The other two open fire as you drop down again. Part
of the steel box that provides your cover blasts apart and slams into your helm,
ringing your skull painfully, then another part catches you in the chest. You
lose
4 Blood
, though you may subtract your
Defense
rating from
this amount. Be sure to erase the amount of ammunition that you used.
If you die, then you may
Regenerate
by turning back to section
161
.
If you survive, then your com-link clicks to life. A
calm, aristocratic voice says, “Commander Uther, do you read me? This is
Captain Numitor.” You can hear him loud and clear over the
Penelope’s
powerful
communications link.
“SIR, YES SIR!” cries Uther.
“The good news,” says Numitor, in a conversational
tone, “is that our infantry have beaten back the attackers. Unfortunately I’ve
had to recall most of them to our own ship. You see, some nine enemy units have
broken into our own ship. We had quite a battle on the deck and killed three of
them, but they managed to find our shield generator. Another has died against
the soldiers there, but the last five are putting up quite a fight. My second
is throwing around the word ‘retreat’. How are things over there, Commander?”
“Few minutes, sir!” says Uther. “Few minutes, that’s
all we need.”
Damn!
you
think.
I hope that hot supply depot chick didn’t get her
face seared off or her intestines blown out by some monster. I never even
caught her name
...
You prepare to fire at the second guard.
You must now compute a number that will determine
the accuracy of your second shot. This number is your
Dexterity
. If you
are trained in
Weapon Proficiency: Ranged
, and it is with the weapon you
are using, add 3 to this number. If you are using a
Rifle
, add 2. If you
are using a
Shotgun
, add 1. For every
3 Handgun bullets
you fire,
add 1. For every
2 Rifle bullets
you fire, add 1. For every
Shotgun
shell
you fire, add 1. Furthermore, if you have
Sixth
Sense
,
add 1 to this number.
If the number is 7 or less, turn to section
488
.
If the number is between 8 and 13, turn to section
111
.
If the number is 14 or more, turn to section
422
.
If you are completely out of bullets, turn to
section
471
.
You draw your blade and rush towards the
deconstructor.
You must now compute a number that will determine
the outcome of the battle. This number is your
Ground Combat (or 1 G Combat)
added to your
Strength
stat. If you have the
Weapon Proficiency:
Hand-to-Hand
skill with a
Blade
, add 2 to this number.
If this number is 4 or less, turn to section
128
.
If this number is 5 or more, turn to section
435
.
You walk the cold grey halls until you come to the
lounge. This room is much warmer than any you have been in so far, and its
walls are covered in varnished wood. You see many photos and paintings of
scenes of Earth. There is a bar on one side. The air is thick with smoke. You
see clean-cut bomber pilots, roughneck infantrymen,
ship
personnel of all shapes, sizes, ages, and a few painted geishas with Legion
medals on their low-cut black sweaters.
You notice a group of three infantry at a table near
the bar. The table sways wildly because two of them are arm-wrestling while
they chug; the third counts in German.
When one man sputters,
drops his beer, and loses the arm-wrestling match, the third man points to him
and shouts, “Fifty!
Gimme
fifty now, boy!”
Cursing, the loser drops to the floor and
blasts through dozens of rapid push-ups. Nobody seems in a rush to calm the men
down.
A drunk stumbles into you. As he apologizes, you
grab his arm, then say, “What’s up with those psychos over there?”
“Them?” says the drunk, laughing good-naturedly.
“They’re some o’ them... uh, they’re
human
fanatics
, is what they
are. Good guys, though, I got no problems.”
You look at him questioningly.
“Me? I was
workin
’ for
Stellar, see,
got
picked up. This place’s a little
different though,
cause
I can’t leave
.
Funny, huh?
Well, it isn’t. Listen, I’m
thinkin
’
of
tryin
’ to escape-”
“I don’t care,” you say. “What’s a human fanatic?”
“Guess it’s some kind of religion.
Or a philosophy.
Mostly, though, it’s kind of a cult. Wipes
out the mind, you know. No room for independent thought. Me, I tend to live and
let live. If someone’s got a problem with me, we talk it out.
These guys?
Hell.
Shit
, man. You better believe me.
Most of them spend more time in lock-down than anywhere else. All I’m saying is
,
has anyone even tried talking to these so-called Invaders?
Maybe it’s just some misunderstanding -”
You are instantly enraged. “They invaded our solar
system, destroyed our colonies, and took our homeworld from us,” you say,
straining against the impulse to murder the man. “No human city has been left
standing. What is there to misunderstand about that?”
“I’m just
saying,
is all!”
says the man, his head shaking wildly as he sidesteps away from you. “I can’t
even talk to you people!
You sound just like one of them!
”
Once the drunk leaves, the anger fades. You think
about talking to the fanatics, but they seem incredibly busy with their
drinking. You decide to hurry to the supply depot to check out your gear, since
there’s no telling when you’ll need it.
Turn to section
410
.
You fire. The girl’s head snaps backward, spattering
the laborer’s neck and shoulder with blood. His eyes widen, staring down at the
ruins of her head.
