Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Five Mission and Aftermath, Marion City Showdown - Five Parsecs from Home

“Where the hell are you Malcolm!?” Dask hissed into his comm as he crept closer to the perimeter of the Follower’s compound while Midori, Whilem, and Shoutheri following close behind.

“Our diversion has drawn too much attention, Estra and I have almost evaded the enforcers,” Malcolm’s voice crackled over the comm.

Dask growled then gestured his team forward.

“Okay, we can’t wait for you. We’ve got the local muscle closing in fast. We have to go loud now. Join us as soon as you can, my scans have detected that they’ve brought a heavy hitter.”

“Okay everyone, move up!” Dask commanded.

Dask and Shoutheri went left while Midori and Whilem smashed the windows of a nearby control shed and mantled into the building.


 

“Shoutheri, go left and get your gun up!” Dask called out.

“Got it!” Shoutheri replied, then dashed across the open ground and threw himself into cover next to a power unit. He propped his laser on the low cover and aimed it at the incoming mob of smugglers. Leading them was a chromed up homunculus with a heavy calibre burst gun at the ready.

“Dask, eyes on the primary tango. He’s coming in fast!” Shouteri bellowed.




Shoutheri aimed at the chromed up merc and blazed away, catching him across the chestplate with a few shots. The merc growled and dashed into cover, while his auto-repair systems kicked into action.

While Shoutheri laid down fire Dask ducked over to a datapad and package sitting by the landed shuttle.

“Paydata!” Dask hissed in delight and scooped up the valuable package.

On the other side of the shuttle, Whilem and Midori burst from the control shed and dove into cover by a grav-truck.

“I’ll get set up here!” Whilem bellowed as he braved his auto-rifle on the truck’s thruster pod and aimed it downrange.

The chromed up merc charged right into view as Whilem ready his weapon.

 

Midori went right and brought her laser up just as Whilem sent a volley of fire at the oncoming merc. While the merc staggered from the incoming fire Midori went right and lined up a single, precise, shot with her laser. The beam clipped the merc square in the head, and he went down in a heap.


On the other side of the shuttle, the smugglers pushed hard on Shoutheri, blazing away with their weapons as they came on. Shoutheri returned fire in panic, but a volley of buckshot slammed into his upper torso. He gurgled as he tried to breath, then went down.
 

The smugglers exalted at this success, then charged forward.


“Dask, this is Malcolm. Estra and I are on site.”


“About time, We’re about to be overrun! Get in the fight!” Dask replied, just as a volley of gunfire smashed into the forklift that he was using for cover, and a few shots hit him. He collapsed mid sentence and fell silent.



Malcolm and Estra dashed forward and took cover by a speeder car as the smugglers advanced forward, right into a crossfire. Whilem swung his auto rifle around and fired at the smugglers. Estra racked her shotgun and fired volley after volley of buckshot into the smugglers while Malcolm strode forward with his gun pod arm raised and spat fire at the mob. A few of them went down immediately under the withering weight of fire.

The sole surviving smuggler of the group broke and fled, all the while Whilem strode forward with his gun arm raised and cut down the fleeing smuggler without remorse.


On the far side of the field the last couple of smugglers advanced on Whilem and Midori.


Midori and Whilem cut them down and pushed forward.

“We’re clear! Dask are you up?” Midori called.

Aftermath

Dask lay in the sickbay, a sheet of mediplas wrapped around his torso which mostly kept his insides on his inside. He rolled his head to the left and gazed at Shoutheri’s body as it lay on the sickbay’s operating table. Shoutheri’s eyes were still open, staring up at nothing. Midori had done an admirable job of cleaning up the worst of the blood, but there was little that could be done to disguise the damage the buckshot had done to his throat.

Post Battle Injuries
Shoutheri - Dead
Dask - Serious Injury - 4 Turns

“Fuck,” Dask cursed at himself, then rolled his head to the other side and stared away, he blinked away a few tears.

First P’Hol, now Shoutheri, not to mention the throbbing pain in his guts where the sickbay’s autodoc had to cut out the bullet fragments and had done a passable job of stitching him back together. They had won, the smugglers were dead or driven off, the pay had come down as promised and the money was good, but it was money drenched in blood, both his and Shoutheri’s.

Midori walked into the medbay with a body bag.

