Gareth Clark - The Blue Swallow Saloon

Well that escalated quickly.

I had just stopped glaring at the asshole who threw the dart to wipe myself off, when I saw that some vicious catfight had broken out by Momo, and the place became even rowdier. And just when I had processed that and what a fucking mess this was turning into, in came the sheriff. Now, my dad was the sheriff back home. Despite all those scumbags out there abusing the power the badge gives them, I respect the position greatly. But gorram it, if I didn’t hate it when our paths crossed. We had our mission and they've got theirs, and rarely did the two meet peaceably. Maybe this one was on the up and up and maybe he weren’t, but him coming in there now certainly wasn’t helping us none.

Oberon was looking to bug out. I got up to move in, but Jo was on him faster. She started giving out orders to all of us, and I got the order to make a distraction.

Well hey, some jiǔ guǐ had just thrown a dart at me. Shiny. I could make a distraction out of that. First, though…

“Three in the corner playing poker, and the woman in the hat. Watch out,” I whispered quickly as I passed Jo, stalking towards the bar with the dart in hand.

"Hey!" I said loudly, adding a bit of a slur to my voice as I approached the laughing group, before I slammed the dart down into the table point-first in front of them. Their drinks rattled noisily. “You biǎo zǐ yǎng de think this is funny?"

[Rolling to provoke them into a fight. Social d8, Influence d8, and Reader d8. Got an 11.]

 

William Davis - Aboard The Manifest Destiny

William grunted in response to Nick's reaction. There was not much to add really and he was already taping away on his tablet trying to track the trojan's origin. The results were somewhat unexpected.

Damn it! This better not be about me!

Of course, Sam had to use that stupid nickname now. He couldn't keep the scowl that came out, nor the biting retort.

"Sod off Sam! At least I'm not the one relegated to escort duty. Probably the only thing you're good at eh?"

That might have been a bit hard, but he had no patience in light of the recent discovery. The implication of the trojan being specifically target for him was unsettling and he had no time to banter with the guy.

He gathered his headphones, hit play on his playlist and started working on erasing all traces of the trojan (20) [1 JINX]. Corrupted files were quarantine, unexpected packet flow were analyzed and trace back to their sources which were destroy thoroughly. Hopefully, he hadn't leak any important information in the short time it took him to identify the trojan's presence.

Let's hope this works.

 

The Blue Swallow Saloon

"Ruttin' hell," says Oberon [5 - 16], glancing from you to the sheriff and back again. "Right, fine, but we'll slip out the back."

The portly man grabs you by the forearm and tugs you in the direction of the rear of the saloon. His hand is warm and slick, though you don't think it's sweat as much as some sort of mechanical grease. You slide free of his grip, but he doesn't wait to see if you'll follow, instead ducking toward the back of the establishment, stepping over the ladies still beating two shades of hell outta each other.


Chang

Up close you notice that the Sheriff is evidently of some sort of oriental lineage, though you suspect there's a bunch of other races mixed in there too. His jutting jaw is strengthened by a pencil thin beard that traces its outer edge, and the hair at his temples is just beginning to grey with age.

Yet he barely seems to register you, [9 - 6] or your words. Instead his eyes are fixed on the retreating back of Oberon.

"Excuse me, sir," he says, sidestepping around you. "I'll just be a second. There's a man here I need to be speaking with."


Gareth

The man immediately throws off his coat, [8 - 11] and it's only when you see the bulging muscles of an experienced rancher that you think you may have made a mistake. You know that fellas like this can pack a mean punch, especially when they've been drinking. His friends rise to the challenge too, stepping up behind him and looming.

He doesn't seem to be the kind for words, either, because he tries to blindside you with a big haymaker of a punch [10].


The Blue Swallow Saloon

The three big lads in the corner seem to catch sight of Oberon leaving and after a brief discussion, they rise to follow him, hands slipping to their belts. They're not mighty subtle about it either, their big bulky shapes pushing their way through the crowd without even a modicum of finesse.


And in all the confusion, someone apt at noticing things might just spot something else too [13] (Spent 1 GM PP to bring in an extra die).


Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Will

The trojan, once you've isolated it and worked out its particular nuances, actually proves very little challenge to someone of your ability[7 - 20]. Though you still can't tell precisely what its purpose was, or even where it came from, you're reasonably sure you can purge it from your system. Whatever it's intended purpose, it won't be serving it any longer.

