The Sentinel Gate Affair, Episode II: A Bounty on the Mutant

     A very short time ago we watched as Dame Astrid Shaam arrived on Moab III in The Sentinel Gate Affair, Episode I: Rockabye Baby. What, you say? That was fully a year ago? Nonsense! The vagaries of trans-temporal and hyper-dimensional communications might have scrambled the signals, but Dame Astrid arrived but the day before yesterday local time.

. . . . .

     With the dawning light the scene slowly fades in on the mysterious Gordon Frei; tall, gaunt, space pale, completely bald, and wearing a battered orange enviro-suit.

     As he looked onto the waking streets of Logansport he realized that he needed to find shelter and fast. The hunters would almost certainly be on his scent by now. Talking to the locals would be a risk, but perhaps it was unavoidable. He'd need information. And food, really. Food first. Frei spotted a rice seller walking down the street. She seemed a likely target.

     Later that very night Blake Walker moseyed up to the bar next to Jackie Chu.

     "Evening, Jackie. I have news. Seems Colorado has a job for us."

     "Oh?" replied Jackie, casually interested. "Is this a rush job?" Jackie nursed his drink, a local sort of fire water called bunker charlie that both looked and smelled like waste oil, as he pondered the news.

     "First thing in the morning. There's a bounty out on a spacer named Gordon Frei." He passed Blake a flimsy with a picture and some official looking copy. "Stan smuggled the lady a dupe and she wants us to find him before someone renames him Gordon Verhaftung."

     "What?" said Jackie confused.

     "Bad joke. Frei means free. We need to find him before he becomes Gordon Arrested." At this Blake paused a moment. "Or dead."

     "Well, I have to abandon this fine aperitif, but I suppose I should hurry this process along and find my rack before  it gets any later. Sounds like we have an early morning."

     "Indeed," said Blake.

     "I'll round up the gang. Meet us at half to six by the spaceport. We'll head in from there. Hopefully someone will have a real lead. More than this mimeo you've got here, anyway."

. . . . .

     The next morning dawned cool and grey. The heat of the midday sun would clear the street of witnesses as surely as a rare rainstorm would wash away tracks out by the gibsonite mines. As the gang arrived in town and surveyed the drag it looked like it was going to be a long morning.

     "Well folks," Jackie said. "Let's fan out. There's a lot of ground to cover. But be careful. I'm not really quite sure who this bounty hunter is."

     "Assuming there's only one," said Shorty McMasters, ever the optimist.

. . . . .

      At this point please allow me, your narrator, to briefly interrupt. This is, after all, a play of more than one sort, so I should give some props to those as acted it. The first run went to the fine folks of Big Muddy. Terry was so kind as to play the gang and Steve handled the bounty hunters. (Wait, what?) In the second game my friend Joe played the protagonists and I took over villains and bystanders alike. (Isn't everyone a villain in a bustling hive of scum and . . . well . . . villagers? Yeah, never mind. Dumb and rather dated joke.)
     This narrative follows the sequence of events in the second performance, but the first was in many key ways similar. (Though it needn't have been.) So if you think you might want a role in this performance or one similar to it in the next week or so then you might wait to give this a read. The details and even the ending can change. Reading won't truly spoil the game.  But the story might be funnier after.

. . . . .

     Meanwhile, back in Longansport . . .

     No sooner had the gang set to asking around than one of the local friendlies decided to brush Shorty and Lorita back a bit with some high speed harm.

     "You okay dear?" Lorita asked as she helped Shorty to his feet.

     The dwarf thought a moment and replied "Nothing harmed but my ego."

     "Good. That might be the only part of you no one has managed to break yet." Lorita paused a moment. "I sure hope Kitty's having more luck."

     While the rest of the gang made their way along the gibsonite glory of the drag Kitty kicked up dust on the edge of town. She was off to talk to old Maxim Wilder.

     "Hey Max. Any news?" she asked as she reached down to gently pat his constant companion, the great wolf Stella.

     "Nothing that I've heard," he replied.

     Meanwhile Musetta sidled her way around the new peace bot to talk to a pair of visiting actors.

     "So what brings you folks to our town?" she asked.

     The first elf replied "We're here to entertain . . ."

     ". . . and educate," the second finished in turn.

     Musetta pressed on. "What sort of show will you have?"

     "Oh, it will be comic . . ."

     ". . . and tragic," the two continued, in the same manner as before. Each finishing the other's sentences as though they were a single entity.

     The shorter more masculine elf began brightly "We specialize in the great myths of creation . . ."

     ". . . and destruction," finished the taller and more feminine elf quietly.

