lot of porn. Jolee found us another passenger fare, fortunately he looks to be the normal sort; we shouldn't expect any trouble from him. Barring any difficulties we should make a fair bit of cash on this next run. Here's hoping, anyways.


  1. Very Nice! I know it might be a lot of work, but do you ever list the rolls and questions you ask for Mythic as part of your story?

  2. I sort of did when I was initially recording the moves for the game, but as I was writing the narrative I deleted them. Would it be desirable to have these sort of things as footnotes to the narrative?

  3. I know I would like to see them.