Gizmo
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"Asdfghjk." Kimber made an unintelligible sound into her palms, any colour that had faded from her face earlier having returned twice over. "No, that was just an example. Lots of things can be awkward. This conversation is super awkward! Nngh, alright. Alright! Fine." The phantom had to wonder how an intelligence so found of metaphor and florid language could be having so much difficulty with the concept and had a brief suspicion that Bluebird was putting her on. Ultimately, though, exasperation won out. Maybe it would help to say things out load. "So back when we met, when we had to-- When Wraith needed to get us out of the way really quickly?" It was a lot easier to focus on the mundane mechanics of that mad dash than think about where they'd been and why they'd had to run. "We asked Tarva to, like, give me a temporary body so Indira had something to grab onto so she used her magic by... Ugh, this is dumb, you were there, you know!"
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Kimber lowered her hand from her face enough to glare at the autonomic intelligence. "I know that, Birdie. I was in the Terminus and I can smell fear and death." If she never had to go back there it would still be too soon and she'd spent the entire time with the more precise scrying Nick Cimitiere had taught her clamped tightly shut. "This is a totally different thing! Muuuh, I don't know if her being flattered is better or worse. I'm just going to die all over again of embarrassment. It's the only way," she bemoaned dramatically but she regained at least enough of her composure to straighten out some. "I don't even know how to explain. Like... Furions care what other Furions think about them, right? They must or they wouldn't wear outrageous armor and calling themselves Whoever the Totally Rad and all that." Nobody had ever accused Kimber of being overly utilitarian but she was pretty sure some of the shoulder pads she'd seen by the Silver Tree had to be mainly ornamental. "And like, if you think other people think you're cool you feel good about yourself but you don't actually say that 'cause it'd be shallow? So imagine two Furions showed up to a fight in the same armor and nobody wanted to say anything and they couldn't really be mad at each other 'cause it shouldn't be a big deal but it so is and they know everybody noticed and they maybe feel a little bad but there's nowhere to direct it so it just hangs there and gets worse? That's 'awkward'. Sort of."
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The colour literally drained from Kimber's face as she processed what Bluebird had said. "What? But-- but-- Oh, marmalade on toooaaast," she wailed, expression mortified as she rotated in the air until she was parallel with the floor, knees curled up to her chest. Tarva had been on Earth for over a year and Kimber had moved into the castle atop the Dutemps build not long after and in that whole time it had never occurred to her that the sorceress almost certainly had the necromantic knowledge to detect her otherwise invisible presence. "I wasn't watching her, I was just avoiding her because it was awkward and then it was awkward because I was avoiding her and-- Oh jams, I was totally reading her terrible poetry over her shoulder last week and she didn't say anything!" The poltergeist ran her fingers across her face in despair, the ectoplasm responding with far more elasticity than actual flesh. "I'm such a creeper and not in a normal ghost way, in a creepy creeper way, aaauuugh! I'm the wooooorst!" Giving up, she retreated entirely into an airborne fetal position.
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"Just seems kinda prejudiced and stuff is all," Kimber muttered, looking away from the hologram and puffing out one cheek in a stubborn pout. "Dunno how Eve worked out the paperwork and everything but Tarva's probably at least like a Nihilor-American by now." Her own legal status was something of an open question, too, but seeing as she didn't really need to worry about income or lodgings it didn't come up much. She wouldn't have minded being able to vote, at least, but that was vita-centric legislature for you. The ghost drew herself up slightly in response to Bluebird's query, an effect somewhat undercut since she was still in a seated position. "And, y'know, sure I care about her welfare. I'm a superhero, we're supposed to care about everybody's welfare! It's like my job! And she's part of Team Blue Fox Lady Fighters now, too, so... so yeah!" She folded her arms, content that her point had been made.
