When Last We Met…
;;;;; "Already cramped living quarters have been rendered even more claustrophobic. Dozens of two meter tall, purple or gunmetal blue cargo crates have been haphazardly arranged throughout the room, breaking the open spaces into cramped aisles. The serial codes have been scraped off, but occasional vessel stamps are still visible, revealing them to be the property of Imperial freighters. Long, motionless, black tendrils wind across the floor around the crates and sometimes between or beneath the pallets: power cables from some unseen, coughing motor. Overhead wait the unblinking eyes of pict recorders.
;;;;; The air here is rife with the stink of dried sink traps, the heavy reek of distant sewage backups, and the ozone exhalations of poorly maintained electrical equipment. The crates, sometimes stacked to the ceiling, sometimes not, offer plentiful places of concealment, and every blind corner silently promises danger. Shadows dance from as yet unseen lights, but at the moment there is no certainty as to whether these are simply the flickers of open flames or the promise of hostile scum readying to receive unexpected guests.
;;;;; What’s left of the scum once called Prim Venkateswaran awaits you, lounging in an open, half empty crate. His glassy eyes take no particular note of you. Prim has not been dead long, judging by the sounds and stink of gasses still escaping from his corpse. Prim was butchered, his throat opened by several savage cuts. His forehead, nose and the flesh around his eyes are a mess of pustules. Though the cheeks on his face are gaunt, Prim’s belly fairly bulges around his gun belt, swollen like a sausage. An autopistol is holstered at his side, untouched. The blood on the floor is not quite clear and normal, but is flecked with greenish-black globules, like burned spice seeds.
;;;;; Suddenly, Prim’s body seizes, heaving up as though trying to rise to his lifeless feet. The head lolls awkwardly backward, revealing the spine in the corpse’s throat, and waves of decay-stink roll off him, bathing you in unclean vapors. With the tearing of a dozen separate sheets of parchment being simultaneously shredded, his body comes apart. The boils on his face open like flowers and his swollen belly bursts, releasing streams of crawling vermin. Swarming insectile creatures, each as wide as a thumb’s tip, scamper free, dragging ribbons of flesh with them. Their bodies are predominantly green, though speckled with dull red spots. Then, the globules in Prim’s bloody trail reveal hidden legs and scamper to creeping life, as well."
;;;;; The cell was attacked by insects both large and small. No one was surprised, but several members of the cell lost their cool (backing away, running away, fainting dead away, and uncontrollable vomiting). After this unpleasantness, they found that the bugs were very hard to damage.
;;;;; A fight ensued in which most of the party were chewed up pretty badly. The bugs were finally defeated with the return of Lady Rin. That, and Weyland started using explosive slugs in his automatic shotgun.
;;;;; The cell took a moment to catch their breath. Mallean checked over each wounded Acolyte, and found that they were not as badly damaged as was previously thought. (Anyone severely wounded may burn a Fate point to roll for damage that they didn’t take.) Most of the cell’s ammunition was gone, though Blitz still had his incendiary grenades.
;;;;; Searching quickly, they found the stash of Idyll (missing a few kilos from the shipment), and a few keys of Obscura. Beneath Prim’s pillow was a hand-sewn dolly in poor condition: an effigy of a young girl, with large brown eyes and a grime crusted macaroni mouth. The stitchwork was poor, and stuffing bulged through gaping holes along the doll’s throat and sides.
;;;;; A cache in the wall held an attaché case containing 5000 Thrones and a dog-eared sheaf of papers sewn into a crude notebook. Within these pages were a catalog of customers. The last entry in this book was
;;;;; 10 kils Gland, dispatched to K, 1200 Terrac, 5000th.
;;;;; It’s only a matter of time before someone investigates the gunfire — what now?
;;;;; One of you has a pict-recorder, and may take pictures/video of anything you feel is worth recording. Make a note of who has it, and what info you are recording.
;;;;; Some Skills and Talents the party might consider working on include:
;;;;; ;;;;; Awareness
;;;;; ;;;;; Dodge
;;;;; ;;;;; Search
;;;;; ;;;;; Hardy – Always count as Lightly Wounded, healing much faster
;;;;; ;;;;; Rapid Response – test Ag to negate Surprise
;;;;; ;;;;; Sound Constitution – adds one Wound
;;;;; ;;;;; Step Aside – gain one additional Dodge per round
;;;;; ;;;;; Swift Attack – attack twice with a Full Action
;;;;; ;;;;; True Grit – reduce the Critical Damage you take
;;;;; ;;;;; Unshakeable Faith – re-roll failed Fear tests