Location: aboard the USS Daedalus, a Conestoga-class troop transport ship Turn: 1
Each of you slowly wakes from cryosleep, though the grogginess of extended hibernation masks even this basic information from you for some time. As your vision slowly clears, you see that your cryopod has opened, and you detach the restraints which kept you safe and secure during the long journey from Earth. Many of your companions' pods have not, however; in all likelihood the ship's computer has determined that the occupant's vital signs haven't reached the optimal range yet.
On the viewscreen opposite your pods, the stars glitter in endless procession in the endless gulf of space, and the massive bulk of Charon Station dwarfs even the Daedalus. Below, a darkened planetoid hangs like an ornament suspended from the station, its surface dark and foreboding except from the electric glare of established colonies.
As your companions slowly wake and emerge from their own pods and you struggle to regain a modicum of control over your limbs, a voice comes over the loudspeaker, harsh and tinny.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Charon Station. Welcome to LV-426."
Before long, you and several hundred of your closest buddies have assembled in a lecture hall-like briefing room aboard Charon Station, and the Daedalus is undergoing preparations to return to Earth. Around you the seats rise in tiers, and you are still rubbing the accumulated sleep of several years of hypersleep from your eyes when a young officer in muted work uniform walks in. He greets you and welcomes you to the base in a surprisingly friendly manner, but the bulk of the session is taken up with him reading assignments off a tablet.
You find yourself in a much smaller briefing room before long with a dozen or so other soliders, and a short fireplug of a man wearing a sargeant's chevron stomps in to the room via a door near the front. In stark contrast to the officer you met earlier, he seems inexplicably angry.
“Listen up, maggots! This is Charon Station Orbital Operating Base, and it will be your home for the next few weeks until you shuttle down to the surface. I am Sargeant Tyrus, and I'm in charge of you rejects while you're aboard the station. I will be your mommy, and your nurse, and your priest. If you have a problem, you come to me. You want information, you come to me. You wet the bed--and you will regret doing it, believe me--you come to me.
“Now, you might wonder why I’m giving you this helpful information. You might think I’m your friend, or your buddy. I’m not. Truth is I’ve just got a soft spot for fools and broken things, and you maggots are right up there on the list. Colonial Marines needs the best soldiers it can get, and it’s my job to do what little I can with you in what time we have before you go groundside. So listen up!
“You’ll be part of D Company, or Delta. That’s our punishment company—where we stick slackers and malingerers and people who think they’re tougher than they are. Captain Hendrick commands that platoon. Showing up late like this, I think that’s about where you belong. And it’s where you’ll stay, until I’m convinced you belong somewhere else.
“And you want me to decide you belong somewhere else. You understand me?"
You settle in for a fairly standard run-down on the station. It features an Infirmary, Firing Range, Boardroom, Machine Shop, Gym, Command, Warehouse, Barracks, Mess, Water Supply, Orbital Lift, and Cryosleep Chamber--all pretty typical for an orbital station of its size.
"You've received your bunk assignments, so go find them and get yourself settled in. Dismissed!"
You all are now free to explore the station as you like. This chapter is designed to give you all an opportunity to roleplay and acclimatize yourself with the mechanics of the game.
During this chapter you will not record passed or failed checks, nor will Turns pass. You will also not suffer the consequences of failed tests, although I will let you know what they would have been so you all can settle in.
Wexler looks around the room taking everything in, deciding quickly who might be worth talking to and who wouldn't be worth a second thought. He moves around the room eyeing everyone in turn. His stomach growls angrily and he decides to take up his inventory at a later time. To no one in particular he says, “No time like the present to fuel up. No telling when we’ll get another opportunity for a hot meal.” then heads toward the Mess Hall to see if they’re serving anything worth eating. Along the way he’ll take a look at his bunk.
DM - Dragons Belch: A New Beginning (Custom D&D)
DM - Ying Huo Chóng – The Way of Things (Cortex Plus - Firefly)
Delta Company?? thinks Elizabeth, bristling. I am Alpha Company -- I finished top of my class, promoted below the zone! What do they mean Delta Company? She gets tight-lipped, breathing deeply to conceal it. Button it up, Soldier. This is standard hazing... you know this. They need us motivated, and they need someone to push the dross. Fire the iron into steel... that's what you told yourself you'd do. She thinks of her father, screaming and red-faced as he pushes his subordinates... and her mother, and her. I can do better than that. They just have me here to prove I can lead in field command... I just need to show them I can.