Shocked, you cannot decide what to do. Then the
laborer looks at you, says, “Looks like you get to join us.” With that he
raises his gun and fires. You try to move but the bullet slams into your side,
drilling into your ribs and lodging there. You lose
7 Blood
, but you may
subtract your
Dexterity
score from this amount. Furthermore, your suit
has been punctured. If you have any
Sticky
Fix
, you must use one
dose now to fix your suit; if you do not have any of this
item
,
make a note that
your suit has been damaged.
Be sure to erase any
ammunition that you used.
If you have died, then you may
Regenerate
by turning to section
312
, or, if you want to go
back further, you may turn to section
179
.
If you survive, then you fall to your knees and
glare at the laborer. Holding the dead girl close, he looks straight ahead,
then
says, “We didn’t want no part in your world, anyway.”
He puts the gun to his own head.
“Stop!” you shout. “Don’t do it!
You’re wasting
bullets!
” But it’s too late - the man fires, blowing his brains out like a
rainbow that comes in only one color. His body falls in a twitching heap beside
the woman he loved. You may take his
Bloody Chrome-Plated 9mm (Handgun, bulk
2)
and
3 Handgun bullets (bulk 1)
if you wish.
Turn to section
166
.
Your computer helm whirs to life on its own. Unsure
what is happening, you intuitively navigate through its menus and find that its
rudimentary scanning functions have picked up something floating very close to
your own path. You know that even in the most densely-packed sections of the
Asteroid Belt, the chances of randomly finding anything in the depths of space
are minuscule. Fully aware of the strangeness of this find, you change course,
slightly, to intercept the object.
As you draw near, your helm scanner reports that the
object is biological in nature. You check, re-check, triple-check the report.
It seems that you are indeed approaching some large, living thing in the cold
of space.
“So this is what insanity feels like,” you mutter.
“Sweet.”
You draw closer to the thing, a round grey ball that
your scanners estimate is about one mile in circumference. You fly closer until
you can make out things like hairs shifting in a breeze; it is difficult to
really feel out the size of the thing, but you guess that each “hair” is most likely
as thick as a man’s arm. Since, of course, there is no breeze, the tentacles
must be moving of their own accord. You can also see blue highlights along the
surface of the ball, things like streams of ice. There is no question in your
mind whether or not you should investigate the thing living in the vacuum: You
have been alone without stimulation for so long that you are utterly compelled
to draw nearer. You leave the net and supplies floating in space, then decide
how best to approach.
If you are trained in
Xenology
,
turn to section
52
.
If you do not have such training, but your
Intelligence
is 3 or more, turn to section
314
.
Otherwise, turn to section
176
.
You
zig
when you should
have
zagged
. You run by the welding coil, shielding
your face with your hands. It whips around and smacks you in the back of your
fool-head, sending you flying: Lose
1 Blood.
You consider yourself lucky
that the fiery end of the thing didn’t touch you.
You jog down the hall. You see a closed door to your
right. Behind you, the mist is far away but is advancing rapidly.
If you want to duck into the other room, either to
hide or just to take a peek, turn to section
90
.
If you want to keep moving ahead, turn to section
430
.
As he tends to your wounds, the doctor sees the
strange device hanging from your utility belt. “Eyes off my paper weight,” you
say.
“That’s not a paper weight,” the doctor says,
nodding to it.
“Well, I was gonna use it for one.”
“Then you would be wasting its full capabilities,”
says the doctor. “I know... knew the man who worked on that thing. An eccentric
young scientist obsessed with war.”
“Sounds ill,” you say.
“He was mentally ill, I think. He had a great
mind... but in the end, only devoted his energy to the creation of machines of
destruction. That thing, you see, is a powerful implosion bomb. Just yank that crank
there, twist that knob, and... BOOM!
Except in reverse.”
You may keep the
High-Power Implosion Grenade
(bulk 3)
if you like.
Turn to section
328
.
The gun bucks in your hand and sparks fly up from one
of the robots. It shrieks,
then
crashes in the
darkness. The other deconstructor emerges into the light, segmented tentacles
whirling, insect-like face glaring without mercy, pincers grinding against one
another. You brace yourself, ready to send it the way of its brother.
Be sure to erase the number of bullets that you
spent in the battle.
If you have a
Mace
, you can bash this thing
by turning to section
132
.
If you have a
Blade
, invite it to a razor
party by turning to section
544
.
If you have a
Spear
, run it through by
turning to section
354
.
If you have none of these weapons, face it with your
bare hands at section
88
.
“You’re right,” says the scared revolutionary,
sighing loudly as he lowers his gun. “If I’m gonna die anyway, then I
wanna
-”
“Damn you!” screams the other. He turns slightly,
his gun wavers then the lawman fires over and over, drilling both men. They
slam into each other, hacking on blood, as thick rivulets of blood spring out
of them both. They crash to the ground in one another’s arms.
You gain
1 XP
for being such a smooth
operator.
Suddenly the lawman looks at you. “What?” you say.
“Uh... well...” he stammers.
“What?!
Haven’t you ever wasted a ton of dudes before? Believe me, it happens all the
time.”
“I, uh,” he says, trying to recover himself, gun
shaking in his hands. “I
gotta
get outta here. Fight
some crime, or something.
Something.”
He stares ahead
and marches out of the room.