An entry with a Bang! - A BT roundrobin II

[Duna Typon]

Originally Posted by Barricade

Only works if you keep their core temperature of their bodies just above freezing, and good luck with that unless you plan on completely draining out their blood and putting in a plasma equivalent of anti-freeze (and that's non-toxic either). It does work though as from studies shown from victims that nearly drowned/froze in freezing temperature water, that their cells simply went into a massive hiberation. To the point its something like 1:100 compared to us - breathing, cell decay (aging), nourishment requirements, etc, etc - all were nearly 100x slower/less needed then a 'warm' human body.

And there's also additional proof of this in any group of people that live in ultra-high altitudes (Andes, Himalayas, etc) or in very cold conditions, and have acclimatized to them over generations. They need to eat less, need less air, they age slower (iirc Inuit lifespans add on average a full decade to the standard lifespan if they stay health), and so on. So its obvious we can survive in much colder conditions if we keep things stable. Just have to find a way to lower the temperature down to around 1/2 a degree above freezing and keep it that way. Won't be the sci-fi idea of suspended animation, but it'll be close enough to it.

they have suspended animation in BT

[EdBecerra]

Originally Posted by Barricade

Umm Ed, you -are- being a bit more...inhuman... lately then at virtually any other time you've been on the board. Really, we don't need some of the nastier ideas.

Sorry. The recent reminder of Hess, Koch and the others has me in a vile mood. Maybe I should take a vacation from the forum until I'm feeling a little less murderous.

Ed.

[PsyckoSama]

Alright, bitches. Daddy's back.

Originally Posted by Barricade

So unless the GDI ship gets damn lucky, they might as well nuke it. If we had a a railgun/gauss rifle it -might- work*. But do we have either yet? Even a primitive version?

*growl* YES! YES WE DO!
I stated outright there's a prototype on the USS Kidd.
And on that note, didn't we agree on GDIGIJOE not GDISOCOM? Fix it
Going back on the navy subject, I see most ships in the end being owned by the Member States, not GDI itself. I see this being true on all aspects of GDI. Also the Colony Guard, I see them being mostly limited to colonies not yet large enough to support local militaries or lightly populated outpost systems

[John117xCortana]

The USS Kidd ? Isn't that the destroyer with the railgun from the Transformers 2 movie ?

[PsyckoSama]

Yes.

[Calan]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

Alright, bitches. Daddy's back.

and where the hell have you been?

[PsyckoSama]

http://forums.spacebattles.com/showp...6&postcount=23

Banned for posting that...

And the thing Ed seemingly keeps missing is that Hanse Davion actually believes his own propaganda. Now, while he'd want to gain from his relationship with us he wouldn't start a war unless he felt he had no choice simply because its better for peace loving (snort) free peoples to unite (hopefully under his nominal leadership) and fight back against the forces of oppression and tyrany.

On that note, we should tell him all about the Clans.

[Barricade]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

Alright, bitches. Daddy's back.


*growl* YES! YES WE DO!
I stated outright there's a prototype on the USS Kidd.
And on that note, didn't we agree on GDIGIJOE not GDISOCOM? Fix it
Going back on the navy subject, I see most ships in the end being owned by the Member States, not GDI itself. I see this being true on all aspects of GDI. Also the Colony Guard, I see them being mostly limited to colonies not yet large enough to support local militaries or lightly populated outpost systems

Point me to the poll or the posts in question, I'll change it. Although considering no one's complained, I don't see a problem with the naming.

[Chaos Blade]

Seconded, besides gijoe, man, sounds way lame, psycko.

regarding Ed, I wouldn't call his suggestions inhuman, they are, sadly, very very human, monstrous, but human.
But then again we are a species that has turn self denial into an art.

[Jimmy C]

And also not productive, it might keep them docile, it won't encourage them to cooperate with you beyond what is neccessary to stay alive. If you ask them questions, they may give you the answers you want, but no more. They won't tell you, "and you need to know about this as well..."
Such techniques would be extremely counterproductive when you're dealing with technical experts. Unless GDI sent a team of interrogators and psych warfare experts in anticipation of capturing the Explorer's crew, they're going to be more trouble than they're worth to keep aboard.