     Musetta paused for a moment, not quite sure how to continue. "You look hungry. Are you hungry?" she asked suddenly.

     "Why . . ."

     ". . . yes," they said in sequence.

     Feeling sheepish Musetta reached into her pocket. "Here, let me offer you this cake. It's not much, but it's a hot day and you've a lot of work. My friend van Erikson made it. It's a honey cake. His own recipe."

     "Thank you," said the tall elf, apparently speaking for both of them as she divided the cake and passed half to her partner.

     "Did you drop in to the space port? Did you happen to run into a spacer in an orange vac suit?" Musetta asked gamely. "He's an old friend of mine and I'm expecting him."

     "Odd that you should say that," the taller elf said.

     "You aren't the only friend expecting a spacer in an orange suit," the shorter elf continued.

     "And no. We haven't seen him."

     "But you have a much more generous aura than the last fellow, even if you are lying," said the shorter elf again.

     "We bought an orange glove from the rice seller this morning," said the tall elf.

     "Talk to her," commanded the short elf.

     "I will," said Musetta. "And I'm sorry."

     "About lying?" asked the short elf?

     "Don't be," said the tall elf. "It's part of the job."

     With that Musetta wandered off to find Jackie.

     Talking with the peregrine peddler was easier. She came past directly, a case of hot steamed rice balancing out a container of quite delicious smelling pork.

     "Yes, I sold him some food in trade for the glove," she said. "I'm not quite sure where he ended up, but when I last saw him he was talking to the nun down at the temple. Talk to her. She might know more."

     Jackie contemplated this bit of advice as a group of spacers and adventurers slowly filed past towards the port.

     Jackie began to quietly issue directions for the rest of the gang to assemble over by the temple when Kitty tapped out a brief coded reply that asked him to wait a moment.

     "Sorry about that," she said. "I had to sneak past the same bunch of greenies that held me hostage last season after the business out at the Graceful Ghost. Fortunately, they're all busy listening to a bagpiper . . . and boy is he loud."

     "Oh! Is that where that's coming from," Jackie said.

     "You can hear that?" she asked.

     "Oh yeah."

     "Wow. We've got to be a half a klick, away," she said surprised.

     "Don't worry about it. Can you get to the temple?" he asked.

     "Sure. I'm almost there," she said. "I think it's just past this machine shop. Let me head over there quiet like."

     Quicker than you can give out free drinks at a mining camp the gang coalesced around Jackie over by the temple. Unfortunately, they weren't entirely alone.

     "Hey Kitty, you think you can work your way behind that mandroid?" he asked.

     "Sure thing," she replied. "I'm going off the voice channel. If you need me to drop him click twice on the e-channel. Three clicks and I'll break off and go to voice soonest."

     "Got it," he said.

     Since it was getting on into the late morning, the town slowly started to clear out.

     "Well, that should make things a little easier," thought Jackie, as the gang slipped into the temple with the saffron robed nun. Upon learning that they worked with Rex-Avis the nun was only too happy to introduce Gordon.

     "He'll need escort someplace safe," she said.

     "And how are we supposed to do that?" asked Harry, as he stepped through the door.

     Kara Mason thought a moment. "Do you think you could disguise him?"

     "That might work," the nun replied.

     And soon an orange suited spacer . . .

. . . emerged as a green robed priest.

     (Oh, for a muse of fire! Imaginations please. They're still inside, but our crude platform must suffice as the whole of France. Or Moab III, anyway. And the scenerers do good work, but on a limited budget. And they are but one, so corners are sometimes cut. Anyway . . . )

     "A last request," Erikson began. "Would you mind accompanying us? Our pursuers might be more loathe to strike a woman of the cloth."

     The nun pondered a moment and then nodded her assent. "Very good. Would you have me lead the way then?"

     "If you would be so kind," he replied.

     "Follow me," she said. And one after another the little squadron filed out of the shrine in tight formation.

     Kitty held her position behind the metal man, but almost as soon as the gang came into sight he grew restless. It wasn't long before he moved and she got her two clicks. The coast was clear. The cops were looking the other way, about like they usually did. Kitty drew her needler hoping there was enough meat left in her target for the agent to paralyze him at least temporarily. And then . . . 

     Behind her a large lizard darted under a tractor, knocking over an empty oil can. The racket was deafening in the sudden quiet. Why did the piper down the block choose that moment for a break? Kitty jabbed at the mandroid, but he'd already begun to spin and her shot glanced off his bulky jacket. His hand, however, connected squarely with her jaw and she lurched back stunned.