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With the unsettling blur of an object sliding from the very edge of peripheral vision into full focus the translucent blue poltergeist appeared in the corner with an expression of surprise and muted guilt as though she'd been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "Jams, Birdie! Don't spook me like that!" Kimber exclaimed, the irony evidently lost on her. She'd affected a barefooted outfit of jeans and an over-sized hoodie, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail that lifted into the air on a phantom wind and looking like anyone planning to spend the day indoors without being seen by anyone else. "I know I mess with your cameras when I'm invisible, I was, um, just kinda avoiding Tarva. ...she sorta messed up again, eh?" the undead girl asked glumly, folding her legs underneath herself so that she was floating cross-legged several feet off of the floor and resting her chin in her palms. "D'you have to call her 'Daughter of Nihilor' every time? I don't think she likes that at all."
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Terrifica
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Character Name: Thistle Power Level: 10 (150PP) Trade-Offs: +5 Attack / -5 Damage Alternate Identity: Eden Espadas Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City, West End Occupation: Student Affiliations: Interceptors Family: Erik Espadas (Jack of all Blades, father), Minerva Espadas (Willow, mother), Talya Espadas (Bombshell, mother), Mia Espadas (Cherry Bomb, sister), Emily Espadas (Shrapnel, sister), Terry Espadas (Hemlock, brother) Description: Age: 20 (circa 2032; DoB: May 21, 2012) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Latina/'Dryad' Height: 5'9" Weight: 140 lbs Eyes: Dark Green Hair: Light Brown Abilities: 4 + 6 + 8 + 2 + 2 + 6 = 28PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 10 + 8 = 28PP Initiative: +3 Attack: +5 Base, +9 Melee, +15 Swords Grapple: +11 Defense: +10 (+4 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -10/-5/-2 Saving Throws: 1 + 7 + 7 = 15PP Toughness: +10 (+4 Con, +6 Protection; Impervious 0/10) Fortitude: +5 (+4 Con, +1) Reflex: +10 (+3 Dex, +7) Will: +8 (+1 Wis, +7) Skills: 32R = 8PP Acrobatics 12 (+15) Bluff 3 (+6/+10) Diplomacy 0 (+3/+7) Gather Information 2 (+5) Knowledge [streetwise] 4 (+5) Language 1 (English [Native], Spanish) Notice 10 (+11) Feats: 19PP Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus (Melee) 4 Attack Specialization (Swords) 3 Attractive Dodge Focus 6 Evasion Improved Critical (Swords) 1 [2] Takedown Attack Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Powers: 20 + 11 + 21 = 52PP Damage 3 (Extras: Linked [+0], Penetrating 5; Feats: Improved Critical, Mighty) + Drain Toughness 5 (Extras: Affects Objects, Linked [+0]) [10+10=20PP] (Cosmic Energy Sword) Guardian Physiology 2 (10PP Container [Passive, Permanent]; Feats: Innate) [11PP] Leaping 2 (x5) [2PP] Immunity 3 (Aging, Disease, Poison) [3PP] Speed 1 (10MPH) [1PP] Super-Senses 4 (Extended Auditory [x10], Extended Visual [x10], Low-Light Vision, Ultra-Hearing) [4PP] Protection 6 (Extras: Duration [sustained, +0]) + Impervious 10 (Extras: Reflective; Flaws: Limited [Energy]) [6+15=21PP] (Cosmic Energy Swords) DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC17 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Cosmic Energy Sword Touch DC15 Fortitude (Staged) Drain Toughness DC20 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Totals: Abilities (28) + Combat (28) + Saving Throws (15) + Skills (8) + Feats (19) + Powers (52) - Drawbacks (0) = 150/150 Power Points