[PsyckoSama]

Barricade, that was like a WEEK ago. You seriously expect me to dig through the better part of 200 pages of posts?

It was agreed upon, I remember you even tweaking the backronym... I believe its "General Integrated Joint Operations Element"

[antagonist]

...

So what does it matter? It's just a little detail anyways?

And I'm under the impression it was an honest oversight...

[PsyckoSama]

Its funny that's why. I wasn't getting on his case about it, I just asked him to fix it. He's the one who decided to be a dick and demand that I hunt through 200 pages of rot to find a handful of posts.

[WBH21C]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

http://forums.spacebattles.com/showp...6&postcount=23

Banned for posting that...

It's good that you got that out of your system now, in time I'd bet that saying anything remotely bad would be a hanging offense.

[Chaos Blade]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

Barricade, that was like a WEEK ago. You seriously expect me to dig through the better part of 200 pages of posts?

It was agreed upon, I remember you even tweaking the backronym... I believe its "General Integrated Joint Operations Element"

same way we agreed on the first raid getting out more or less in one piece?

Man, don't be more of an ass, kay? its written and you seem the only one who really cares about that.
Not that I find that surprising....

[Chaos Blade]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

Its funny that's why. I wasn't getting on his case about it, I just asked him to fix it. He's the one who decided to be a dick and demand that I hunt through 200 pages of rot to find a handful of posts.

Actually its lame, but hey, you want to kill suspension of disbelief even more, go ahead. you been bitching pretty much about everything else, so, why not?

[Posbi]

The Periphery, Planet Antallos
Port Krin
July 16, 3021

Gusts of wind from the nearby watefront blew swaths of dust across the ferro-concrete landing pad of Port Krin's space port facility while a group of men descended from the ramp of a recently landed DropShip. They wore rag-tag paramilitary clothes in half a dozen different sets of camouflage and wide-cut robes custom made for the desert climate of Antallos, and each of them carried a large backpack and two worn suitcases. To the experienced eyes of the older men that had found their employ at what was supposed to be the city state's custom agency but in fact only served as an easy means to collect bribes the newcomers looked like men who knew how to use a gun or a knife. Mercenaries, most likely, the customs agent thought, guns for hire. Nothing out of the ordinary for Port Krin. Their leader payed the 'fees', and two minutes later the man at the space port's counter had already forgotten the newcomers even existed.

"Burn me sideways! Finally, we're there!" Sergeant Percival 'Perci' Braiden exclaimed with a sigh of relief. It felt good to have solid ground under one's feet again and smell real air, not the canned oxygen they breathed in space.

"Allright, everybody, check your gear and keep your wallets close and your guns closer," Captain James McCann, formerly of Her Majesty's Special Air Service, ordered the group of ten. "You all read the briefings and saw the footage. That's a dangerous place, and the last thing I want is to blow our cover by getting into some unnecessary fight," he emphasized the last bit to his bystanders. The special forces vanguard the GDI had sent ahead stood closely around the mission's commanding officer, making it impossible for any other passers-by to listen in - if there had been any. "Sergeant, get us a ground car."

Sergeant Yoram Wolf, ex-Mossad, nodded briefly and trodded off to the parking lot.
Another gust of wind cleared some of the sand that kept being blown into the air from their view and someone whistled through his teeths at the scene that came into view.

Morgenstern shook his head.
"Damn, it really does look like-."

McCann cut him off.
"Will you just stop with that, Sam? You've been bringing that up ever since you saw the first photos. It's getting old by now!" he sounded more annoyed than angry at Lieutenant Samuel Morgenstern.

"Come on, the resemblence is so strong it pokes you in the eye!" the sinewy Israeli protested to no avail while carefully hauling his two suitcases from one place to another. Half of them were full of either delicate or outright dangerous equipment that they would all have need of during the coming days.