“Hey, Dask. Are you awake?” Midori called out.

“Yeah,” Dask replied.

“Shoutheri has no end-of-life instructions. So I’m going to have him cremated. We’ll scatter his ashes in orbit next time we break atmo. I don’t know if he has any family or friends, I don’t know what to do about his personal effects, or his accounts.”

Dask sighted and stared at the ceiling.

“We’ll take a vote to split it amongst the crew, or figure out something else…” Midori said.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Dask replied again.

“I’d ask how you are feeling, but I was in your position a month ago. So, I think I have a pretty good idea about that already.”

“More pain than I’ve ever felt in my life,” Dask murmured.

“Listen, today wasn’t your fault, we just got unlucky. Malcolm and Estra being delayed and all…” Midori said.

“I know, we had a plan that was as good as it could get. Yet when it happened two of us got delayed and the smugglers had a merc. We weren’t prepared.” Dask interrupted then sighed in frustration.

“If it makes it any better, that datapad you swiped came up good. There was some decent paydata on it. Something that Singh was willing to take off our hands for a decent price. And Whilem managed to find some decent weapons amongst the smugglers' stash.”

Curious Item - Salvage worth 1 credit
Battlefield Finds - Usable Goods - Hand Laser, Infantry Laser

“Listen, have you got a moment?” Dask asked.

“Sure,” Midori said as she walked over to Dask and sat down on the chair by his bead.

“If I buy it, you should become captain, hell. I should turn that role over to you right now.”

Midori blinked with surprise at this.

“I’m serious, Midori. You’re born to this life, you know what you are doing. I’m just a two bit hacker that couldn’t cut it in the core, so now I’m out here on the frontier playing as captain. You are the real deal.” Dask said, then blinked away a couple of tears.

“Dask, I’m flattered but I think that may be the trauma and the drugs talking.

“Maybe, but it’s true and you know it. I’m out here because my father told me… he told me after I caused some bad times with a long standing family ally, that I would spend at least a year out here on my own before I was allowed to set foot on my family’s estate again. After that I am to come crawling back and beg forgiveness for my fuckup… you see Midori, that’s what I am, a fuckup that is good at pretending I’m not.”

Midori reached out and gave Dask’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Whatever else you may be, Dask. I don’t think you’re a fuckup. But I’m just a hayseed frontierswoman, what do I know compared to an uppity Core Worlds magnate, am I right?”

Dask looked Midori in the eye for a moment, unsure of what she meant.

“What I’m trying to say is that when I first met you, I didn’t like you much. You Core Worlders come out here to the frontier and think they know all the answers and talk down to the likes of us who were born to this life. But you proved to me that you were the exception. You’ve kept an open mind, listened to me, and respected me and the crew. Acknowledged that maybe you are the one that has things to learn out here… You started strong and have grown into this life so fast and so quickly. Give yourself some credit, man. You’re doing all right.” Midori said.

Dask considered this for a moment, then sighed and dried his tears.

“Thank you, Midori. I don’t think I’d want to continue this without you. I think this ship and crew would fall apart without you.” Dask said as he gave her hand a slight squeeze.

“It’s a team effort, Dask, and we work well together.” Midori said, then got up.

“I have to make arrangements for Shoutheri, but we’ll talk later, yeah?”

Dask nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Crew Event - Heart to Heart (Dask & Midori)

Later that evening Dask awoke to Midori shaking him awake.

“Huh? What’s up?” Dask murmured as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Don’t worry, space cowboy. We’ve got something planned for this evening and I thought I’d wheel you into the crew lounge so you could join in.

“Oh, sure,” Dask said, then let Midori help him into the ship’s one wheelchair.

As Midori wheeled him into the lounge he spotted Whilem, Malcolm, and Estra lounging on the couch across from the main screen passing a bowl of fried doughballs between each other.

“What’s going on?” Dask asked.

“Movie night, captain. Turns out Malcolm has been using his old converter chrome to store a vast library of classic movies.

Malcolm waved at Dask and indicated to a data port in his neck where he had jacked directly into the lounge’s viewscreen.

“I’m ready to begin,” Malcolm said.

“All right, I like this, what’s on?” Dask asked.

Campaign Event - Watching Movies and Playing Cards

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Four Pre-Mission and Mission, Nephilim Mountains Hike - Five Parsecs from Home

Turn 4 Aftermath

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Midori said as she walked into the medbay.