Elizabeth approaches the front as the troops all file out, waiting at parade rest, feet shoulder width and hands behind her back. As the Sergeant approaches, she steps to attention. "Sir! Corporal Resen reporting! Pleased to be under your command, Sergeant. I'll do all I can to get these troops ready. What are we working with, sir, and where shall I begin?"
With only a modicum of trouble you find your barracks assignment--each company has a color code, and you follow the blue indicators down a maze of narrow hallways. Your boots combine with the tread of those of the mass of soldiers around you to produce a dull, ringing echo on the steel tread plate of the flooring that quickly causes your head to ache, though the muffled throb of machinery all around you reminds you of home and is oddly comforting.
When you enter the barracks room, you find several enlisted sprawled out on their bunks, watching videos on portable handhelds or playing cards. You find an empty bunk and drop your duffel on it, then head for the chow hall.
It's easier to find than the barracks, despite not being color-coded. A vast, sprawling room with a low ceiling, enlisted men and women with the look of experience seem to stream in in an almost endless flow, and you quickly get in line. The Corps is nothing if not efficient--within minutes you're through the line with a plastic tray containing what must be food (the Corps would never lie to you, would they?) and looking for a place to sit.
One of the soldiers nearby that you recognize from your briefing calls out to you with a smirk. "Hey, Delta, over here." He indicates an empty spot on the bench near himself and a few other soldiers.
Corporal Resen
The stubby sergeant goes red-faced as Corporal Resen addresses him. Although no taller than her, he is easily twice as wide, and there does not seem to be an ounce of softness about him.
"'Sir?!' Don't you call me 'Sir', Corporal, I work for a living! You will address me as Sergeant, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
He takes a step forward, nearly touching noses with Resen as he continues to bark at her.
"What's the matter, Resen? You too good for Delta Company? 'I got good grades; I deserve a cushy little desk job!' Well, that's not how it works in my Corps. Maybe you thought Daddy would set you up in a staff position somewhere. Well, sorry, sweetheart; we need soldiers here. Maybe if you do your job and prove that you're really a Marine you'll get that little paper-pusher position you always dreamed up. But you're going to have to get some dirt under your fingernails first.
"If you really want to start sucking up already, head down to the admin office and get started on the paperwork. You're going to be team leader of your fireteam, because the other soldiers you shipped out with are even more worthless than you are. Just try not to piddle on the carpet in your excitement. Now FALL OUT!"
Elizabeth holds firm, even as spittle hits her face. She starts to answer when he pauses but swallows it as she is cut off. The words cut close... too close. And the comments about her father? Everyone knows. Always. She salutes silently when dismissed and heads out.
She quick-steps down the hallways, following the color codes. She slows as she passes Alpha Company, tears welling up as she passes the door. She quickens her pace again and continues on. She pulls herself together, rounding corners on extra hallways as she takes some time. By the time she reaches the Firing Range she is just mad. Time to pop some rounds.
Throughout the orientation Dale attempted to focus on the Sargent, his head still fuzzy from the cryo-agents. He had always preferred the hair of the dog to coming down off a high. This time will be different though, he kept telling himself that, hoping he would eventually believe it.
As his brothers and sisters of Delta were filing out, he slipped down the corridors towards the bunk room. He stowed his personal effects in his assigned bunk and grabbed a glass of water. I felt good in his dry throat. This time will be different. This time will be different. His hands were shaking again. Screw this.
Dale got up and milled around the room. He knew what to look for. A small group of folks, huddled together. Laughing despite their nervous glances around. He had to find something to take the edge off his "hangover."
The apparent leader of a group of four soldiers, a private with buggy eyes and splotchy skin whose name tape declares his name as Gomez, addresses Dale as he approaches. His friends turn to watch with a variety of smirks.
"What do you want, scrub? I'm sorry, PFC Scrub. Get lost, PFC Scrub. There's nothing here for you."
He turns back to his companions, a comment murmured too low for you to hear eliciting a round of laughter from his friends.