"I don't care as long as he doesn't try and Obiwan Kenobi antics on the locals," Titus 'Titan' O'Reilly muttered. The soft spoken black man with the build of a seven foot tall professional wrestler was one of the team's two computer specialists and had a vital role to play in the Antallos operation.

"Allright, spit it out so we can get over it already and do what we've come here for," McCann snapped.

Morgenstern stopped with a wide grin, took a deep breath and strechted his arms out as if the encompass the whole city.
"Welcome, my friends, to Mos Eisley."

The reception among the other team members was... muted.

"It only works together with the 'wretched hive of scum and villainy' part, Sam," McCann responded dryly while a largish groundcar fleckered with rust slowly rolled towards them, following a stoic Sergeant Wolf.

"Doesn't look that much like Star Wars to me anyway," Lt. Aaron David shrugged, then added something in Hebrew only the other Mossad member understood before moving further down the road with his luggage, eradicating the smile from Morgenstern's face.

"What did he say, Sam?" Braiden casually asked with a frown.

"That it looked less like Mos Eisley and more like Gaza," the lieutenant and former member of Israel's Mossad replied quietly.

"Well, there is at least one thing that they have in common: you'll hardly find greater hives of scum and villainy in the known galaxy," the Yorkshire native added sourly when Morgenstern had moved on.

xxxxx

When Wolf and McCann re-entered the waiting ground car again after half an hour - the driver had grumpily settled into his fate, especially when two of the men had tacitly unveiled their sidearms - they smelled of alcohol.

"If you had told us there was a party we would have come with you, helping you carry your burden, you know," Kiyoshi Youta remarked dryly. The inconspicuous Japanese national was the team's sniper, one of the five best marksmen of the JSDF.

"The bank's chairman personally wanted to express his gratitude about our generous deposit so Wolf and me got a dose of his personal brandy," McCann explained matter-of-factly. "Not quite like a good scottish single malt, but passable," the team leader shrugged innocently.

"And refusing the invitation would have been impolite," Wolf added evenly.

Sergeant Braiden leaned over to Youta, whisphering.
"I'm just happy we're off the damn DropShip and have some ground under our feet. I swear, one more day together with those guys ending each lame joke with 'Jeeeews, in spaaaace!' and I'd have strangled them all by myself."

Their ride dropped them off at a street corner less than fivehundred yards away from Vorax's palace and the garrison's barracks. The piece of real estate had been the closest they could find in the short time they had had to set up their operation.

To any ordinary passer-by in the narrow streets of Port Krin the group of gossiping men would have looked completely insuspicious. Farm hands come to the city the spend their month's wage in the whore houses or gambling dens, or small time offworld traders trying to make a fortune here, or maybe some low-level criminals trying to find a way into the good-will of one of the mob families that actually ran the city. Port Krin had a tendency to attract those kinds of people, chew them up and leave them to rot in the backstreets. The Mob didn't like newcomers. Newcomers were a danger to stability, to tacitly agreed zones of influence and to shared fields of business. The Mob liked stability. All of that went through the heads of some of those who did not outright ignore the obvious newcomers.

What nobody realized was that beneath the banter and jests those men's eyes very closely watched their surroundings, and at least one of their hands never swayed too far from where more experienced onlookers would have expected to find sidearms under robes and coats.


The Periphery, Planet Antallos
Port Krin
July 17, 3021

Integral part of 'Operation Vanguard' was actually getting to know the city in and out. Given the severly restricted timeframe they were working in, 'knowing' the city meant mapping it thoroughly, digitalizing said map and sending it to inbound GDI force the moment it left hyperspace. To that end the small house the special operations' team had bought from the gold it had deposited had been changed into a high-tech operations' centre and shielded against too curious ears with enough white noise to shut down a commercial radio station if the need ever arose.

Three teams were out in the city, using hand-held laser rangefinders and positioning systems to map roads and important buildings onto a preprogrammed grid. The devices they used hardly looked different from handheld computers and commcerial video cameras, but the men still tried to use them as inconspicuously as possible, not truly knowing if similar-looking devices existed in the Inner Sphere. The actual map would then be built from the positions they localized and transmitted wirelessly to their hide-out.