Dask looked up from his position leaning on the table where P’Hol’s cryo casket lay. The lid was open as a thin wisp of frosty mist rose up from the refrigeration unit.

“I’m finishing up the last of the arrangements for her body. Her end of life instructions were for her, her effects, and whatever pay she had outstanding, was to be sent back to her family. I’ve done everything, all I’m waiting on now is the courier to arrive.” Dask muttered.

He looked up and down P’Hol’s body, she looked serene, almost angelic in the mist of the cryo casket. Her personal possessions were nestled around her feet and legs, all wrapped in a few layers of plastic.

“You’ve never lost someone before?” Midori asked as she walked up to Dask and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“My first time,” Dask replied.

“When I was the XO on my last ship I lost a few in a pirate ambush on Theria. We got hit by snipers as we were offloading our cargo. It was a setup from the start and the captain was winged by a plasma bolt, we ended up having to amputate what was left of his right arm once we dusted off. It was a good crew, but we couldn’t bounce back from that one. We went back to a midworld and took a vote. The captain wanted to sell his share and I didn’t mind, the two other remaining crew members wanted to do likewise. In the end I can see why some crews can’t bounce back from a casualty event like that. So we sold the ship, split the proceeds and amicably parted ways. The two that bought it, we made sure their shares made it back to their next of kin.”

Dask stepped back and lifted up the lid of the casket.

“You’re a good one, Midori. I hope I can live up to that standard.” Dask said.

“You’re doing well so far, where is everyone else?” Midori asked.

“I’ve given them the day off, we haven’t got anyone gunning for us right now so I’m happy to let the crew recuperate from that fight. Just me to keep an eye on the ship while they’re out.” Dask said as he sealed the casket with a snap hiss.

“How about you take some time off as well, I’ll hand P’Hol off to the courier and watch the ship. You look like you can use some time to yourself.” Midori offered.

“Thank you, I’ll take you up on that,” Dask replied.


—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dask found a pub a short walk from the spaceport. It was a MacKeller’s, a chain of mid grade public houses that catered to the working class. Back in the core worlds he’d met a lot of clients discreetly at an anonymous table in the backrooms of a MacKeller’s franchise. Now he found the place strangely comforting and familiar, like all corporate chains, mediocre, but consistent in quality.

Dask sat at the bar with a pint of cheap lager and his data slate in front of him. He occupied himself by casually scanning and probing the electronics of the other patrons of the pub and seeing what casual hacking he could do to amuse himself. It was cheap and low rent data crime,  but he didn’t even take anything. Dask found it amusing to read the kind of stuff that people kept on their personal devices, sometimes there was real paydata, but mostly it was inconsequential secrets.
Dask frowned as a series of data pings of Converter based signal protocols came into range and interfaced with his pad’s wireless. Dask looked up at the door and spotted a Converter drone standing in the doorway, or rather, a former drone. The drone scanned the bar with intelligent eyes that weren’t dulled by the harsh directives of a Converter control chip. Every eye in the pub briefly looked up to him for a moment, as Harlem’s World has had a long history with Converters, but just as quickly the attention was lost as they all came to the same conclusion, that this was a former drone, de-converted.

The drone crossed the floor with heavy footsteps and sat down next to Dask.

“A pint of Everbright Bitters,” the drone said as he addressed the bartender.

“Coming up,” the bartender replied as he went to the taps to fill the order.

Dask studied the drone, only for the drone to swing his head around and look at Dask directly in the eye.

“Can I help you, mate?” the drone asked.

“Nah, just never seen Converter chrome in person before, I meant no disrespect.” Dask said.

“How do you know it is Converter chrome?” the drone retorted.

Dask tapped his pad and lifted it slightly to show the drone the contents of the screen.

My passive datascrapers picked up base level Converter protocols when you walked in the door. I’m sorry about what was done to you, if that means much.” Dask said.

The expression of the drone softened a bit. Then he got his drink and took a swig.

“Yeah, me too. What’s your name, friend?” the drone asked.

“Dask Donovan, captain of the Hand of Fortune and freelance hacker,” Dask said as he offered a hand to the drone.

The drone took it with his left hand, the still human one.