Garrett stands at attention while the Sergeant gave them the usual introduction. Once everyone had been dismissed he took a moment to look around at his fellow D company marines, watching for a moment at the additional talk between Resen and the Sergeant before moving on to his bunk and setting his things down.
He briefly stretched and looked around as the others either got comfortable or left. He then shrugged and walked out, following the signs that lead him to the firing range. He looked around, hoping to see some of the weapons that they would be using and getting some time to blow or shoot something up himself.
Life is a roller coaster, if you don't stop to enjoy it then you may as well not even ride.
Wexler strolls up to the table with the rest of Delta Company. He says "Thanks" a she sits down and begins eating his meal with determination. Not necessarily greedily or messy but with intent and focus. Halfway through he looks up at the other members of Delta Company and says, "Headed to the firing range here shortly, anyone interested in joining me?" He takes a few more bites. "Need to get a feel for the new equipment."
DM - Dragons Belch: A New Beginning (Custom D&D)
DM - Ying Huo Chóng – The Way of Things (Cortex Plus - Firefly)
too bad. I had been hoping to see how a circles test worked. Guess I'm dealing with private Gomez then.
Dale shrugged off Gomez's insolence. He still wanted an 'in' to see what these losers were packing. Hopefully something light - a bit of grass. He would need to find a sore spot.
"Thanks for the warm welcome then, Private. And since you have been so kind, I will direct you to the patch on my shoulder. Medic. I overheard your name coming from the Company Doc. Something about a failed urine test. Again." Dale put on his best smile here. "But I might be able to help you with that. For a price."
If they bit, great. He'd be in. If they didn't, at least the maggot would have one of the crappiest rides of his life. And Dale would still have time for a Tylenol and bourbon.
Don't worry, it will still be a Circles test. I've gone along with the group of soldiers sitting around because it's essentially color and doesn't affect the mechanics at all. We haven't established mechanically if there's someone with drugs, much less that they're willing to sell.
As a PFC you have a starting Circles rating of 2. We'll treat this as Digging for Leads (p. 92 of Torchbearer). However, the sorts of factors important here aren't really covered in that section (which is all about finding information about potential dungeon delves), so we're going to basically handle it like Burning Wheel does here (Torchbearer basically uses a streamlined version of BW Circles). Instead of adding a fixed Ob, however, we're just going to use them as factors. Modifiers that don't add to the Obstacle of a BW Circles test won't count.
Therefore are two factors that reasonably apply: Occupation (uncommon occupation) is a factor (you're looking for someone selling drugs on the side, not typical but not unheard of either). Station doesn't affect it, unless you're specifically looking for someone of the same or similar rank (e.g., you wouldn't buy from an officer who was selling). Likewise, Disposition isn't relevant. Time and Place I'll count as Factor--you're looking for someone on this station, presumably, but I assume they don't have to actually be in this room at this exact moment. Therefore, your Circles test will be Obstacle 2.
Gomez holds up his hands, palm out, in a conciliatory manner. "Whoa, there, doc. Pull up a bunk and let's talk."
As you approach the range, you notice the words WARNING: LIVE FIRING RANGE stenciled above a double-set of steel doors. The doors slide into the walls with a pneumatic hiss as the motions sensors detect you. Inside to the right is a long counter protected by a utilitarian chain-link cage.
The soldier behind the counter addresses you as you come in. "If you're looking to use the range, you need to sign out weaponry and ammo." He thrusts his chin toward a clipboard sitting on the laminate countertop. "If you want to use the simulators you need a full fireteam."
PFC Wexler
The soldier who originally invited you to sit down responds around a mouthful of food. "I'll probably see you down there. I think that spit-shine corporal was headed there, though. Isn't she your fireteam leader? I hear they've got some new sim machines installed. Supposed to be pretty advanced tech."
Garrett eyes Resen as she enters with him at the last second before shrugging and walking over to the counter and clipboard, He gives the soldier a grin, "Only allowed to sign out standard issue rifles? Or can we play with the big toys?"
Life is a roller coaster, if you don't stop to enjoy it then you may as well not even ride.
The unit supply specialist snorts derisively and looks at Garrett with a disbelieving expression. He laughs and shakes his head.