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Character Name: Osla Jónsdóttir Power Level: 10 (150PP) Trade-Offs: +4 Attack / -4 Damage, +2 Defence / -2 Toughness Alternate Identity: Identity: Public in Asgard Birthplace: Valhalla Occupation: Valkyrie Affiliations: Aesir, Valkyries, Loki (grudgingly) Family: John Fraser (Arrowhawk, father), Vivian Kriger (Valkyrie, mother, deceased) Description: Age: Subjective Apparent Age: 18 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Scandinavian/Scot (Caucasian) Height: 6'0" Weight: 175 lbs Eyes: Blue-Grey Hair: Straw Blonde When Vivian Kriger was chosen to be the champion of Odin and gifted with powerful artifacts patterned after the weapons and armour of Thor himself her future seemed bright. Not all tales of heroism end happily, however. Though guaranteed a place in the Norse afterlife Kriger was an inconvenient embarrassment to the Allfather, one which only became more troublesome when the Aesir realized that she was with child, the result of her passionate tryst with John Fraser, the archer Arrowhawk. When that child, given the name Osla, came of age in that timeless kingdom she was given a place among the Valkyrie but despite her phenomenal skill her mortal heritage placed her at a disadvantage and made her the target of ridicule. Proud and determined to redeem her mother's reputation the young warrior was still skeptical when a visiting god of another pantheon suggested a way to prove her mettle on Midgard. Still, Set introduced her to Loki and the God of Mischief, convinced of the entertainment potential in aiding the underdog archer, bestowed upon her raiment to replace what had been confiscated from her mother. Heeding the call to defend the innocent from Typhon, Father of All Monsters, Osla Jónsdóttir set off across the Bifröst for the mortal realm and a surprising reunion... Abilities: 8 + 10 + 8 + 2 + 4 + 6 = 38PP Strength: 18 (+4) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24PP Initiative: +5 Attack: +6 Base, +10 Ranged, +10 Unarmed, +14 Bow Grapple: +18 Defense: +12 (+6 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4/-2 Saving Throws: 2 + 5 + 6 = 13PP Toughness: +8 (+4 Con, +4 Protection) Fortitude: +6 (+4 Con, +2) Reflex: +10 (+5 Dex, +5) Will: +8 (+2 Wis, +6) Skills: 40R = 10PP Acrobatics 10 (+15) Bluff 0 (+3/+11) Diplomacy 0 (+3/+11) Intimidate 7 (+10) Knowledge [Theology and Philosophy] 4 (+5) Language 1 (Old Norse [Native], English) Notice 8 (+10) Perform (Fiddle) 2 (+5) Sense Motive 3 (+5) Stealth 5 (+10) Feats: 20PP Attack Focus (Ranged) 4 Attack Specialization (Bow) 2 Attack Specialization (Unarmed) 2 Attractive 2 Dodge Focus 6 Evasion Fearless Move-By Action Startle Powers: 2 + 26 + 11 + 3 + 3 = 45PP Archery Supremacy 1 (Probability Control; Flaws: Limited 2 [Archery]) [2PP] (Training) Device 6 (30PP Container; Flaws: Hard to Lose; Feats: Indestructible, Restricted [Only 'Worthy']) [26PP] (Trickster's Raiment) Gloves of Fenrir Damage 2 (Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2, Incurable, Mighty) [6PP] Super-Strength 4 (Heavy Load: 1200 lbs) [8PP]Belt of Jörmungandr Protection 4 [4PP] Concealment 8 (All Auditory, Olfactory and Visual; Flaws: Blending, Passive) [4PP] Boots of Sleipnir Leaping 2 (x5) [2PP] Speed 5 (250MPH) [5PP] Super-Movement 1 (Water Walking; Flaws: Limited [While Running]) [1PP] Device 4 (20PP Container; Flaws: Easy to Lose; Feats: Indestructible, Restricted [Only 'Worthy']) [11PP] (Orheidir, Magic Bow) Damage 2 (Extras: Ranged; Feats: Improved Critical 2, Mighty 4, Precise, Variable Descriptor 2 [Any Magic]) [13PP]Super-Movement 1 (Dimensional Movement [Asgard]) [2PP] Immunity 3 (Aging, Disease, Poison) [3PP] (Valkyrie) Super-Senses 3 (Divine Awareness [Mental], Extended Vision 2 [x100]) [3PP] (Valkyrie) DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC21 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Orheidir Ranged DC21 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Totals: Abilities (38) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (13) + Skills (10) + Feats (20) + Powers (45) - Drawbacks (0) = 150/150 Power Points