“Malcom Khan, a farmer and pious man of faith in another life. Now a freelance dealer in death, violence, and mayhem,” the drone said.

Dask shook the offered hand.

“How long were you converted?” Dask asked.

“I’m not sure, I was de-converted after a Unity assault on a hidden Converter outpost on Dessany Three, I was one of the units they were able to disable mostly intact. The local Unity military high command was still on the capture and de-convert orders. I guess I was one of the lucky ones. After the techs finished scrubbing and auditing my episodic memory they reckon about six to eight years. I don’t remember much of it, only flashes. The techs mostly took care of that, Mashallah.”

Dask murmured in agreement.

“How did returning to the world go?” Dask asked.

“About as well as could be expected. Once the techs had done their job, Unity gave me an account with fifty cred and the contact details for a post trauma counselling specialist then kicked me out of the recovery ward. Money dried up quickly and I didn’t have enough to make my way back to my people.  So I made a deal with some of the local gangs, I’d work for them as muscle for pay, and they would remilitarise some of my hardpoints. Turns out I was good at it. I ended up getting back in touch with my people, they were supportive and compassionate about what I had become, but being amongst them felt wrong, like I was putting them at risk, so I’m just drifting, I guess.”

“That’s rough, who are your people?” Dask asked.

A minor Islamic sect, you probably haven’t heard of them. The name translates into standard as Pilgrims of Shen. We’re a settler movement with the goal of bringing Allah’s light from the cradle of humanity to the uninhabited worlds of the cosmos, so that all worlds may be walked upon by God’s creations.

“Haven’t heard of it, sorry,” Dask said.

“Understandable, we aren’t well known, even within the Islamic community in the core worlds.” Malcolm replied.

“How about you, Dask. What brings you out to a cheap pub on a workday night?” Malcolm asked.

“I lost one of my crew, she was a good, very professional. I’m working through my feelings about it. It’s a fact of life that in this line of work that people die before their time. Still, I’m feeling guilty about it, I guess.” Dask replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Whatever gods she kept, I hope she is with them.” Malcolm replied.

“I never asked, if she did, she kept it to herself. Say, you said you’re drifting now, what happened?” Dask asked.

“I got tired of dealing violence to people over a kilo of narcotics at a time, I paid my way out of that world, now I do odd jobs for the Pilgrims when they need me. I am thinking about making a run for Hastina. I have family there, but I don’t have the cred to pay for passage.” Malcolm said.

“Hrm, I have something to ask you, Mister Khan?” Dask asked.

“Yeah?” Malcolm replied.

“Wanna job?”

Campaign Event, a chance meeting
De-Converted - Malcolm Khan
Background - Religious Cult
Motivation - Revenge
Class - Ganger

Other Events
Estra lost her shotgun, it will turn up soon.

From Battlefield looting the crew gained a motion tracker.

Turn 5 Pre Mission

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet our new colleague. Mister Malcolm Khan.” Dask said as he gestured at Malcolm.

Malcolm studied each of the crew members in turn.

“Peace be upon you,” Malcolm replied.

Midori stood up, went over, and shook Malcolm’s hand.

“Welcome aboard, Mister Khan. My name is Midori Jones and I’m the XO of the Hand of Fortune. If you need anything or any help getting settled in, let me know.”

Every member of the crew gave their introductions, though most of them seemed a bit put off by the ex-Converter metal standing before them that didn’t immediately want to capture or kill them.

“I appreciate the trust that you have placed in me. However, I regret I have not explained to Mister Donovan the full reason for my presence here in Calhoun City.”

Dask gazed at Malcolm with a slightly annoyed expression.

“Is this something that is going to change the nature of your time with us?” Dask asked.

“Probably not, I am also here to run an errand for my local Pilgrims of Shen chapterhouse. There is a patch of real estate near Marion, that is the main city of the southern hemisphere. My people have been using it for some time as both a retreat, and as a staging ground for long distance missions beyond the limits of explored space. Our colonists use this ground to train in all of the tasks required for building a sustainable colony on a hostile world. Unfortunately our staff on site were driven away from the site at gunpoint by some out-system smugglers. Since the facilities are just as much a shipping waystation as they are a religious grounds they have been using the site to smuggle goods too and from Unity space. We’ve tried to raise this with the local authorities, but we’ve heard that the smugglers are paying them to look the other way. They even threatened to arrest our local members unless they drop their complaints. That is where a team of seemingly unattached outsiders come in.” Malcolm said.

