Blue Rose
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I have a suspicion. Val's gonna look at our dear bug people. If she and Chase could hear their psychic conversation, it's entirely possible the bugs can hear the team's psychic conversation, so Val's gonna look for any signs that they're listening quietly to the psychic chatter. After all, it's what she'd do in their situation. Sense Motive: 1d20+10 27 Of course, even if she sees no such signs, she'd probably assume anyways.
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Wayward's interests are decidedly more street level, though she's more likely to try and relate to the gangers than beat them up. Then again, that's true of all my characters. >.>
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IMAGINED BY HGM Added Skills: +1 Intimidate +3 Perform (Theater of the Mind) [Performance based on construction of psychic images projected through a mental link. Which is to say, high quality shared daydreaming.] +3 Perform (Strings) +1 Language: French 2 PP spent on skills Added Feats: Second Chance: Flirting Set-Up Uncanny Dodge: Hearing 3 PP spent on feats. Added new complication: Open Channel.
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Can't say I didn't warn you. When the terrain gets too rough for the more powered folks' comfort- a mark Val thinks is premature, but she doesn't say anything- the talk goes to an air lift. It's one of the strangest things she's noticed since she's joined the powered community; how casually folks seem to say, 'I don't feel like walking anymore. Let's just fly.' She'd always been of two minds of it. One two many show-offs, and getting carried around like that feels so... damselly. Not much Val hates more than feeling damselly. On the other hand, there's something about a woman who can fly, taking her into her arms. Her eyes scan Tesla, and Chase gets an inside look at Val's remarkable talent for separating personal differences from raw, physical lust. Wouldn't be the first person she didn't get along with she'd had fun with, and even if they never agreed with one another, after going skin to skin and mind to mind, they always at least understood each other better in the end. Soaring through the air and sorting out some personal differences with Tesla? Not a problem with that in the world... honestly, she probably misjudged her. The way she's been acting, that deserves some respect. She's definitely a woman worth getting to know better over a nice meal and a glass of wine, maybe cut off some rose petals into a hot bath... ...and there goes the ground. Unfortunately, it's Chase who carries her. Not that there'd be any hands on time anyways. This weird psychic energy lift thing is no fun at all; just leaves her wiggling in the air, until she notices how much harder that makes it to keep a grip on her and calms down, firming up her grip on her staff. And then, the voices. She almost relays the info, but Chase beats her to it- -and, laser light show. The shield crackles into being so fast, Val nearly lashes out at it herself. "Careful," she warns Tesla. "Whoever's here, they're nervous enough. Flashy stuff like that all of a sudden might make 'em panic. Gotta take it easy." She casts her gaze towards the falling pebble, not expecting to see anything. Whoever was there, they're probably gone now.
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Notice: 1d20+14 19 Also... Bluff to not be noticed repeatedly staring at Daphne's butt: 1d20+14 25 Did not include Attractive, which would be a +8 if applicable. Or would that be a -8, in this case?
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Val tries to deflect the suggestion of a psychic link based on her own limited range, but at the insistence that Chase's own psychic powers could make up the difference? That makes it possible, but also a worse idea. "Listen, Chase. I have some psychic power, but I ain't like the other psychics you may have met. A link with me is less cell phone, more open the floodgates, stream of consciousness stuff. I can't do the whole rigid, controlled mental barriers thing others can do. It can get..." The first word to come to mind is 'intimate,' but this is going to be awkward enough. She's always uncomfortable linking with men's minds. That level of intimacy she can reconcile with another woman, but with men, it makes her feel a little dirty. "You're going to get more than you bargained for. And you'll probably send more than you're used to, too. Are you alright with that?" When he agrees, she sighs. Can't deny the pragmatism; she reaches out and touches his mind. As they head out, Val knows damn well she can't tech tech the tech tech. At best, she might get a psychic impression of something that matters, but more likely? If it comes to it, she's there to hit some big scary monster with a stick while the eggheads ogle some 'fascinating specimen.' Chase gets to enjoy this entire line of thought unfiltered. Along with a few good looks at the cute reporter girl's butt. But then, Val begins to focus. To ready herself, in case something goes wrong. Most humans are visual, and that's still true for Val, but she balances her senses differently, relying more on hearing. Every rustle and crack and puff of breeze comes through the link, but not far behind sound is what Val feels. That odd fusion between mind and body, between physical sense and intuition. The feel of terrain shifting underfoot, the tremor through the ground, rising up her leg, the patterns of the wind against her bare arms, to a careful measure of how much her hair stands on end and how much those butterflies in her stomach are aflutter. And whether those butterflies are from the nervousness of an imminent attack, or from the cute reporter girl. She projects her constant, acute awareness of her own body through the link, an awareness of self that lets her constantly plan how she will move and strike if an enemy were to suddenly appear. Suddenly, an awareness moves to the front of her mind, transmitting prominently across the link. A discomfort. But she adjusts her bra, shifts some weight around, and returns her attention to more important matters. And after sneaking another good look at Daphne, she returns to her vigilant hyperawareness, following Tesla into the... whatever it is.