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Whatever Kimber had been expecting Tarva to do that certainly hadn't been it! The poltergeist's back and shoulders went rigid with shock as the sorceress was abruptly in her personal space, physically pressed against her. The slick, sloshing feeling of the shadow magics forcing itself into her immaterial form was perverse in a way that had a dim voice in the back of her head searching momentarily for the word 'nauseous', a sensation she normally had little need to describe. Part of her, though, was still a young woman who couldn't recall ever having been kissed and who had gone without real human contact for a very, very long time and to her immediate and profound embarrassment she realized that she had reflexively parted her lips slightly. As soon as Tarva's grip loosened Ghost Girl jerked away, taking a few shaky steps backward, having trouble finding her balance on legs formed of slick, black shadows. She tried to articulate something about needing to hurry on their way but the words came out as a surprised, "Um! Uh!" Despite the uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling of an unpleasant chill throughout her temporary body she was still left to wonder how obvious it was that she was blushing furiously.
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The troopers exchanged looks with each other as the commanders introduced themselves, some professionally taciturn, some openly sneering and challenging, some with poorly concealed terror. The four squad leaders certainly each had their own inimitable style but they'd all managed to make quite the first impression. A muscular Zultasian in Wander's group who looked young enough to still think he had something to prove started out unbuckle his straps to stand up and say something but a forceful hand on the shoulder from the much older and more heavily scarred Broan seated next to him but a stop to that. The latter instead gave the Terran a frankly appraising look, squinting one of her eyes, and asked in a rumbling bass, "What's a 'zombie'?" Eclipse's newly appointed second in command did as she was asked and introduced the grey skinned cyborg around, flustered to admit that she hadn't gotten most of her squadmates' names yet herself. The Za'ak seated at the end of far end of the dozen soldiers was paying more attention to Roulette's little speech than his own commander, a scowl deepening over his calloused teal features. "Somebody needs to teach that kark-for-brains that this isn't a frelling joke," he growled angrily, more than loudly enough to be heard by everyone in both squads. The transport rocked again as it his another patch of atmospheric turbulence, struggling to compensate for Garron-9's violent wind storms. The pilot, a bald Lor in a uniform that would have once communicated his naval rank but now mostly communicated how badly he needed a replacement uniform called over his shoulder to Corona, the closest of the commanders to the cockpit. "Five ticks to the drop point but this mess is playing havoc with the sensors, can't tell if it's clear or not. You want some fancypants tactical maneuvers here or what?" His works were somewhat muddled by whatever he was chewing on, something with a loud crunch and a faint ozone smell of simulated flavouring.
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Inside the war room the assembled leaders were taken equally off guard by the sudden alarm but with every ounce of tactical data streaming directly to the monitors and holo displays in the room they remained confused for a far shorter interval. "The proximity alerts!" Senator Th'emme said with a sharp intake of breath, her back instinctively straightening as she looked to the aide closest to readouts for the sensors seeded throughout the asteroid belt. Although the Coalition was only using a few of the mining facilities left behind nothing could get anywhere near their hidden base undetected. "A Communion fleet?" "No, Dame Th'emme," the aide responded quickly, shaking his head and pursing his lips as he focused on the information in front of him. "We would have caught that sooner. Contact is small and approaching rapidly. A fighter--? No! Smaller, a single sentient, self propelled." The analysts slick yellow hide began to tint blue in alarm. "They're heading right for us!"
