5.7 KiB
| title | created | updated | public | syndicated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 00076 | Sun, 16 Jul 2023 14:49:38 -0600 | Sun, 16 Jul 2023 14:49:38 -0600 | yes | yes |
00076
As the ship grew closer and the derelict became more clear Alex gripped the side of the ship. He could see the woman in the window through his telescope, but wasn't sure what to make of the situation. He assembled the members of the team to the deck to discuss further.
"It's clear that the ship is adrift. We should probably attempt to help." Alex stated matter of factly. "However Marvelo has confided in me his strongest suggestions that we not take the risk. We have a clear goal. And the life of this one woman isn't work much in the scheme of things. The world is at risk." Alex sighs, "He may unfortunately have a point, but I believe we that if we choose to stare into the abyss and make such a choice we become the monsters we struggle against. And we always have a short." Alex's eyes dart to Inky, the seem sad, ashamed. A fleeting statement of understanding is exchanged between the two.
"I say we go, but with caution. If anyone wishes to join me, they may do so. We need someone to remain with the ship to guard it. Marvelo is still not up to excursions, but he's a crack shot with a blaster and has agreed to watch from atop deck. Lee I need you on the deck gun and look out. Should anything come towards us while we explore the derelict, you have explicit permission to send them to hell. Use your judgement."
"I've done some reconnaisance on the ship already, we can at least go in knowing something about what we face. However anyone who comes needs to come armed, with medical assets, and spare oxygen. We need enough equipment to get in, face the unknown, and save this poor woman's life."
(DM: Do I notice anything about the derelict upon inspecting it with a telescope? Signs of attacks? Further what do scans reveal about the derelict and the area around it?)
~
Inky offers the ship's captain a small encouraging smile when he looks over in their direction but otherwise remains silent during the briefing. The unspoken agreement was that no one was going to let their captain go in on his own despite any individual misgivings on the matter, Fair One's chosen or not. The only question is who would accompany him. This presents three problems.
Problem #1: Inky's packs and pod were already prepared before the rumbles overhead about a starsail sighting sounded while they were checking on the salt batteries and compost tea. It would be a pity to not test the equipment before the mission landing. Get more distance out of that deep discount.
Problem #2: his uncle would have Inky's fireball-roasted head on a platter if he found out Inky was enjoying a freshly harvested watercress salad back on the ship while his nephew faced great peril at the hands of an evil old lady.
Problem #3: the sysorcerer is the only obstacle between Inky and four very angry, heavily armed agents. He is trying hard to be a good captain and leader to them, that anyone could see. Better to be a mobile tea lackey than an immovable target practice lackey.
To the sea dragon it is.
You run a quick scan of the derelict starsail.
It looks as though is has been heavily pierced and battered by artillery, boarded and looted, and left to drift. No doubt the work of some enterprising, opportunistic space pirates.
The ship is broadcasting a weak SOS signal running a loop, but you pick up no other energy readings.
There is a single lifeform reading on board. But you know from experience that such readings are notoriously unreliable in deep space where creatures of the vacuum often tread the thin line between life and death.
You launch a jollyboat and cautiously approach the sea dragon. As your small craft enters its atmosphere, a putrid wind blows across you and its rank air fills your nostrils and lungs. The ship has been adrift for quite some time for its air to be this stale. Another short couple of weeks from now its air will become toxic to breathe.
As you dock, the small woman rushes forward to greet you, hands flitting up and down like moths. Thin wisps of white hair peek around the edges of the shawl she has pulled up like a hood and wrapped around her shoulders. Her weathered taut skin gives her a gaunt, almost skeletal appearance. There is a painful looking crack running across her scalp, down her forehead, and over her face, splitting her features into two hemispheres. Her left eye is large and watery, and droops down her cheek like a runny egg yolk.
"Oh thank you, thank you for stopping!" she wheezes in a raspy croak. "We were attacked by reavers and left to drift. We've been out here for weeks, and nobody would stop for us! Oh, we would have surely perished if you hadn't come by!"
"Oh, yes." She notices you looking at her, and briefly attempts to hide her face behind a fluttering hand. "I have the Splitting Sickness, you see. It will be the end of me soon, I'm afraid. Nothing that can be done about it now."
"My granddaughter and I were on our way to Lua," she continues, disappearing into the ship and beckoning you to follow. "Are you going that way by chance? I must deliver my granddaughter there. She is very sick, you see. And I believe the cure is to be found on the red moon."
The bridge is dark, save for the dim red glow of the floor lights and the strobing emergency lights. The old woman stops before a long glass box on a raised platform, inside which lies a young woman, eyes closed and still as death, as though deeply asleep.
The old woman looks up at you, her cursed eye gleaming wetly and unblinking in the low light. "Will you help us?"
WHAT DO YOU DO