“I see, it looks like god has put us in your way.” Whillem said with some sarcasm.

“Inshallah,” Malcolm replied with a smile, then continued.

“I have been tasked with putting together a crew of operatives for this job, and to participate if necessary. The bad news is that we have a new wave of colonists expected to arrive and begin their training for far-reach colonisation next month. The training grounds need to be clear and repaired before then. So this job has some urgency attached to it.” Malcolm continued.

“It sounds very straightforward, I assume you have a briefing packet prepared?” Shoutheri asked.

Malcolm nodded and flicked a connection over to Shoutheri, who then opened it up on his wristcomp and studied the details.

“They have full plans of the grounds, recon data going back two months… This is well laid out,” Shoutheri said after perusing the packet for a moment.

Dask nodded and turned to the others.

“Thoughts?” Dask asked.

Estra stared at Malcolm with a weird mixture of fascination and fear, but she snapped out of it when Dask addressed her directly.

“Umm, yes, I think so,” Estra stammered.

Whillem, who had been sitting on the couch and soldering a broken control board on the coffee table, looked up and shrugged.

“If it pays, and these religious folk don’t sound like the worst clients we could have.”

Shoutheri nodded and then gave a thumbs up, a human gesture that he had recently learned from Dask and had now been employing it everywhere and with great enthusiasm.

Midori smiled, then turned to Malcolm.

“And I am happy to accept the job. Looks like we are all in agreement,” Midori said.

“Excellent, well I’ll get started with the dockmaster. It’ll be a decent flight to Marion, and we can use the time in transit to plan the op.” Dask said.

Mission: Reclaim the Facility for the Followers of Shen
Danger Pay +3 Cred
Battle Conditions - Delayed
Notable Sights - Curious Item
Objective - Secure

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Four Pre-Mission and Mission, Nephilim Mountains Hike - Five Parsecs from Home

The sun beat down on Dask and his crew as they weaved their way through the dense forests of the slopes of Nephilim Mountains. The ETU job hadn’t been exaggerating when they described the nature of the terrain. It was dense with centuries old forests with an almost tropical climate. The forest floor was choked with highly invasive species of vines and ferns. These plants had been introduced after the last Converter invasion to help cleanse the radiation poisoned atmosphere. The plants were tolerant of radiation and toxins, and were capable of absorbing and neutralising those contaminants. These plants had been extremely successful at their task and now dominated their niche in the current ecosystem. Every now and then, Dask stumbled as he found himself tripping on a loose pile of collapsed building material, now mostly covered by a layer of soil and forest litter. Every now and then they passed some still standing walls; tombstones for the massive sprawls that had once dominated the slopes of the Nephilim Mountains.

The ambush from Dask’s brother had given him and his crew a moment to breathe. They’d taken a couple of days to allow Shoutheri time to fully recover before they committed to their next action, especially since ETU had given them a broad timeline to complete their objective.

Midori and Dask had taken some time to browse the markets of Calhoun City. Dask had managed to offload some old salvage while Midori was offered some old tech which may have been either valuable or worthless, an offer which she declined.

Actions - Midori / Dask - Trading

Whillem and Estra had managed to finally fix the blaster pistol that they had been working on. Whillem now had it strapped to his hip, however he had kept the automatic rifle that he had used during the last encounter. Whilem led their column with his automatic rifle held at the low ready, while Estra brought up the rear with her shotgun.

Actions - Whillem / Estra - Repair

Shoutheri, rather than using the couple of days to recover, instead went off to explore Calhoun City as he usually does. He had made some contacts with a local arms dealer, but given how many spares they had in the shipboard armoury he had decided not to purchase anything.

Action - Shoutheri - Explore / Arms Dealer

They had flown the Hand of Fortune from Calhoun City and set down at a small frontier settlement that was loosely under control of the Harlen’s World planetary government. From the settlement, they had hired a ground car and drove up a narrow gravel track until the track disappeared, and Dask and his crew were faced with vegetation too tightly packed for the car to proceed. From that point they dismounted and proceeded on foot further up the mountain, and and towards the site where ETU had dropped their automated eco-monitoring stations. At this point they had left civilization behind, this land was controlled by outlaws and survivalists. The towns at the foot of the mountains regular faced raids from holdfasts up the mountain; either bandits with outstanding warrants, or survivalists that had fled to the mountains generations ago during the Converter invasion. Both parties had a deep seated hatred for Unity, and were more than willing to rob settlements and kill settlers either for material gain, to extort tribute, or out of simple spite.