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As Rock squinted down at a hand of cards held delicately between his over-sized thumb and forefinger, Chlo'zel began to realize that for a being who had so much difficulty communicating in the usual manner the stoney titan had a terrible poker face. The line of smaller rocks that made up his brow shot up as he looked at the card he'd just drawn from the deck lying on the floor between them, then back down as he overcompensated for the obvious tell. He looked sideways at the Tempestian then back down at his hand before casually asking, "Rock...?" Chlo'zel's response was interrupted by a blaring horn that echoed down the massive hallway, bouncing off of metal bulkheads as its pitch wailed up and down. For several surprised beats the soldiers and support staff going about their business stopped dead in their tracks, exchanging looks and wondering if their peers knew what was going on before training kicked in and they began sprinting to their emergency stations. For his part Rock lumbered to his feet with the modicum of grace he could muster and squared his massive shoulders. "Rock!"
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As the voice shouted over the speakers, Ghost Girl covered her mouth with both hands, eyes wide. "Oh! Oh! It's a real lady and...!" The phantom balled up her fists at her shoulders with her arms crossed across herself and swallowed, her immaterial throat feeling thick regardless of its actual mass. "I don't like this place. I don't like it at all. Just this one time I think we need to use fire, lots and lots until nothing's left. It's just too terrible otherwise." Shaking very slightly as she set her jaw resolutely, she nodded to the sorceress. "Do whatever you need to do, Tarva. You've helped us so far, I'll trust you." Using dark magic to get a temporary body sounded like the sort of thing that had some pretty steep downsides based on everything Daniel Storm had taught her but the alternatives seemed a whole lot worse.
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Kimber's cheery laughter was like bright bells as Indira translated the conversation for her. <"It sure gives me a lot to worry about! Should probably try to keep 'already dead' off of everybody else's resumes if we can help it, though."> There was no way of knowing for sure what sort of conditions were needed to make alien ghosts, after all! They probably also didn't want to die, which was really the bigger issue when she thought about it for a moment. <"Gosh, though, I don't think I ever really appreciated how rad it was that you learned some Earth languages. I should have been picking so space talk up from you this whole time! I feel like such a tourist! Like... an American tourist, I mean. I thought the Grue were for sure bad guys but Gur'ul seems neat! Thanks again for the ride, Gur'ul!"> The poltergeist waved to their pilot with a wide grin, figuring he would at least catch the gist, having recognized his name. Unnecessarily, she lowered her voice to a whisper as she added, <"D'you think it would be super rude to ask what all these guys' deal is? The upside down guy purrs!">
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"Neeerds," Set decreed airily, having managed to slip away from the distracted Arrowhawk while no one was watching and abruptly appearing to rest an elbow on Sun Walker's shoulder. "So, hark: yon impromptu archer convention may take some time, so consider yourselves free to return from whence you came under your own power if able. Standard divine favour speech, boon or blessing to be returned at the time of your choosing, so on, so forth." The godling waved his unoccupied hand in a circle that suggested an oft repeated litany he couldn't entirely be bothered to recite. "Truly good work, one and all, I would be glad to--" "Set!" At the irritated shout the Heliopolian jumped and all but hid behind Miras before turning to look at the straw-blonde valkyrie, glaring from where she stood across the sands pointing at Arrowhawk. "Did thy reckless haste lead to my father's death?!" "Nay!" Set protested reflexively before immediately following with, "Mayhaps! A bit! Barely, though! Lasting neurological damage ought to be practically unnoticeable, I assume!"
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Jill noted the exposed electronics in Miss Americana's forearm with perhaps less interest than she might have under other circumstances, the bulk of her attention still on maintaining the force field over the dome. It made sense, she supposed; Mara had mentioned with some grudging admiration that her rival - if that was even really the word - specialized in bleeding edge prosthesis. The medic didn't comment over the open comm channel, unsure if anyone else was close enough to have noticed. Everyone knew how image-conscious the CEO was and if she wasn't inclined to make her replacement limb or limbs public knowledge then Jill certainly wasn't going to take the choice out of her hands, especially not as a result of saving her bacon. Instead she gave Miss Americana a significant look from behind the faceplate of her suit and said, "S'alright, yeah. If you can help with the heavy lifting I can make sure the lattice stays in solid shape." With a grunt, Jack wobbled for a moment as he regained his footing. "Sure hurts a lot for winning. I guess losing doesn't hurt at all, haa-ow, okay, no laughing right now." Breathing through his nose for a few seconds, he marshaled his wits and jogged off toward the dome as Steve had suggested. "We're all big time space heroes now, folks, it'll make a lousy story if we die now! Evacuation time, let's go!"