Yoram Wolf and Aaron David were one such team, the two sephardic Jews hardly optically sticking out between the locals but for their height. The air in the narrow streets away from the slave markets and major gambling dens was sticky and sour, filled with smoke from hundreds of chimneys, sweat and the smell of garbage and faeces here. It stank, but it was easier to stand than what they had seen at the slave markets. Humans herded like cattle, sold like priced sows - it was the face of barbarism, of every sort of moral decay. Compared to that, the backalleys were almost normal. In fact, it reminded both men of the times they had 'worked' in Gaza, which was just as much, if not even more crowded than Port Krin's less well-off districts were.

Turning around a corner into the next street of Port Krin's maze of backalleys the found themselves facing a seven foot tall giant of a man and a band of rabble-rousers right behind him. It was obvious it was one of the city's countless street gangs, and the leader, while tall as a mountain, was hardly twentyfive years old.

"Oi, fellas, nice gear ya got'ere! What'cha think? Ya hand it over and what money ya got and me and me buddies 'ere will let ya pass and keep ya protected." He slapped a large club into the palm of his left hand to emphasize his point.

Instead of answering, David just sighed. In a motion lmost too fast for the eye to follow his hand shot forward, formed a fist and slammed into the ganger's solar plexus, instantly driving all breath from the man's lungs. Before he could even react the Israeli had landed three more strikes on neuralgic points, sending the man unconsciously to the ground. Wolf casually rested his hand on the butt of his .45 cal HK USP for the others to see, but those street gangers actually were intelligent enough to know when to fight and when not. Pulling their no longer so imposing boss by the legs, they left the spot and let the two commandos continue.

xxxxx

The man going by the name of Aren Questos watched it all from behind his shop's window in the relaxing coolness of an air conditioned room. The fight had been most telling. Who ever those two had been, they were no ordinary mercenaries. 'Elite jump infantry, maybe,' he mused. 'Or some other elite military - or ex-military,' that thought was a lot more uncomfortable, 'unit in action.' Strangers mapping the city. Oh, Questos had no idea of the equipment they had used for it seemed awefully small for such a task, but his keen eyes had seen what they were doing. How they were doing it was, at least for now, secondary. He had to report his superiors that someone was apparently planning to take over Port Krin, and who ever did that knew what their trade. Who would have thought he could actually report something helpful back to LOKI for a change?! Still, he sighed. Soon, the quiet and peaceful times of his cover as a baker would be over. Which, coming to think of it, was a damn shame: He was a very good baker...


The Periphery, Planet Antallos
The Proctor Dominions, Proctor
July 20, 3021

"Vorax' position is starting to become untenable after that 'Motherload' ruse he staged," Nika Hernandez stated, her right index finger tapping nervously on the edge of the large map placed on the table in front of her. "People feel betrayed, and unsafe, with all those mercenaries and militiamen gone. No doubt also thanks to our common efforts," she added more consciously for the other three persons in the room. Well, there were more people in the conference room than the four of them, but the personal bodyguards and servants that carried food and refreshments in and out did not really count.

"I've spent considerable monetary means to get under his skin," Walter Kapadopolous muttered sourly. The patriarch of the family that ruled the mostly desert city state of Proctor was a man past fifty and easily weighed threehundred pounds, most of it fat. But he was a shrewd tactician. Heading Proctor uncontested for now one and a half decades was proof enough of that. "For your sake I hope the scheme of your's works out."

"Threats, and that so early in the day?" Nika asked lightly with a superficial smile. "Why, I feel honoured, Walter." Hernandez was his polar opposite, barely six foot four tall and with features that made her seem almost wrought-iron. That the right side of her head had been shaved clean and now featured a tattoo just added to her sinewy, dangerous appearance.

"Don't flatter yourself," the overweight ruler stopped her with a wave of his hand. "As you said yourself, so far it has worked."

"What we are concerned with is: how long will it work?" Tall, gaunt and clad in a custom-made suit, Pietro Shemer represented Resortland, close to the temperate northern polar regions. "It's not like we don't see the merit in the approach you proposed and we agreed on, but so far all we get is rumours on the street, and as far as I know of, none of the militia commanders has yet reacted to our offered bribes."