“Dask!” Whillem hissed as he dropped to one knee and crouched down behind a fallen log.

The entire column mirrored Whillem’s actions as they lowered themselves to the ground as deep as they could go. Dask crouched down beside Whillem and looked at the Feral.

“Noises up ahead, I think we’ve got trouble.” Whillem murmured.

“Okay, got it,” Dask replied as he keyed his comm to the rest of the team.

“Okay people, possible trouble up ahead. Fan out and keep your heads on a swivel.” Dask said.

New Minis

Before I begin, I have finished up a batch of minis and I’ve got a couple of new ones to replace the current ones I’m using for the following characters.

Dask


Estra


Action

“Move, move, move!” Dask hissed as he gestured his group forward.

Dask could hear the voices now, somewhere up ahead the low murmur of conversation drifted down the valley.

“Sensors were tripped in this sector, could be Unity, guns up.” a distant voiced called out.


“Come on, over here! Get down!” Dask hissed as he gestured towards a low rise in between his party and the loose skirmish line of outlaws that came down the valley with their guns held at the low ready.




Dask keyed the team comm again.

“Okay, stay down and wait for them to get right on top of us. We’ll get the drop on them,” he whispered.

Everyone crouched low and held their weapons ready to go as the crunch of boots on forest floor came closer and closer.

“Movement pings, just over the rise, guns up and flush them out, go!” One of the outlaws called out.

“We’ve been made, go loud!” Dask yelled just as a volley of gunfire slashed overhead, narrowly avoiding Dask’s team.


Dask looked up just in time to see an outlaw sweep forward, a very old rifle held at the low ready. The outlaw and Dask locked eyes and began to trade shots.


On the left flank, Whillem and Estra sprang into action. Estra ran hard for the cover of a nearby tree while two of the surprised outlaws tried to draw a bead. Estra traded shots with her shotgun, but didn’t hit her target. The two outlaws didn’t see Whilem follow Estra into view and draw down on them with his auto rifle. The weapon bucked in his paws and his volley brought down the lead outlaw.

Dask and Shoutheri clambered up onto the rise, their weapons spitting fire at the outlaws. Dask’s hand cannon found its mark and brought down his shooter, while Shouteri’s laser scored a hit on another outlaw.

On the right flank Midori and P’Hol advanced on another pair of outlaws that were trying to get a flank. Midori climbed up onto the rise and took down the lead outlaw with a ruby red beam of laser fire, while P’Hol dashed out and sprayed the second outlaw with her subgun. The outlaw was a heavy set feral with a military style rifle, and shrugged off the shots without only a few growls of pain.


The Outlaws collapsed on the left flank, Estra swept forward and took down another one with a shotgun blast while Shoutheri and Whillem advanced on the remaining outlaw, a man with a marksman’s rifle and shot him down.

The feral in front of P’Hol swung his rifle around and fired a short burst at P’Hol, who took the volley in the upper chest, she staggered backward and collapsed with the force of the blow.

“P’Hol!” Midori yelled as she came forward and fired her laser, scoring another hit, but the Feral remained standing. Dask followed up and aimed on the move and fired. His shot landed home, and the Feral at last fell.

“Clear!” Shouteri called from his end of the line.


Midori ran forward and crouched beside P’Hol and began checking her vitals. Dask holstered his weapons and strode forward and looked down at P’Hol. Midori rolled P’Hol onto her back and used a knife to cut away the composites of her armour vest. The volley had blown right through, smashed into her ribcage and exited through her spine. There was so much blood, pale blue in colour. Dask felt his stomach churn as his gaze drifted up to P’Hol’s face. Dask knelt down beside her and cradled her head in his hands. Her eyes looked up at the sky and saw nothing, there was a look of surprise on her unmoving face.

“She’s dead,” Dask whispered.

Midori threw away a mass of bandages that she had tried to use to staunch the bleeding in the chest cavity but finally gave up when she realised that P’Hol’s heart had been utterly destroyed.