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There were several beats of contemplative silence as the group let Praetorian Val-Ren's words sink in. There had been significant misgivings about the sudden arrival of the obviously formidable Praetorians and more than one of the Coalition leaders had argued against including Amara in their previous meetings but the viewpoint of someone with no previous loyalty to any faction from living memory had proven invaluable. "...it's a bold plan, anyway," Magistar Rull mused eventually, breaking the lull and folding his hands in front of him so that the folds of his robes met together. "No one can say it isn't bold." "I don't like bold," Minister Ch'rrr argued with a trill of outright petulance that suggested he could see well enough that the group had arrived at a decision whether he liked it or not. Leathery nose flaps rippled as he let out a long breath, shifting from foot to foot and giving Sharl a sidelong look. "Of course you don't," the Magistar and Senator Th'emme said in unison, exchanging a horrified look at having found themselves in agreement for once. The Grue made several throat clearing sounds which objectively could not have served any biological purpose before pushing forward. "Very well then, Citizen Tulink. Our faith and our fates lie with you, it seems."
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Jack of all Blades / Jill O'Cure >May Your Days Be Merry and Bright (2) >Incursion: That's Amore (3) Midnight >Incursion: Drop The Needle (6) Ghost Girl >Incursion: Uploaded to the Cloud (1) Set / Sekhmet >Teen Romance Superhero Drama (4) >Incursion: God Squad (5) GM / NPC >Midnight Dynasty (5) >Incursion: Blood in the Water (3) >Incursion: Backwater (2) >Incursion: Science Team Go! (2) >Incursion: God Squad (5) >Incursion: Black Sheep (5) All rollover and the month's Ref point can go to Rock since everyone else will be maxed out!
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Computronium Mound Opposed Computers Check: 1d20+12 16 The mound's programming is 'pinned' again, meaning it cannot create new drones this round! Making progress now! 26 - Asad - Uninjured, 3HP 24 - Citizen - Injured x2, 0HP > 19 - Terrifica - Bruised x1, 1HP 17 - Maxima - Uninjured, Pending Fatigue, 2HP 14 - Hronos - Disabled, Dazed, Distracted, 0HP 8 - Compu-Jackals with Wings and Penetrating Claws x2 - Uninjured
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With a low growl Sekhmet scanned the crowd for a moment, luminous eyes flicking back and forth in the murky dark, before dropping to all fours in the same, fluid movement that transformed her from statuesque woman to lithe lioness. Her nostrils flared and her ears twitched as she sought out a trail to distinguish Madame Marvelous from the throngs of confused and frightened dancers. "Rrrrowr, coward!" Her words were almost lost in the abrupt gale wind which gathered up the shorted out equipment Citizen had disconnected from power and tossed unceremoniously to the far corner of the club, speakers and monitors making harsh thuds and brittle screeches as they tumbled into each other. Simultaneously the temperature inside the club rose, the chill of cold sprinkler water and damp clothes replaced with the dry heat of midsummer noon. The civilians were safe, there wasn't any reason they couldn't be made more comfortable as well. "Really now. Learn a new hymn, oh willfully ignorant ideologue!" Set voice called with an exasperated sigh from somewhere in the shadows to Sharl's left. "Surely we can dispose of this talentless purveyor of cheap shock value without resuming our dispute over the divine!"
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Jill O'Cure Notice check: 1d20+15 26 Knowledge (Life Sciences) check: 1d20+15 31 Life Sciences check on account of knowing that arms don't work like that?