However, you're just entering the final keystrokes when your playlist abruptly stops. After frowning, you bring up your media library and discover to your horror, that every single track has been corrupted. After the shock has subsided, you take a quick look over your file directories and find more swathes of files that have been rendered entirely useless. Tā mā de! You've got a Partially Corrupted Hard Drive [D6].

You don't know if that was the trojan, or your recovery attempt. You can only hope that some of them are recoverable and that there hasn't been any permanent damage.

 

A flash of fury courses through Sam for a moment, until he sees Will's face drop.

"What's the problem Silver Spoon?" he says with a mocking tone. "Find a problem you can't money your way out of."

Still, despite the irritation that Will might cause him, Sam knows that the doctor is a part of his crew, so he circles around to get a better look at the problem. (12)

The fact that he might have an opportunity to out-do Will is just a bonus.

 

Jolene Ang - The Blue Swallow Saloon

I watch as the sheriff neatly sidesteps my colleague, cursing inwardly as he does. This is too big of a catch for me to let it go this easily. I hustle Oberon towards the back door, careful to avoid the women who are still brawling on the floor of the bar. A group of spectators have gathered around them, cheering and jeering and generally acting like assholes.

I give one guy who got too close an elbow in the gut for his trouble, but ignore the rest as best I can. Oberon is ahead of me and I hurry to catch up, only chancing a glance back to see if Momo and the Sheriff are still following when I'm within arm's reach of the thief.

That's when I notice the three burly guys making their way through the crowd. I look at the table they'd just vacated and see the poker cards abandoned there. Must be the group Gareth was talking about. They look mean, but I've dealt with their kind before. If they start trouble, well, my rifle is always ready and no qīng wā cào de líu máng is going to intimidate me.

I turn back to Oberon, confirming that he's still there, and something odd catches my eye...

(Rolled Notice to spot the secret thing - Mental [D10]/Notice [D10]/Detective [D4] for a Plot Point - Scored a freaking 20.)

 

Nick King - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Although Sam didn't seem to think much of it, this passenger being some sort of engineering genius didn't do much to calm Nick down. All that meant was that it was entirely possible Wolfe would have the expertise to create a trojan that even Will couldn't handle. Nick had cooled off a bit from his initial reaction: everybody had a right to keep their own past and way of life if it suited 'em. He didn't want his own past to be examined too closely, for that matter.

That said, a brilliant, wealthy man with a fine bearing and no past could go live his secretive life elsewhere; the people on this boat were Nick's friends, by and large, and money wasn't worth taking risks with them. Long would feel differently, of course, and her word was final on the Destiny, but it would be worth trying to get her to stay on guard, at least.

Just as he had come to the decision to go track her down and talk to her about it despite almost certainly already knowing her response, Sam and Will sparked another argument. Damn, why couldn't they just leave each other be? Maybe he could head that off before he left; he didn't really want to risk running into Wolfe too soon, anyway. He didn't want him to know that the crew was on to him if he was up to anything nefarious.

Still, he'd almost rather risk it than this... He could still remember a time when he got to be snarky - now it seemed like he was just a nanny to a bunch of over-eager boys. Ahh well, champagne problems.

"Come on, boys, not now. Look, I know you guys aren't exactly the best of friends, and that's okay, you're still getting to know one another. You'll come around. But crew is crew, fellas. Have a little respect for each other! And if you can't do that, at least keep it to yourself while something is up. It may turn out I'm being paranoid about this Mr. Wolfe, but for the sake of the crew, or for my sake if the crew isn't enough, keep the arguing to a minimum till we sort this situation a bit, please?" [12]

 

Chang's smile seems to lock on his face as he is so very neatly sidestepped, before the facade cracks and disappears as he looks back at the bar dissolving into brutality and barbarism. Oh to live in a more genteel world. he thinks wistfully.

He catches sight of the three men looking to making inappropriate gestures towards Jo with their hands in their pants, and decides that maybe he should follow along to defuse whatever tension is bound to happen. If Chang is lucky, they are just having severe bladder issues, and not attempting to pull guns out in the middle of a bar. Chang does not feel particularly lucky at this point in time. So he runs out after Oberon and the sherriff. (move 10 to follow)

 

Captain Long Sinh - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Sinh's slanted eyes narrowed even more tightly as she slowly worked through what her new customer had said.

He did seem a bit overeager to be gone.

Her instincts from her younger days said to squeeze him until he gave her the whole story...

...but the business sense she had gained as a Ship's Captain told her that threatening a customer paying for First Class wasn't a good working habit to get into.

Well. Not on a regular basis.

