Science Fiction Aggressive Business Practices on an Aquatic World.
Hi all,

Have just found this site today and I'm very much enjoying it. This session was an attempt to start a narrative 'in media res' and then piece things together from a cold open, instead of using a generated quest etc. I really enjoyed it.

are we pinned down by enemy fire?

(50/50) No.

does the enemy know we're here?

(50/50) Yes, and...

they're trying to surround us. I have a...

Holographic recording.

that will allow me to

Set snares.

Great! I set off the hologram

(50/50) Yes, and...

it works perfectly. they think we're where we're not.

Negligible: Nick/Scratch/Bruise.

we shoot at them but don't manage to do anything. Do they shoot back?

(50/50) No, and...

they're in total disarray. Can we shoot at them again?

(50/50) No, but...

we move forward and get better positions - +1 modifier from now on. Where are we, by the way?

Demilitarized world.

and who are we fighting?


NPC negative.



they sound like a death-cult who are trying to stir up trouble on a planet with a rich history of sectarian bloodshed. Why specifically are we fighting?

Steal technology from the aquatic ringed planet.

Are we trying to steal the technology?

(50/50) No.

They're trying to steal it. Does the property belong to us?

(50/50) Yes.

Right. and we are...

Humorous Orion gladiator.

OK. So, we've fired at them but done nothing, flanked them. The ball's in their court. Do they advance?

(50/50) Yes.

Do we get a chance to fire at them as they advance?

(50/50) No.

We advance as well. Hand-to-hand combat. Do we win?

(50/50) Yes, and... +Twist: Item / Ends the scene

the last of them run away. On the body of their leader we find...

1 = 1[d3]


Shock gloves.

I take them. +1 mod for hand-to-hand.

Now what happens?



Having driven off the death-cult, we start trading, using our technology. it...

The mundane.



it's mechanical pets, that's what we're selling - trying to bring a bit of levity to the people of the demilitarized aquatic planet. On one of the floating ports in the pleasant waters near the equator we start selling quick-witted cybernetic dolphins and big, silly robo-Orcas. I reckon that death-cult wanted to repurpose them into attackbots and use them to harass the shipping lanes. Is business doing well?

(50/50) Yes, but...

there's a competitor.

Extravagant pilot.



a fancy ex-flyboy who sells handspun facsimile jellyfish and copper terrapins. His goods are shoddy, prone to go haywire in the public bathing bays. People are getting hurt. It'd practically be a public service to put him out of business. Will I get in trouble with the authorities if I go in mob-handed?

(50/50) No.

Good. As well as my own boys, I want to take some mercenaries with me. Can I get in touch with any?

(50/50) Yes, but...

they're very expensive. Can I afford to pay them?

(Likely) Yes, and... +Twist: Emotional event / Changes the goal

They're happy to be hired. Their leader...

Virtuous spy.

tells me that his intel sources say that my business competitor has links to those death-cultists, and has been putting together a big shipment of robots for them.

Any chance that those intel sources would like to help me get rid of him?

(Unlikely) Yes.

will they provide me with some droids?

(Unlikely) Yes, but... +Twist: PC / Alters the location

How many droids?

3 = 3[d3]

WOO-HOO. But, the intel agency says we have to disrupt a meeting between my competitor and those death-cultists. It's happening in...

*I generated a couple of locations but they didn't fit the aquatic theme* It's happening on an abandoned oil-rig a hundred kilometres away from the floating port-city.

recap: Do i have a reasonable team of my own boys?

(50/50) No.

I have a small team of my own boys. Do I have a large team of mercenaries?

(50/50) Yes.

Good. I have 3 droids. Are they heavily armed?

(50/50) Yes.

is there anything else about them I should know?

(50/50) No.

Good. Do my droids give me a +3 modifier?

(50/50) Yes.

do my mercs have any special skills?

(50/50) No, and...

now that they know they're doing work as a proxy for the intel agency, they want more money. Can I afford to pay them more money?

(Somewhat Likely) Yes.

Good. We get in our heli-jets and set off for the oil-rig. Do they spot us as we approach?

(50/50) No, but...

As we hover silently above the rig, our cloaking shields on, we see that there are more members of the death-cult than we'd expected, and they have bots of their own - big ungainly metal crabs with assault rifles and mini-missile launchers welded to their backs. Do these factors give the death-cult and my business competitor a damage mod?

(50/50) No.

Untrained cultists and poorly manufactured warbots should be no match for us. We rappel down in silence. Are we spotted?

(Somewhat Unlikely) No.

We board the rig and take up tactical positions. I give the prearranged signal and we open fire. Do we hit anything?

(Likely) Yes, but...

we don't have as much effect as I'd hoped. my +3 modifier is ignored.

Negligible: Nick/Scratch/Bruise.

we do hardly any damage. Do they fire back?

(Likely) Yes.

do our tactical positions offer us any defensive cover?

(50/50) No, but...

they are taken by surprise; -3 modifier

Negligible: Nick/Scratch/Bruise.

Good. We fire back. Do we hit anything?

(50/50) No, and...

The death-cultists, my business opponent and his boys, and their badly-made warbots begin to move around like they know what they're doing. Do they fire back?

(50/50) Yes.

Do they hit anything?

(50/50) Yes. +Twist: PC / Alters the location

Minor Injury: Largely superficial; painful and distracting, but not life threatening.

A few of my boys take flesh wounds; a merc loses an ear. The incoming fire damages the structure of the rig:

Moderate Damage: Hampers functionality significantly; will require repair/mechanical attention.

it's a good job the rig is already abandoned - chunks are being gouged out of the superstructure. We fire back; do we hit anything?

(50/50) Yes.

Severe Injury: Incapacitating and may become Critical if untreated.

Working together we lay down a devastating blanket of fire that cuts through the cultists and their bot-supplier's henchmen. A few remain alive. The mercenaries bind their wrists with magnetic shackles and hand them over to the intel agency droids, who will take them in for questioning. Is my competitor still alive?

(50/50) Yes.

I approach him. I make a simple proposition: sign over all of his warehouses and factories to me. Does he accept?

(50/50) Yes, but...

he spits in my face.

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