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"Let's put it this way," Jill's reply came over the comm line in a strained grunt, the usual note of sardonic amusement washed out entirely, "whatever the plan is, assume it needs to go into effect right the @#$% now. Because it kinda does." The dust from the explosion settled enough to reveal the medic crouching on one knee, her right hand outstretched and wreathed in brilliant blue light while the left was clamped tightly over her opposite shoulder. The force field over the broken dome was holding for the time being but she could already feel the sweat beading on her forehead growing slowly cooler. Her brother was in arguably even worse shape, lying unmoving on the lunar surface with his eyes closed tightly. "Ow..." he managed by way of a status report, the syllable escaping as more of a cough than a coherent statement. "Nnh. Anybody get th' license plate of th' moon truck...?" He was dimly aware of his words slurring even as a familiar pain told him that at least one of his ribs was at best bruised, most likely broken. He shoved his body's protests to the back of his mind; nothing new and they still had work to do before he could afford to stay down. "Steve, gimme a hand up, yeah?"
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"Rooock."
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Rock nodded, pleased Chlo'zel had understood his meaning even if it had taken a few tries. It had been less work than he usually had to go through to communicate with the average, wordier sentient, really. "Rooock," he elaborated dryly, pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the door to the war room and rolling the twin spots of red hot magma that served as his eyes. There wasn't much else for him to do but wait. He'd already checked to see if anyone had needed help moving cargo around but trust among the various elements of the Coalition wasn't at a point where anyone was eager to let a mercenary near anything valuable. Unlike most of the fighters present he didn't get any real benefit from physical conditioning and the meager training facilities set up closer to the asteroid's surface weren't set up to handle his particular mix of strength and bulk. Sticking around the war room had seemed like the best way to find out the moment anything was decided but so far the notion hadn't paid off. Rummaging about in the drag green satchel hanging at his hip, the rocky giant produced a deck of Zultasian playing cards, somewhat comically undersized in his big hands, and held them up for Chlo'zel to see. "Rock?"
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"Indeed, they're a heroically inspiring little isolate," Th'emme sighed impatiently, folding her arms. She'd known this was going to be an issue. Terra and her people simply weren't terribly popular in the civilized galaxy and some of her fellow leaders were all to happy to use that as a talking point. Any goodwill Terrans had in the Republic had been largely squandered by the ravings of origin conspiracy theorists and most accounts from the Khanate painted them as dangerous savages. After numerous embarrassingly failed invasion attempts it was anyone's guess how the Grue felt about the planet. "I realize not all of us will recall Daedalus... fondly, but the fact remains that he and his people have delayed the world-killer at the edge of their system for months now, effectively taking a powerful piece off of the board." "Pheh, my understanding was that the battle station's presence there was a mere diversionary tactic," Magistar Rull cut in, the Grue Arcane making a dismissive gesture that caused the fabric of his heavy robes to flap loudly. "A ruse which the Terran 'Freedom League' fell for easily." The senator hadn't made any attempt to hide her dislike for the Grue in general and a personal distaste for Rull during the meeting but for now she held back another round of insults. "I'm glad to hear the Magister finally got around to reading that stale intelligence." More or less, anyway. "As Citizen Tulink alluded to, the earnest attack on Terra was summarily rebuffed and in the time since the world-killer has made the seriousness of its threat clear. We cannot afford to wait until that situation is resolved." She didn't have to say aloud what most of the room was thinking: Terra's champions might hold off the battle station for a time but ultimately it would destroy their world and move on to other targets unless the incursion could be stopped first. Th'emme paused to let that implication sink in for a moment before adding in a softer voice, "My own daughter was with Citizen Tulink on Lor-Van when he undid the Communion's sabotage of our automated traffic systems. Without his intervention neither she nor many more of our survivors would have made it off-world. Let me be clear: he has my unequivocal support in this."