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"Of course, Imperatrix." As the rest of the team assembles to greet the ambassador, Tatiana assumes the role of overwatch. Her abilities would be useful at the reception, sure, but she is also uniquely suited to this task. Maintaining the balance between caution and peacemaking. Too aggressive, too inclined to believe the worst in their guests, and it will be a misstep. An insult. An act of aggression. A spark and an 'incident.' Best to avoid such things. But monitoring is still wise; while keeping the display of the meeting on screen, Tatiana extends the range of the station's drone network, focusing not on the Khanate ship itself, but rather on anything they may be there to distract from. Lead with the fist, follow with the dagger.
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Reflexively, Sam nuzzles Tona's hand, her body wanting, needing the touch. Stupid traitor body. "It's my fault. It's all my fault. Shrike, Mouse, Fox, Miss Vance, all of it!" And if you don't leave, you'll be next. "I don't want to hurt you, too." It was rare to bring up anything from Dis, but those two names, she'd mentioned to Tona before. The mercenary who protected her as a kid, eventually dying for her, and the imp who came to Earth with her, and now is in AEGIS custody for attempted global conquest. Which, technically, Sam was an accomplice in.
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"We've considered the Khanate to be The Enemy for far too long. It's become difficult to think of them as people with their own society and culture instead of as a collection of villains." She, too, looks to the screen. "They are a militant culture to be sure, but there are many subtle variations in how this is expressed. They come showing force, yes. Enough to be a threat, but not a peril; they know that if they were to engage with that cruiser, they would be destroyed. The cost to us would not be negligible, but their defeat is assured. Yet it is enough to show their strength, and show that they recognize us as a power to be reckoned with. This is a sign of respect. I suspect they are in need, and are here to ask for help, but must do so in a way that does not betray weakness."
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Tatiana is content to let the ambassador make assumptions about her conclusions, and almost smiles at the level of presumption. But it is an argument she cannot win over this venue, so she remains quiet. Once the call is over, and Mater Vyrdna has arrived, however, she can speak freely. She returns Vyrdna's salute. "Thank you for coming," she greets. "A short time ago, a Khanate cruiser has approached Coalition Victory Station. One Ambassador Draan Raal on board hailed the station, and insisted on a meeting with several key ambassadors in the name of Kinan Khan," she explains succinctly. The recap complete, she looks to Amara and asks, "Would it surprise you if I said I suspect this may not be a trap?"
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Elite: Praetorians: Zealots Wayward: Beautiful Poetry of the Earth
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"Be always mindful not just of the message you're trying to send, but the message that will be received," Tatiana warns. "Keep in mind, the Khanate states are very much a warrior culture. If we visibly increase military patrols like that, the move has a high likelihood of being construed as a challenge or a threat. In either case, they risk loss of face as cowards if they do not engage. Mines provide a measure of security and threat without offering the temptation of honorable combat, and it is a clearly defensive measure." She taps a few buttons on a console, "Perhaps we are focusing too much on the direct approach." She turns her console, revealing a holo projection of the Sea of Stars; a Lor music group known for exceptional use of percussion. "Perhaps it is time to ask someone to go on tour."
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Tatiana nods, "The plan is to go ahead of the ship, off-hull, and stage our own ambush. The ship enters, the enemy reveals themselves. We launch our ambush, distracting them from the ship. If we can program a remote signal for the ship to withdraw to just outside the asteroid field at that point, the risk should be manageable."
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I talk to the spirits in the language of my people. Guitar: 1d20+22 38
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While Klara is talking the finer points of greeting spirits, Val gets to work greeting spirits. She has a guitar. She has an amp in the jeep. It has a battery. Even as Klara is talking, Val is behind her setting up the hello, turning her amp up to 11. It isn't actually any louder than 10, but it makes her feel better. With a breath, she takes Marianne in hand and just plays whatever comes to her. Let's see if these things respond to their own music.