“Yeah, she’s dead,” Midori whispered.

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Three Mission and Aftermath, Ambush in the Boneyard - Five Parsecs from Home

Battlefield Conditions - Gloomy

“Spread out, my brother’s flunkies are here!” Dask hissed as he gestured for P’Hol to cover him, then gestured for Whillem and Shoutheri to fan out up front. Estra took one step backward, then turned on her heel and faded away into the night.

“Where are you going!” Dask hissed at Estra, but she was already gone.

Estra ignored Dasks protests, she fought to control her breathing and glided through the darkness like a wraith, going wide around the gantries and darted from cover to cover as she closed in from the other side.

Shoutheri and Whilem grabbed positions under a decaying gantry by a mostly rusted through tank. Shoutheri readied his laser rifle and switched on the new battle sight, while Whilem cycled the action of the Auto-Rifle that he had withdrawn from storage and braced it against a decaying support pylon.

The sound of pounding boots on asphalt and the wooping of gangers psyching themselves up for a fight sounded from up ahead, and out of the murky dark. The lead ganger, a woman with an impressive hairdo clutched a crude flamer scanned the ground ahead for targets, and clapped eyes on Shoutheri first. Behind her, a rat faced ganger with a vibroblade revved the mechanism and grinned as he charged forward.

Estra stopped in the shadows as she caught sight of the approaching mob of gangers. She drew her shotgun, braced it and fired.

One of the gangers went down in a heap as his torso took the majority of the buckshot. His comrades gasped in horror, but turned their attention to Estra and charged.

The ganger with a flamer paused and braced her weapon, then sent a gout of flame arcing towards Shoutheri. Shoutheri took the brunt of it, and fell to the ground cursing and yelling. He rolled around in an attempt to smother the chemical fire. Whilem opened fire, and cut down the ganger with the flamer with an abrupt burst of machine gun fire.

Dask and P’Hol scrambled up a nearby ladder and found themselves on top of the gantry, in the perfect position to envelope the mob of gamers with incoming fire. P’Hol darted off to one side, dropped to one knee and fired a short burst at the ganger carrying the vibroblade. The shots hit home and the ganger went down in a heap. Dask stode forward and squared off with another ganger coming up the stairs of the gantry. The two men traded shots without hitting one another. Two gangers closed in on Estra and loosed shotgun blasts and pistol shots, but Estra faded into the dark long before their shots could find her.

Dask raised his hand cannon and squinted down the sights at the oncoming ganger, then held his breath and squeezed the trigger.

Dask’s shot hit the man in the head, who fell backward and came to rest on the stairs.

Estra darted out of cover for a split second, raised her shotgun and fired.

The shot caught another ganger, sending him to the ground.

The surviving gangers tried to dive for cover, but they were covered from up high and down low. Autorifle fire from Whilem and machine-pistol fire from P’Hol killed another. The only remaining ganger screamed in terror as he realised the futility of his situation and turned and ran.

Dask strode forward, sighted the fleeing man in, but didn’t fire. Instead he holstered his pistol and called out to him.

“You tell my pissant brother that you are going to have to do better than that!”

Dask then looked down to see Whilem tending to an unmoving Shoutheri.

”The burns are superficial, I’ve shot him full of painkillers, but nothing permanent.” Whillem said.

“All right, looks like we’ll have to cancel our meeting with ETU and get back to the Hand of Fortune. Let’s back it up and get moving before the enforcers arrive.”

Turn 3 Aftermath

Shoutheri sat on the lounge in the Hand of Fortune while Whilem applied another layer of burn foam over the side that had caught the worst of the flame blast.

“You’re very lucky, Shoutheri. The damage seems almost all superficial, it won’t even scar,” Whillem said.

Shouteri nodded, then leaned back.

“I almost dodged it, next time I’ll be a bit quicker on my feet,” Shoutheri replied.

Post Battle Injury for Shoutheri - School of Hard Knocks

“Dask?” P’Hol called out as she jogged into the lounge.

“Yes?”

“There is a man who claims to be from the Valeris Syndicate at the ramp. He wishes to speak with you. He came alone,” P’Hol said.

“Lead the way,” Dask instructed as he followed P’Hol down the ramp into the cool night air.