The captain settled for a bit of inoffensive probing. "Glad to hear it, Mr. Wolfe. Though, if you're expecting trouble, I'd rather hear about it now, rather than later, when it comes charging up my cargo door." [16, 1 JINX]

 

Gareth Clark - The Blue Swallow Saloon

[First, I’m going to spend 1 PP to step back this “Mighty Rowdy Locals (d6)” Complication.]

He was a big guy. Man like him was likely born and raised here, working the ranches all his life, and the heavy muscle that was previously well-hidden by his jacket could attest to that. Fast, too, drunk as he was. A punch like that could probably have clocked me out right there.

But strong and fast as he was, he was untrained. A lifetime ago, feels like now, I served with the Browncoats in the Unification War. Talents like mine, they brought me up from the grunts and trained me as a field agent in the Intelligence corps. Among other things, that included instruction in hand-to-hand combat techniques; a subject, as it happened, I turned out to have something of an aptitude for. I tried out a few different martial arts, but the one I happened to like most was one called Taekwondo. Came in handy back then, sure, but it weren’t until after the war that I really developed it. Out here in the black, you can’t always rely on a gun, and there ain’t no better weapon to have than your own body. Not to mention it helps calm me down some, practicing.

Anyway, despite being thrown off some by how big this guy was, I saw that punch coming a mile away, and I was already moving. I bobbed to the side, dodging the punch, and spun, lashing out with a swift kick to the gut. Then I threw my hands out to grab him by the shirt.

“Too slow, you inbred trash!” I taunted loudly. I was hoping that heads were starting to turn my way. “Maybe ya’ll should spend more time learning to fight instead of fucking cows!”

Then I heaved, turning and shoving him behind me, right to the floor in front of the sheriff.

[Rolled to fight, got a 9. Spent my last 1 PP to use my Big Damn Hero d8 and got an 8, which added to that brings the total up to 17.]

 

The Blue Swallow Saloon


Jo

As you glance behind you briefly, you notice that the oriental woman who Gareth pointed out to you has vacated her seat and vanished from view. There's absolutely no sign of her in the saloon at all and you don't remember seeing her move from her seat before you headed off.

At the rear of the room is a door, nestled in the corner next to an ancient looking jukebox. The saloon is less crowded here, with most of the patrons attracted to the commotion near the front of the building. But it's through this door that Oberon ducks through, parting the curtain of red, yellow and brown clattering beads and disappearing into a dingy back room.

It's dark beyond the door, illuminated only by thin windows at the top of the room that cut the light in uneven portions and catch the dust motes floating in the air. Outside the sun must have mostly set and you imagine that the feeble light entering the room is reflected from Jiangyin itself.

The majority of the room seems to be filled with flimsy steel shelving occupied by what you imagine to be bottles or barrels of whatever watered-down swill this place serves. But most of the room is lost in uneven grey and black shading.

Oberon pauses in the doorway and reaches out for the lightswitch. You hear a click and— nothing.

"Fuck," he says, taking a tentative step into the dark.

Take a D8 BDH Die


Chang

Years of practice of dealing with crowded cities [3 - 10] in the core mean that you've got absolutely no problems edging your way between the milieu of bodies, even managing to leap the two wrestling women on your way through. A couple of people here and there shout curses after you as you slide up against them, or gently maneuver them out of the way, but you're off like a shot before they have any real chance to react.

Somehow, even you're not quite sure how, you make such good progress that you end up between the sheriff and the thugs moving up behind Jo.

Take a BDH die at D8 and there's an opportunity, if you want it.


Gareth

It's true what they say, bigger they are, harder they fall. Especially when you're the one throwing them about. You get a whole bunch of momentum up and the rancher goes crashing into the legs of some folks gettin' a little too close. They all go down in a nice big heap, right at the feet of the Sheriff.

He takes one look at you and gives a world weary sigh.

"Right," he says, glancing behind you at the retreating backs and then fixing you with a hard expression. His hand drifts to the gun at his belt. "Y'all gonna come quietly, or am I going to have to bring you in?"

"No need, Sheriff," says one of the downed Rancher's friends as the three of them step up to you. "We'll bring this bèn tiān shēng de yī duī ròu in for you. Once we're finished with him."

Take a D8 BDH Die


Aboard the Manifest Destiny


Barnabus looks at Sinh, [12 - 16] licks his lips and teeters for a moment on the verge of saying something. Then he lets out a deep breath and his entire body sags forward, all of the personality and gentle snobbery he'd carried with him before vanishes to be replaced by the look of a man that's at the end of his tether.