"What, you want to play with anti-tank weapons on board Charon? Those things are meant to blow holes in things, and blowing holes in a station is a one-way trip to the surface that none of us will enjoy. Sorry, buddy. You want to play with the big guns, you can log into a sim or you can wait until you ship groundward. Small arms only. We don't even have anything bigger than a smartgun up here, 'less it's in a crate shipping through. In a sim you can play with whatever you want. Heck, you can drive an APC in one of those if you take a fancy.
"So what's it gonna be? You wanna log something out, or do you want to play with the sim? C'mon, buddy, I have stuff to do."
It's clear he does not, in fact, have anything better to do than to argue with you, but he does turn his attention back to the nudie mag in front of him.
hmm. It seems like Circles is a town-based thing, and now that I think about it, we aren't in town. Still, I am interested to understand it better and to try it out.
Right now you have set this up as Circles 2 vs Ob 2. Can I use a trait (motivated, in this case) to add a die? And my manipulator skill is of no use to in this, correct?
Dale took a seat amongst the likely-stoners. He asked how many urine tests he had already failed and for what. "It is easier to 'correct' a document if I know what I am up against." Throughout the conversation Dale pressed the heel of his hand into his left eyebrow, when the behavior had garnered enough attention he explained about his pounding headache and lamented he had come here with nothing more than over the counter mess to help it. "And those don't come close to touching this pain, y'know? Any of you know where I might score something?"
Enoch wrote:The unit supply specialist snorts derisively and looks at Garrett with a disbelieving expression. He laughs and shakes his head.
"What, you want to play with anti-tank weapons on board Charon? Those things are meant to blow holes in things, and blowing holes in a station is a one-way trip to the surface that none of us will enjoy. Sorry, buddy. You want to play with the big guns, you can log into a sim or you can wait until you ship groundward. Small arms only. We don't even have anything bigger than a smartgun up here, 'less it's in a crate shipping through. In a sim you can play with whatever you want. Heck, you can drive an APC in one of those if you take a fancy.
"So what's it gonna be? You wanna log something out, or do you want to play with the sim? C'mon, buddy, I have stuff to do."
It's clear he does not, in fact, have anything better to do than to argue with you, but he does turn his attention back to the nudie mag in front of him.
Garrett shrugs with a chuckle, "Never hurts to ask right? I'll have to get the rest of the team together to do some sims while on board." he begins signing out a standard issue rifle before returning the clipboard to the soldier, looking over the magazine he says, "Looks like last months issue, page 63 has the best looking girl in there." he gives the soldier a friendly wink and a laugh as he waits for the rifle to be brought to him.
Life is a roller coaster, if you don't stop to enjoy it then you may as well not even ride.
Wexler nods at the man between bites, "Yep. She's got some kind of wood going on I think. She can lead away for all I care. I'm here to kill some shit." He stuffs the last of his food in his mouth, picks up his tray, and heads out while mumbling, "Mwee foo don ther." then heads to the firing range to see about getting in a fireteam sim exercise.
DM - Dragons Belch: A New Beginning (Custom D&D)
DM - Ying Huo Chóng – The Way of Things (Cortex Plus - Firefly)
Corporal Resen stands behind PRC Vale while he jokes with the supply Private, an open look of disapproval on her face as she watches him read the nudie mag. She takes some apparent satisfaction with interrupting his rapt attention to the naked girls by placing her clipboard on the counter, but her tone is both firm and courteous. "Here's the paperwork, Private. Let me know the last date of calibration on the scope, too? Good to see you're ahead of the maintenance... it is good to know there's no task backlog." She smiles at him briefly, then turns to Vale, reading his nametag. "PFC Vale? Looks like you're on my squad. Corporal Resen. You've got marksman scores and I'm glad to see that... I look forward to shooting with you today." She offers him a genuine smile. "I'll even offer a wager, if you want it. You beat me today, you get the dessert pouch from my MRE on our first patrol."
Garrett gives Resen a lazy salute with a grin as she now introduces herself as the squad leader, He raises an eyebrow a bit at the wager, "Oh? And if you win?"
Life is a roller coaster, if you don't stop to enjoy it then you may as well not even ride.