A small man with thick rimless glasses and dressed in a designer trench coat waited at the bottom of the ramp. Estra stood nearby and leaned on one of the landing struts, she had her shotgun cradled in her arms as she studied the man.

Dask approached the man and looked down at him.

“I’m Dask, is this about the incident that occurred earlier this evening?”

The man smiled at Dask and politely bowed his head.

“Yes, my name is Cherrun Signh, Envoy for the Valeris Syndicate. I come before you to express my profound sympathy and regret for this evening's earlier trouble. Rest assured, the attempted hit on you had indeed been arranged by Ernst Donovan, your brother I believe?”

Dask nodded and let Cherrun continue.

“Well, the leadership council for Harlen’s World did not sanction this hit. They have voted to remove Ernst Donovan from his leadership position and expel him from the Syndicate for his actions.”

A brief flash of worry crossed Dask’s mind, as much as Ernst deserved whatever fate he got, he was still his brother.

“What are you going to do with Ernst?” Dask asked.

“If Ernst was anyone else we would fly him out to a remote corner of Harlen’s world, put a bullet in his head, and leave his corpse for the Gellec. But given who he is and his connection to your father, we’ve expelled him from the Syndicate and he is currently boarding the next coreward liner under escort. We will deliver him to his father and explain the situation to him.”

Dask suppressed a smile as he heard this. With an embarrassing incident like this on his record, Ernst was now guaranteed to be out of the running for the inheritance of the family business, and hopefully that meant that none of his other brothers and sisters would try to take a shot at him in order to remove him from the competition.

“Good, I appreciate the mercy. I don’t like him, but for better and worse he is family,” Dask replied.

Post Battle Rival Roll - Rival gives up

“Along with this apology I also wish to convey an invitation for a meeting with representatives of the leadership council of Harlen’s World. You handled our people well and we could always use reliable professionals for situations where our own shooters aren’t up for the task. Are you interested?” Cherrun asked.

“Of course, I’d be happy to take the meeting,” Dask replied.

“Splendid, well, here are my contact details,” Cherrun said as he took a thin card out of a breast pocket and passed it to Dask.

Dask looked at it for a moment and saw that it was a series of unmarked network nodes and hidden interface ports with a couple of encryption keys. He put the card in his pocket and nodded.

“Thank you, Envoy Singh, I’m grateful that the Syndicate doesn’t wish to indulge my brother’s vendetta against me,” Dask said.

Cherrun smiled, “goodnight, Mister Donovan,” he said, then turned to leave.

Dask watched the small man disappear into the late evening murk.

Campagin Event - Made some business contacts (Valeris Syndicate)

Dask turned around and studied Estra, who in turn stared back with a vaguely sour expression. P’Hol glared back at Estra for a moment, then headed back up the ramp.

“Something to say, sir?” Estra asked with a little bit of sass in her tone.

Dask sighed, walked up to Estra and leaned on the landing strut next to her.

“You’re a stone cold killer, Estra, I’ll give you that. You handled yourself well and I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Dask, I thought I could get around behind them while they were distracted. It worked out pretty well.” Estra replied.

“Yeah it did, but I did notice something. Your eyes, they’ve got a blue tinge around the edges. How long have you been using Blue Sap and are you still using?” Dask asked, bluntly.

Estra glared for a moment, an expression of vulnerable fury on her face, which quickly morphed into resignation.

“No, I almost screwed up today, but I’m not using right now. I’ve been clean years.”

Dask didn’t reply, instead he nodded.

“Listen, sir. I don’t want to get kicked out, I just got here and I want to make this work. The pay is good and you don’t seem like the worst boss I could’ve landed.” Estra said, almost in a panic.

“It’s okay, I admit, I wouldn’t have hired you. But Midori vouched for you quite strongly and I trust her judgement, now I’m beginning to see why. I’ve now come around to Midori’s point of view, but that is predicated on you staying off the sap, I need my crew to be able to see the galaxy with sober eyes,” Dask said.

“I… Thank you, Dask.” Estra replied.

“I don’t think we need anyone on sentry now, go inside and get some rest,” Dask told Estra.

Estra nodded, then headed up the ramp.

Battlefield Salvage - Vibroblade, Tracker Sight

Character Event - Dask, Time to move on but no effect because character is not currently in sick bay.