"Listen, Captain," he says. "I'll be straight with you. I'm running. Not from the law, understand, but from some tài bǎo that I owe money to. Big money." He runs a hand through his hair. "I thought I had the opportunity to make some money here in Hidden Acres, enough to pay off my creditors ten times over. Turns out it was all a big con and this guy made off with pretty much everything I've got left." He pulls out a folded stack of bills, it's not huge, but not exactly pocket change either. "I'm good for the cabin if you can get me off this rock and keep me off the radar for a time."

He pulls a few bills from the stack, pockets them and tosses the whole lot to the Captain.


Sinh

It feels good beneath your fingers and there's enough to keep your bird in the air for another few months. Whether his story has any truth to it at all, you can't be certain, and this guy gives you a mighty bad feeling. But the money in his hand is genuine enough and, as we all know, Money is Mighty Tempting (D6).

There's an opportunity from my roll if you want it.


Sam

Even without operating the device, [9 - 12] you can instantly see that he's corrupted his Hard Drive, in a mighty bad way, too. Looks like entire sectors have dropped out. You wager it's likely caused by whatever he's done to rid himself of the virus and isn't anything a reformat wouldn't solve, but unfortunately the data itself is likely lost.

You folks (Sam and Will) need to roll social and focus or influence or bow to Nick's persuasion.

 

Sam Bose - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

"Hey!" Sam says, scandalized. "I didn't start this."

He pauses for a moment.

"Well I did. But that last crack Silver Spoon made was out of line."

He sighs. "But of course, you're right, Nick. I ain't apologizing to him, but I'll let it go. Anyhow I got some maintenance that might need doing."

Sam gets up to leave. "Silver Spoon, by the way. That corrupted data? That's gone. But the rest of it should be fine once you format the damn thing. Seems escort duties not the only thing I'm good at."

With that Sam starts heading toward the engines.

 

Jolene Ang - The Blue Swallow Saloon

"Quiet," I say to Oberon as I enter the room. Something doesn't sit right about this; a bar as busy as this one should have lights that work in the back room. Too easy to fall over and break a lot of booze otherwise. Every instinct I have is screaming at me that something is wrong with this and that I should be on my guard. I've learned to trust my instincts so I unsling my rifle and grab hold of Oberon's coat.

"Wait."

I close the door behind us, cutting off what light there was. If anyone had been hiding in here before we entered they'd almost certainly lost their night vision when we opened the door. At least that's what I hope. I crouch low and creep in front of Oberon, trying to spot movement or perhaps the silhouette of a door in the darkness.

(Well slap my ass and call me Sally. Notice roll gave me a 17 this time. Dicebot likes me.)

 

Morris "Momo" Phan - The Blue Swallow Saloon

Momo stared at the thief. His eyes narrowed as he followed the man, his nostrils flared and he reached into his coat, drawing his Whisper Pistol. His keen eyes noted several small details (rolled a [14] if I'm reading this right for the Tracker distinction, expending 1pp). He hoped he could remember those after they got away from the lawman. He had a feeling he'd find the man fairly easily if he tried to run again.

He turned to the lawman and held the pistol against his leg, concealing it in the folds of his jacket. His other hand came up to tip his hat at the sheriff. He also noted the men with him.

As Jolene spoke he grimaced at Gareth, shaking his head disappointingly. He wasn't sure if he wanted in on the fight Gareth was starting or if he just was disappointed in Gareth's choice of distraction, but he tried to subtly signal to him that he'd drawn his gun, without alerting the Sheriff and his men.

 

William Davis - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Zāo gāo

Not only did he have to deal with a corrupted hard drive, but also with that damn annoying engineer as well as being scolded by his friend for not playing nice. Although Nick had a point and maybe, just maybe, Sam was right too. The last dig had crossed the line.

"Sam!" William called out as the man was leaving. "Sorry. It was innapropriate. I was frustrated and took it out on you. Thanks, for the tip," he said with a grimace.

Sam would understand how much he was loath to say such a thing. For someone as bright as Will, to admit he was wrong. Well it speak for itself. That dreadful business out of the way, he returned quickly to more pressing matters.

He started the process of reformating his tablet. He'd lose a couple of files, but nothing too important. He was not an amateur: he had backup on a portable storage device in his cabin. It would take an hour minimum to complete the task and then he'd know for sure if everything was working properly.