"Point is," Matthias Gemini of the mining enclave of Kronkite chimed in, "that we are running the risk of missing the point where we should make our move. Deploying troops for that alone demands time and coordination, and for obvious reasons we cannot keep our own troops away from our cities too long."

"Well, I am certainly not the one stalling here," Hernandez huffed. "I just don't see any reason to run into this head over heels if there is a chance to get it all on a silver platter without the need of any of us having to get their hands dirty," she explained. "That, and any rash action leaves us open to attacks from other... industrious statesmen."
'Not that I'd shed a single tear if any of you lost a lance worth of battlemechs or two,' she added in her thoughts. For her this whole endeavour was as much a way to diminish her immediate neighbours' strengths as it was a way to get her hands on the planet's honey-pot that Port Krin constituted. Hermantown was the southernmost state of their secret, impromptu coalition, and its own southern flank was damnably vulnerable. No doubt Malice Fist, Digger's Stop and Port James were all looking for an opportunity to capitalize on the situation - either the one concerning Port Krin, or the one concerning Hermantown's arable southernmost steppe.

"Industrious statesmen," Kapadopolous guffawed, his considerable body mass shaking like one large jelly, "I like that, I really do." He pulled a handkerchief from one of his silk robe's many pockets and swiped the sweat off his forehead before calming down again. "I'm not saying we should rush into action either," he held one hand up to stave off any protest, "but for the sake of cooperation, let's put Vorax' and our forces on the table," he proposed.
There were signs of agreement from the gathered representatives, and Nika Hernandez also nodded and presented her best fake smile. Sometimes she hated working in what basically was a pit full of lying snakes, but deep down she knew she was no better. They all would backstab each other on the first possible occasion. The trick was being the one who stood last in line, with the back against the wall.

"According to my sources Vorax has a company of 'mechs in his employ, and the militia has another mechanized company and up to a single regiment of infantry. Probably even an aerofighter lance, but I'm not too certain on that," Gemini shrugged, rattling down the numbers with the cool voice of an accountant.

"He has been busy frantically trying to hire more mercenaries lately," Shemer added. "Do your 'sources' have anything on those?"

Matthias Gemini shook his head. The Resortland emissary looked as if an angry retort was just waiting to break out of his mouth, but he kept his lips tightly shut. It was obvious he hated comitting his city's forces to a fight were the enemy's strength were more of a guesstimate than anything else, and Hernandez could not even fault him for that.

"Well, how do our own forces shape up?" the ruler of Proctor drew the focus back to himself, then adressed Hernandez. "Given that it was you who brought our little alliance into existance it's nothing but prudent for you to start here, Generalissima Hernandez."

The rulers of Hermantown had held that title for generations, with the correct gender inflection, of course, but out of Walter Kapadopolous' mouth it sounded like a joke. 'I ought to be angry,' she thought, but what good would that do her? Proctor had twice the population of Hermantown, and throwing a hissy fit here would get her nowhere. So she put up a brave front and smiled politely.
"Thank you, Archon Kapadopolous. Hermantown will contribute a reinforced 'mech lance to the Port Krin operation, as well as an infantry batallion." And if any of you deceiving sons of bitches tries to backstab me, a lance of heavy 'mechs and an anti-mech militia infantry regiment will fuck your plans to kingdom come! Hermantown had not survived on its own for this long by being idle; her home was ready to defend itself. The others took notes on all she said, the irony almost making her genuinely smile. It was obvious none of them would be honest here and now, but that had to be expected.

Kapadopolous motioned Gemini that the representative of Konkrite was the next to speak.

"A batallions of tanks, an understrength infantry batallion and one artillery lance is all we have and can add to the fight," was all he said. The lie here was so blatant that everybody just ignored it outright. Konkrite was mining iron and zinc and was earning one hell of a buck with that. But pointing that out would only have served to create tensions around the table, and that would have been contra-productive.

"Three lances of aerospace fighters and a flight of VTOL transports carrying infantry is all I can pledge," Pietro Shemer stated reluctantly.

