Monday, 14 March 2016

Even bad guys have a bad feeling about this

On the way to Bespin, Kon felt woozy. She just about managed to say as much to Nole (who smelled something funny) before they both passed out. Fortunately, Doc got his rebreather on in time - Sarge not so much - so that he and Declan the engineer could figure out what was wrong. Turns out the Nabooan flowers in Sarge's cabin were some sort of pollen factories and that was polluting the air - air that was already in short supply because we had a few more people on board than we normally would.

All flowers, including the ones adorning the cockpit, were put in the cargo hold, pollen sucked in, air sucked out ... airlock opened. People started coming to, and in Kon's case, when she realised how bare the cockpit looked and her flowers were outside the window ... she was not a happy bunny.

On Bespin the plan was to have Kon pose as a gas buyer, but that turned into a scheme to import plants to Bespin in order to fund the Rebellion. Always good to have contingency plans!

When we got back to the ship, because things were starting to feel rather shifty in Cloud City, the ship wouldn't start. Apparently the fuel had been siphoned off and the pump had been enthusiastically disabled. In fact, power went off on the platform. There was an encounter with a translation droid (the evil silver ones, not the nice golden ones like C-3PO) and it was found that the problem was with the city's central core. Let's go be heroes and save the day, it's great PR for the New Alliance!

Yeah, except there was a Purge Trooper about (BUT NOT FOR LONG!), and when we got to the core, there were more of them and they were shooting at Stormtroopers and Bespin security guards. One firefight later and the Purge Troopers were pining for the fjords, Sarge was blinded and Doc shot in the back trying to help. Doc got better, Sarge will have to work more on his Third Eye or something like that, yadda yadda, Force powers.

Also: the reason for the core acting weird is because they've recently installed a droid brain to run the place, and they must have got the brain from some guy called Abbe Normal ...

Courtesy of Monday 7 March 2016's Fantasy Flight Star Wars roleplaying session at Chimera.

Star Wars Roleplaying Game

“I’m not a petty man.”
“Really? I’ve known you for a while now ...”
“Vindictive, yes. Petty, no.”

“Suicide by wolf was his own fault for being awake.”
“Isn’t that just victim blaming?”

“Everyone’s here before me.”
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Unsettling, more like.”

“By the way, this is the same systems argument that you heard last time you walked past.”

“I didn’t realise I had so many problems with it until I started talking about it.”

GM: “You could be multi-millionaires if you sold the Spice.”
Player: “We’d also be massively dead!”

“We’ve got an assassin droid to cover our backs, right? – You’re supposed to say yes now.”

(singing) “Noboooody knows the trouble I’ve seen. Noboooody knows but NG.”

“The engineer is under the space hood, checking the space oil levels. Because we’re in space.”

Player: “It COULD have been Midi-chlorians is all I’m saying.”
GM: “If anyone wants to kill [Player] in real life, I’ll give you a hundred XP.”

Declan: “I’ll need to bring us out of hyperspace.”
Doc: “Is that a good idea?”
Declan: “It’s that or crashing into a gravity well.”

“Did the ship basically just jiz in space?”

Player: “Does he wake up before or after me?”
GM: “After.”
Player: “That’s what red dice gives you, isn’t it?”

Sarge (to Kon): “As a well-travelled space-Twi’lek ... those plants aren’t native to outer space, are they?”

Kon (increasingly devastated): “Why are my cockpit flowers floating by the window? I had that one for six years. This is the fourth ship it’s been on.”

“So much back-pedalling. It’s just like the Tory government.”
“Or a random UKIP rally.”

“Trump just keeps going and going and going, like a Duracell bunny of lies.”

GM: “I’m never rolling this complication again. It takes an entire session of side-tracking.”

NG: “I’m an assassin droid who is no longer an assassin ... or am I?”

Doc: “I have to compliment you on all the times you’ve made us not fly into bulkheads.”
Kon: “You’re not supposed to fly into bulkheads.”
Doc: “That’s what I thought.”

Nole (to Kon): “There, there ...”
GM: “Is Nole using the gun to rub gently on her back while he says that?”
Player: “Yes. Well, it calms HIM down ...”

“Does it sound like he’s gonna get us shot? We haven’t been shot.”

(after explaining what the gas Bespin exports is used for, namely GUNS)
GM: “The whole planet is essentially a big gun.”
Nole: “I’ll be in my bunk.”

“Don’t apply science to fiction!”
“You might get science fiction and no one wants that!”

“This is Only Fools and Horses level of planning!”
Only Fools and Starships.”

“Excuse me, could I buy some Bespin gas, please?”

“No one seems to be buying in to our story.”
“Maybe if we didn’t go around asking for Bespin gas, considering that’s not what it’s called.”

GM: “You wish you were in a tavern right now. Tavern? What is this, D&D? A cantina.”

“Let’s pretend we’re no longer the guys who use access codes.”

“I have a lot of repressed anger toward droids.”

Doc: “Can you repair it?”
Sarge: “No.”
Doc: “Why?”
Sarge: “TECHNICAL REASONS.”

GM: “I’m always up for bullshit technobabble.”

Player: “Even I have a bad feeling about this.”
GM: “BAD GUYS have a bad feeling about this!”

“If the central core fails, we’re all going to fall out of the sky.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...”

“We’re gonna save the core!”
“All right. I always wanted to die on Bespin.”

“There’s just one murderer in this party and for once it’s not me!”

“We ARE the main characters! Doc’s got the selfies to prove it!”

“You’re about 30 years too early, mate. Get back in the TARDIS and fuck off.”

Player 1: “I like Declan.”
Player 2: “Don’t say that; he’s gonna die now!”
Player 3: “No, he’s not talked about his family yet.”
Player 2: “True. We still have some time.”

(to GM) “I like how you say they have superficial serious wounds.”

Nole: “I don’t trust nuthin’ that doesn’t take a piss occasionally.”

“If it’s a legitimate dice kill, I’m okay with that.”
“Yeah, but we’re not.”

“Why do you always leave us so soon?”

GM: “Sarge isn’t looking. – Too soon?”

“He’s got Arya Stark Syndrome, don’t worry about it.”

“Or just do the old Mulligan thing.”
“Show a PowerPoint presentation? Dress in drag?”

“No one hurts our Sarge! That’s OUR job!”

“But he WANTS to be blind!”
“Yeah, but I’m the medic!”

GM: “There isn’t a severity rating for dead? What kind of a system IS this?!”

Sarge: “When I learn Movement, I’m gonna throw you out of an airlock with the Force.”

GM: “Something heavy falls on you.”
Player: “It smells like tuna.”

“I check on the fish as well.”
“Is it done yet?”
“Five more minutes. I’ll turn it over.”

“Core must be saved, otherwise place goes boom!”

Who will live? Who will die? Will we save the core or will Bespin go boom? Find out in the next thrilling episode!

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