 

Nick King - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Huh. That was a pleasant surprise. Nick honestly didn't know if he was going to be able to get them to stop short of one or both of them storming away pissed at the whole 'Verse, not after Sam started up with "Silver Spoon" again and Nick dismissed Sam's work. Maybe they were coming around after all. That, or he was just a persuasive son of a bitch. He hoped it was the second today; Long was next on his list, and she had damn sure never minded telling him no.

Better thank Sam before he got away. "Thank you, Sam." That was enough. Sam didn't need many words to get by; he knew Nick wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it. Will chimed in with as close to an honest apology as you'd hear on this boat before Sam got out of earshot, too, so Nick figured he could count this one more or less resolved.

"Thank you too, Will," Nick said as the irritable mechanic got out of earshot. "I know he provokes you just as much as you do him, and usually more, but he had a pretty rough go of things before he ended up on the Destiny. I know that doesn't make that chip on his shoulder okay, but maybe it'll make him easier to understand. He didn't grow up like you, or even like me; it's just been him against a rough world for a long time. He'll come around, like he did for the captain and me, and when he does you won't be able to find a more loyal friend.

Still, you gotta help that along, and regardless of what he calls you, he doesn't dispute your importance. That's touchy, Will. Just try for me, okay? If he doesn't ease up, I'll go track him down and talk to him about it. Fair?"

Speech delivered, Nick readied himself to leave. He didn't want the kid to feel like he was hounding him, though, so he figured he could soften it just a bit before parting.

"Oh, and don't worry about the tablet. Just take your time, and you'll sort it out; as much as I hate to admit it, you can run circles around me and everybody else on this boat when it comes to the Cortex. Whatever happened, you'll sort it out. I'm going to give you a little peace now, though; it's time for me to go see a lady about a passenger."

 

Gareth Clark - The Blue Swallow Saloon

I raised my hands as the sheriff turned his attention to me, and the other ranch-hand goons started making their threats.

Well, I got their attention. What the hell was step two?

And who were they calling inbred?

In the crowd behind the sheriff, I could see Momo standing there. The way his arm was kept hidden under his jacket, I assumed he’d drawn his gun, and he was staring at me. Looked a mite disappointed, actually. Figured I knew why; my choice of distraction was a bit impulsive. But it sure got their attention, and weren’t that the point of a distraction? Besides, an opportunity fell in my lap (or drink), and it wasn’t like I had time for subtlety then anyway. Meh, we’d hash it out later, maybe.

I shot him a small shrug, trying to convey that this weren’t exactly an ideal situation. Then I looked at where he’d stashed his gun, and gave a quick shake of my head. Wasn’t looking to escalate this none, and we didn’t need to kill anyone if we didn’t have to, especially a sheriff. Still, hopefully he knew he was welcome to chip in if he saw an opportunity, long as we didn’t add more bloodstains to the floor. We’d been in similar scraps before after all, back in our bounty hunting days.

I turned my attention back to the four very ornery men surrounding me, and tried to think of a way to settle this back down again while still keeping the sheriff’s attention from Jo and Chang.

“Whoa, hey there, settle yourselves down,” I said, turning a bit to the rancher’s buddies. I kept the slight slur in my speech and tried to play myself up as just a normal, slightly drunk, offended bar patron. “This was between me and him, and he lost fairly.”

I turned back to the sheriff and continued, “Not to mention I don’t account that a sheriff allowing ya’ll to try and beat on me right in front of him is very lawman-like.”

[Rolling Influence to try and forestall getting the shit kicked out of me. Rolled an 11, +1 PP, +1 Jinx.]

 

Chang catches his breath, before standing in front of the door, preventing anyone else from joinging Jo an Oberon, at least for the moment. He turns and addresses the officer, and abandons all pretense of sly words and calm respect. He puts on the airs of a true Noble, and barks out his commands to the Marshal that approaches.

"Right, this is inexcusable. I am an imortant person, and you will listen to my grievance before you get lost on whatever goose chase you have been set on. I come here to have a nice drink in a quiet place, and then a catfighte erupts, and these men start fighting, and those three over there look like they are planing on shooting someone, and I Have Had Enough! Take Care of all of this!" Chang points imperiously with his finger in a wide arc, seemingly demanding the proper investgation of the entire bar of malcontents (Influence 9), and using the Opportunity to step back The Gorram Law.