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"Lady Bee makes a strong observation. This would work well as an obscure location to gather. Decentralized organization has served them well in their defense and survival, but some goals require a foundation. A satellite of order circling their anarchy." As Tatiana speaks, she continues her sensor sweep, tracking their mark. "But it begs the question; why did this one lead us here? Either they have completed something and they consider themselves ready for us, or this is a young and inexperienced opponent, fleeing to perceived safety out of fear, to the doom of their allies. None of us have survived this long by assuming our adversaries are children and fools." So many options. She gives Bee an abridged translation as she thinks. "This is clearly an ambush. If this ship does not enter, they will take it as fear and hesitation, and be emboldened. If we do enter, we will be attacked on their terms. An undue risk. I propose this ship enter enemy territory, but we will not be on it. Lord Magnetar, do you believe we could program the ship's computer to make a shallow entry into the asteroid field, unmanned?"
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Notice: 1d20+20 28
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"Yes, I see..." Elite replies in GalStandard, paying close attention to the sensor readouts. "An old trick, but only because it is a good one." She starts adjusting sensor filters to try and keep the trail. "I believe I can keep the trail, if you believe it safe to navigate the asteroid belt." She then proceeds to relay the situation to Queenie in the... well, a language of her planet called English. One of entirely too many. "Be ready, everyone. This would be an excellent place for an ambush."
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Val travels along, taking any distraction from the heat. Some light small talk, and a lot of quality time with Marianne, the guitar that's been with her since the beginning. Nothing fancy. Just relaxing and doing what comes naturally, letting the music come, humming and strumming a tune. But it's a little different today, like this little spark of inspiration, a tune coming of its own accord. Odd song, though, not something she'd normally think of. Must be the setting, getting the creative juices flowing, but this one will take some work. Yet the farther they go, the more her tune takes shape into something she isn't aiming for. She tries for some tweaks, but every time she tries to relax and let her version flow, it goes back just the way it was. When the group finally reaches their destination, she's had enough of the heat. She ditches the cargo pants in favor of the black compression shorts underneath, and slides her collapsible staff into the band. But she doesn't let go of Marianne. She gets out, guitar in hand, still playing the song as she joins the gathering group.
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Valerie goes on the tour, getting plenty of screen time and trying to keep up as the casual technobabble makes her feel out of place. Still, she tries to keep up, asking questions her less-than-tech-savvy audience would probably want to know. "Gravitons?" she asks. "Like, the ship changes gravity to fall whatever direction you want?" She rolls the idea over in her head. It seems really cool, but kind of scary, too. Falling through weird interdimensional space stuff? That doesn't quite seem safe, but what does she know? At Tesla's announcement, Val flicks out her staff, extending it to full length to use as a fancy hiking stick, Something a little more hands on sounds better than some more time in the classroom, but she waits long enough to get Vicky's answer and film a transition before heading to the dock.
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I was rolling just to be a smartass with my +0 modifier. But I'll roll that into Val asking a reasonably intelligent question about gravitons.
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"They dealt with more, I suspect," Tatiana says offhandedly to Amara's question as she returns to the gathering with a tray bearing three hot cups of tea, black and strong, which she offers to the others. "Few people are used to looking beyond a single planet's problems. When you step back and look at the combined troubles of an entire galaxy, it is always going to seem bleak, if only from the sheer size of the galaxy. If you aren't careful, it can be overwhelming." She takes a seat and proceeds to think over the situation. She'd gone over the reports already. Now, it's time to brainstorm over a cup of tea. "Political relations with the former Khanate states will be difficult. It is a turbulent political environment. Backing any one state could end in that state gaining too much power and turning against us. If we try and build those relations with a single state and do not support it, it can easily cease to be at any time. If we are going to build relations in that region, there can be no 'little' about it, nor will it be particularly subtle. Which means that we will have to overcome the hurdle that everyone we speak to will know we are in talks with their enemies as well. A difficult hurdle, but not insurmountable." She takes a sip of tea and lets the warmth wash over her. Space always seems so cold to her, no matter what the environmental controls are set to. "But so long as the former Khanate states are more focused on squabbling with one another than on acting against us, they are a limited threat. What we need are ways to make the border worlds unappealing targets without drawing too many people or resources."
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Well, if it makes you feel better, Tristan... Knowledge: This Science Thing Everyone's Talking About: 1d20 16 ... Huh. That pointless roll was better than I expected. Maybe Val will manage to not sound like a complete idiot for a moment.
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(Double post)
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Sam continues trying to crawl into some hole in the back of her head and disappears, but Tona manages to keep laying on the guilt. She pictures Tona out in the cold, climbing up to her window. It isn't snowing outside, but that doesn't stop her imagination from making a blizzard. Soot's sandpapery tongue brings her back to reality for one confused moment of lucidity, "But... the door isn't locked." Just like Tona, to start with the hard way.