"Now that is a rather... meek contribution," Hernandez said despite herself, but a look into the other two men's eyes showed her that they shared the sentiment.

"Resortland is twice as far away from Port Krin as any of your cities are," Shemer tried to justify himself, "and we don't have the means to send larger contingents of troops that far away. Now if you could lease us that DropShip of yours...?" he focussed on the archon of Proctor whose head turned red almost faster than Hernandez could notice.

"God damn it, Pietro, we've been over this fuck knows how many times?!" he yelled, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth. "For the last fuckin' time: no. DropShip. for. you. Do you get that?!"

'So Proctor and Resortland had already been in negotiations earlier? Interesting,' Nika Hernandez listened very thoroughly.

"Hey, hey, no need to be rude here," Shemer shrugged the tirade off. "After all, asking can't hurt, eh?"

"Getting on the bad side of my temper can," the obese ruler of Proctor countered with a guttural growl. "And as I see it, it's again going to be me who'll pay the bill for this operation because you wimps don't have the firepower to pull it off," he huffed. "Allright, this is what Proctor pledges to the Port Krin operation: one reinforced 'mech company, one mechanized comnpany and a full regiment of infantry!"

That was quite an impressive contribution, Nika had to admit. Now all that was left to hammer out was the date of their attack to change the political map of Antallos forever...


The Periphery, Planet Antallos
Port Krin
July 29, 3021

Sergeant Percival 'Perci' Braiden carefully squeezed the mass of composite explosives into the crack in Port Krin's city walls and stuck the miniscule radio detonator onto it, hidden from plain sight. A native of Edinbourgh, the thirty-eight year old former S.A.S. member had never thought he'd visit a place which actually still used city walls, though in all honesty, Port Krin reminded him less of his home town than of what he had read about 19th century Sudan. The similarities were akward. Though he certainly was no General Kitchener, one could with some degree of truth say that they were here to civilize the savages, abolish slavery and all that. The comparison brought a wry smile to the red-headed man's face as he finished his work on this part of the wall.

They had received word from the lead JumpShip the day before. By now it was only a matter of a day or two until the invasion force would make landfall and all hell would break loose. A much needed cleansing thunderstorm, that was. Operation Vanguard's task, besides providing intel on the city itself, thus had changed to their secondary objectives - sabotage.

Unlike the comparison to medieval Edinbourgh, where guilds and streets of the same professions had been tasked with maintaining and manning portions of the city walls, Port Krin had no such pre-industrial agreement going for it. The massive plates of ferro-concrete were weathered, most of them far older than the reign of the recent urban despot, with cracks and splinters all across them. Locating spots to place moldable explosives into had been easy, actually placing them there had not been much harder so far. Street lighting in Port Krin was a pin-point affair restricted to those quarters of the city that could pay the lavish extra fees into Vorax' pockets, and most backalleys lay empty during the middle of the night, deserted of life except for the usual pockets of shady dealings.

Remaining unseen had been easy under these circumstances. They had planted explosives at select positions along the city walls, on radio towers, near militia barracks. Now all that remained to do was to wait for the signal.

[Mosati]

Originally Posted by Barricade

Only works if you keep their core temperature of their bodies just above freezing, and good luck with that unless you plan on completely draining out their blood and putting in a plasma equivalent of anti-freeze (and that's non-toxic either). It does work though as from studies shown from victims that nearly drowned/froze in freezing temperature water, that their cells simply went into a massive hiberation. To the point its something like 1:100 compared to us - breathing, cell decay (aging), nourishment requirements, etc, etc - all were nearly 100x slower/less needed then a 'warm' human body.

And there's also additional proof of this in any group of people that live in ultra-high altitudes (Andes, Himalayas, etc) or in very cold conditions, and have acclimatized to them over generations. They need to eat less, need less air, they age slower (iirc Inuit lifespans add on average a full decade to the standard lifespan if they stay health), and so on. So its obvious we can survive in much colder conditions if we keep things stable. Just have to find a way to lower the temperature down to around 1/2 a degree above freezing and keep it that way. Won't be the sci-fi idea of suspended animation, but it'll be close enough to it.