 

The Blue Swallow Saloon


Jo

You strain your eyes against [9 - 17] the darkness and while you don't make out any movement, you do spot a square outline at the other side of the room; pale light creeping between the thin gap between frame and closed door. You take a tentative step toward it and something catches your ear, a sound of movement, of feet on glass, perhaps. Or gravel. It's only when you hear the dull click of a slide being released that you realise that they're not in the room with you.

They're outside.

You put it all together a half second before they start shooting [6], the automatic gunfire passing through the wooden wall like it wasn't there at all. Bottles and barrels burst, sending clouds of debris and liquid flying through the air. Splinters and pieces of broken glass rain down all around you.

It's lucky you're One Step Ahead (D6).

Free asset, as you did so well on the last roll. And a BDH die of D8. There's also two opportunities on that if you want them.


Morris, Gareth and Chang

"I dare say you may have a point," says the Sheriff to Gareth. "Though I'm still going to have to take you in. [14 - 11]" He jabs the fallen man with the point of his boot. "Get up, Russell. It's about time someone dropped you, boy."

Russell groans and rolls over but makes little attempt to get to his feet. The Sheriff looks back to Gareth and holds up a hand to halt the three men closing in on him. They hesitate and he gives them a quick nod and gestures in the direction of their downed friend.

"I think you'd best get him home, now," he says.

The Sheriff watches as they comply, the three of them lifting Russell bodily to his feet and heading in the direction of the door, the toes of his boots dragging along the ground. He looks back to you and then seems to notice Morris standing at his shoulder.

"I take it you fella's are from out of town?" he asks, looking round at the two of you. "Off planet, I dare say. I'd wager—"

It's at this point that Chang bursts into his tirade and the Sheriff considers it with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you finished?" he asks, when Chang pauses for breath, and without waiting for a response, continues. "Boy, unless you're looking to get yourself shot, I wouldn't go floatin' them lordly airs in a place like this. Now you wait there until the grownups are done talkin'." He looks back to Gareth. "Listen now, I'm still gonna— Ruttin' hell what in tarnation?"

The sound of automatic gunfire fills the air, seeming to shake the very building and the patrons of Blue Swallow Saloon break into a Mad Panic (D6).

Gareth, take a PP for the Jinx.


Aboard the Manifest Destiny

The dull wail of a klaxxon fills the air. Anyone who's been on board the ship for any length of time knows it to be the proximity alarm; indicating another ship is in the nearby vicinity. Usually it's only activated when in the black and designed to prevent collisions, but one of the bright sparks on this boat thought it might be useful to have permanently activated.

Perhaps it's nothing, just a harmless passerby. But another ship within a hundred miles in a place this remote— might be worth checking out. Unfortunately, the passages of this boat are more than a little narrow and difficult to navigate, anyone wanting to get up to the bridge doubletime is going to have to be a little fleet of foot [4].

An opportunity if anyone wants them.

 

Nick King - Aboard the Manifest Destiny

Nick sighed again, for the second time in less than a half hour. He'd say this was just "one of those days", but if he was honest with himself he'd have to admit that most days on the Destiny were "one of those days". Ahh hell, he'd bitch if it was boring, too. Either way, he could monologue later; his chair could scoot as fast as anybody on the boat could run, but it was entirely possible that he could get hung up in the hall behind someone slow due to the size of his chair and the narrowness of the hallways. Nick didn't do self pity, but he had to admit that it would be a boon to not be hoverchair-bound everything it came to a foot chase.

So he set off [8, JINX, PP] in a rush, attempting to stay as close as possible to the walls of the ship so if something happened he'd be out of the way of the others.

 

Jolene Ang - The Blue Swallow Saloon

The hairs on the back of my neck raise up as I hear the click and it's by war-honed reflex alone that I drop to the floor, dragging Oberon down with me.

"Dà xìang bào zhà shìde lā dù zi!" I yell over the sound of gunfire.

Bullets ricochet around the storeroom, thankfully missing us as I half crawl, half drag the portly thief behind a large metal barrel. Once we're both in cover I bring my rifle to bare and point it at the door. Well, what's left of the door.

(Move roll - Scored 13 from two dice. Got another D8 BDH die.)

I steady myself, trying to get over the shock of sudden combat as quickly as possible. I assure myself that the wavering tip of my gun is due to the adrenaline rush, nothing else. I try to force myself to relax and aim my gun at the door to outside.

I take a breath and release it. I don't have the advantage here; I need to get out and get going before the Sheriff turns up. Armed thugs kinda ruin that plan though. Either way, the first person to walk through that door is getting a bullet through him.

(Rolled 13 from two dice + 1 jinx.)