I pulled the relevant section from the Handbook of Major Periphery States, P.185-186. If we ever get our hands on this stuff from a Data Core I expect our Colonization efforts will become much simpler if we figure out how to mass produce the things.

STASIS TUBE

These items are a holdover from the Magistracy of Canopus’ longago days as a Star League Territorial State. With advanced technologies dating from the mid-27th century, stasis tubes permit cryogenic preservation of human beings—most often terminal patients, whose lives can be prolonged until a cure for their condition exists. Even in the first Star League’s heyday, stasis tubes tended to be an option for the rich, including some of the Magistracy’s wealthiest noble families. Post-Amaris Civil War, several noble scions donated their tubes to major hospitals on Canopus IV and Luxen, where they remain to this day. (The Clans have likewise retained this technology, but use it only sparingly.)

Precision Instruments of Luxen still manufactures replacement electronics for these valuable artifacts as needed, but the First Succession War cost humanity the technical knowledge of how to make many of the key systems that flash-freeze and thaw the patient without causing devastating cell-crystallization damage in the process. Without it, new tubes cannot be made, and so the stasis tube remains a rare and expensive item.


Game Rules: Stasis tubes are a miraculous technology, but can be extremely dangerous to their subjects, particularly during the freezing
process, over extended periods of use, or when suff ering from power loss. Functional stasis tubes can successfully freeze or thaw a single subject over a period of 24 hours, and maintain a subject in a state of suspended animation in which each year spent in stasis equates to a day’s worth of normal aging.

In gameplay, the subject being placed in a stasis tube must make special BOD Attribute Checks at the end of the freezing process, at the end of each full year spent in stasis, and in the event of a power failure. No check is required during the thawing process. Success in all of these checks means the subject suffers no ill effects from the stasis process, while failure can have grave consequences.

The Freezing Process: At the end of this freezing process, the subject in a stasis tube must make two successful BOD Attribute Checks to determine whether or not the brain and the body survived the freezing process. A –2 roll modifier applies to both Checks. The first check is for the subject’s brain, while the second is for the subject’s body. If either check fails, the corresponding Attribute (INT for brain, BOD for body) is reduced to 0 (and the subject is considered dead, either due to brain death—if INT is reduced to 0—or organ failure—BOD reduced to 0). If neither Check fails, the subject survives the freezing process without harm.

While in Stasis: While frozen (and as long as the stasis tube receives constant power), the subject continues to age, but at an incredibly reduced rate—roughly equating to 1 day’s worth of aging for every year spent in stasis. However, at the end of each year in stasis, the subject must make a single BOD Attribute Check, with a –1 roll modifier applied. If this roll fails, the subject’s body suff ers a 1-point Attribute loss in both BOD and INT, reflecting damage to the subject’s body and brain. If, through this reduction, either the subject’s INT or BOD is reduced to 0, the subject dies as described above. A body or brain reduced to 0 Attribute points will not survive the thaw process—largely due to crystallization in the patient’s cells.

A subject successfully revived from stasis after suff ering point losses in BOD or INT (either during freezing or while in stasis) may also suffer secondary effects such as localized paralysis, sensory damage, compromised immunity, and a variety of unusual ailments. The nature and extent of these effects must be determined by the game master, and can be refl ected by an appropriate negative Trait (such as Compulsion, Glass Jaw, Handicap, Slow Learner, or Thin-Skinned).

Stasis Tube Power Loss: If, at any point, a stasis tube suff ers any power interruptions longer than 1 day (including loss of any back-up power systems; most of the stasis tubes that have survived the Succession Wars have lost their backup power systems and therefore are reliant on local power grids and such), the subject within must make BOD Attribute Checks to avoid damage. A roll modifi er of –3 applies to this roll as the stasis tube automatically attempts an emergency thawing process. Failure of this roll results in the subject’s immediate loss of 1 BOD point and sudden death from “Sudden Stasis Shock” unless an attending operator (a character with a Medtech Skill level of 2 or higher) makes a successful Medtech Skill Action Check with a MoS of 4+. Either way, the stasis process is stopped and the subject must be fully revived before the process can begin again.

Note that most of the stasis tubes to survive the Succession Wars have operated for centuries without spare parts. To refl ect the increased dangers of using these aging tubes, the game master may apply additional roll modifi ers of –1 to –4 for all Attribute and Medtech Checks made by both the subject and any attending medical personnel.

[WBH21C]

Originally Posted by Posbi

Finalized version. All that is missing is the right date... so supply one, please.

Great part! Looks like Krav Maga is a lost art in the IS.

[al103]

Originally Posted by PsyckoSama

Its funny that's why. I wasn't getting on his case about it, I just asked him to fix it. He's the one who decided to be a dick and demand that I hunt through 200 pages of rot to find a handful of posts.

Only... to not find it. As i remember there was discussion, there was no poll about that... or i would voted "HELL NO!" in it. And i don't remember voting so in such poll. Though with 400-pages thread... i easily could miss 2 or 5 of that pages...

[Posbi]

Allright, my piece is finished. Unless there is some serious criticism left, I'll post it in the story thread.

[DarkObelisk]

Originally Posted by Posbi

Allright, my piece is finished. Unless there is some serious criticism left, I'll post it in the story thread.

It's good. It gives a very nice view of what Port Krin is like.

[evilauthor]

Originally Posted by Posbi

[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif][SIZE=2]
"I don't care as long as he doesn't try and Obiwan Kenobi antics on the locals," Titus 'Titan' O'Reilly muttered. The soft spoken black man with the build of a seven foot tall professional wrestler was one of the team's two computer specialists and had a vital role to play in the Antallos operation.

"and" should be "any".

Sergeant Braiden leaned over to Youta, whisphering.

whispering

Their ride dropped them off at a street corner less than fivehundred yards away from Vorax's palace and the garrison's barracks. The piece of real estate had been the closest they could find in the short time they had had to set up their operation.

Space. "five hundred"

To any ordinary passer-by in the narrow streets of Port Krin the group of gossiping men would have looked completely insuspicious.

"inconspicuous" is the word you're looking for.

Integral part of 'Operation Vanguard' was actually getting to know the city in and out. Given the severly restricted timeframe they were working in, 'knowing' the city meant mapping it thoroughly, digitalizing said map

"severely"

"time frame" is two words.

"digitizing"

The devices they used hardly looked different from handheld computers and commcerial video cameras,

"commercial"

the two sephardic Jews

"Sephardic" is a proper name and should be capitalized.

Turning around a corner into the next street of Port Krin's maze of backalleys the found themselves facing a seven foot tall giant of a man and a band of rabble-rousers right behind him. It was obvious it was one of the city's countless street gangs, and the leader, while tall as a mountain, was hardly twentyfive years old.

"back alleys"

"twenty-five" or "twenty five"

In a motion lmost too fast for the eye to follow

"almost"

Who would have thought he could actually report something helpful back to LOKI for a change?!

Given that his station is on the other side of the Inner Sphere from the Lyran Commonwealth, LOKI might not really care... at least until GDI lands.

The Periphery, Planet Antallos
Port Krin
July 29, 3021

This isn't too early for the GDI forces to show up, is it?

The similarities were akward.

"awkward"

The massive plates of ferro-concrete were weathered,

Usually called "ferrocrete" by BT natives, but this guy could be forgiven for using an incorrect or archaic term entirely in his head.

[Posbi]

Thank you very much.

Given that his station is on the other side of the Inner Sphere from the Lyran Commonwealth, LOKI might not really care... at least until GDI lands.

Sure, but Questos does not really know that, and for him it's a straw to grasp to get a chance to get a better job.

This isn't too early for the GDI forces to show up, is it?

In the story thread a massive wave of DropShips enters Antallos' atmosphere on August 1st. IIRC, we agreed that pretty much everybody should arrive almost simultaneously.

[evilauthor]

Originally Posted by Posbi

Thank you very much.

No prob.