     Blake and Jackie, seeing the miscue, quickly rushed to her aid. The bounty hunter, Tommy Takara registered on Koutosopolis Two, coreward beyond the Tartarus Gate as Blake would later learn, was tough with his integrated circuits and finely tuned muscles, but he was no match for the three of them together. He took a few jabs from Jackie, but Blake worked around behind him and he went down. And the phalanx of desert rats worked slowly down the drag towards the spaceport and freedom, however temporary.

     As Blake and Jackie checked on Kitty the steaming, sparking lump began to stir. Musetta was watching the whole enterprise from a perch in an upper story window overlooking the scene. The noise would attract trouble, but there was no choice. She took her shot. Just as the human bulldozer tripped. Her shot passed harmlessly above him.

     His return fire was little more effective, but the sounds found a mark, even as the bolts and bullets did not. Jackie, Blake, and Kitty spun in alarm. With his back to them as he to fired on Musetta the mandroid stood no chance at all. The three of them struck as one and he fell again. They scuttled past quickly as the constable finally turned and began walking towards the manlike thing lying prone on the pavement.

     Parade like the whole of the Lace Rock gang moved. But so too did a new audience, awoken to the festivities by the magical sounds of explosions.

     To an orc a good firefight is the Fourth of July wrapped in Tet and chased with an earthy red Bastille Day. Funfire. There's simply no other word for it. Intrigued, the green tide surged down the narrow alley to the street.

     . . . Effectively, if accidentally, separating the rearguard from the van. 

     In very little time at all a general melee had ensued. Constables, guardsmen, townsfolk, gangers, and even spaceport dicks found themselves involuntary pugilists trading blows with enormous muscle-bound orcs and short, but extremely eager goblins.

     The orcs, outnumbered as they were now, fought valiantly but fell like grain at the harvest. Along with Kitty, who once again found herself temporarily insensible.

     But mark this well, for on this day when many fell the goblin piper, Squigpipes himself, short but doughty, did best the towering space pirate in his ceramite cuirass with all the benefit of his electroplas musculature, his rebreather, flash visor, targeters, combat reflexes, and squire-sized brain. Low even if all the other orcoids failed, Squigpipes came through . . . yet . . . again.

     Knowing a good opportunity when they saw one, and what with those standing now numbering fewer than fingers let alone toes, the chiefmost of the greenskins scarpered off, squigpipes among them.

     This still left Logansport's finest with quite a haul once the wooziness of too much excitement and a dozen or more rung bells wore off.

     Meanwhile, Colorado Rex-Avis looked down on the whole episode rather satisfied. That had gone . . . better than she'd expected. She had been worried about Kitty for a bit, but she'd borne up well in the end. Hopefully the gang would have Frei out to their hidey hole in short order and she could go find out why it was Holy Terra had such an interest in one rather care worn spacer.

. . . . .

As always, thank you dear readers for joining me in this whimsy. I hope you have enjoyed it half so much as I. And if so, please do tune in next time for epsisode III of the Sentinel Gate Affair: Step Into My Parlor Said the Master to the Spy.

Sincerely,

The Composer

The Sentinel Gate Affair, Episode I: Rockabye Baby

A short time ago we witnessed a series of strange arrivals on Moab III: A pair of bounty hunters named Tomy Takara and Gobbrott and an enigmatic human named Gordon Frei who just might be the bounty. Barely a week has passed and yet another visitor arrives from foreign parts; this time aboard a cramped shuttle dispatched from a fast interplanetary cutter.

. . .

Dame Astrid Shaam (Royal Order of the Flowering Lamp) landed on Moab III just before midday in the capital city of Logansport. The weather was sweltering by then, made worse by her rather out of season clothing and the need to carry her grandson, Lord Ali Khan XIV, who simply refused to lie quietly in the absurd getup his mother had required for the introductory ball that afternoon. (Not that she could blame, him, really. But Astrid was increasingly certain his nappie was soiled. Ali's mother was otherwise occupied, there hadn't been any place to change him on the cramped shuttle, and he wouldn't let anyone other than daadi, granmother, carry him. So she walked across the tarmac at the closest thing to a dignified hurry ceremonial armor would allow.

. . . Only to be met at the gate by a harried looking shuttleport agent. Perhaps he worked in customs, but hadn't everything been pre-cleared when she'd boarded at Proserpine? What on earth could possibly be the matter?

     "Dame Astrid, I presume?" the squeaky voiced official enquired. "I believe I have a message for you from a Lady January Rex-Avis."

     "Indeed?" she asked genuinely taken aback. "What could be the matter?"

     "Lady Rex-Avis wished you to know that a Gordon Frei is believed to be at large on the planet. And that he is pursued by at least one bounty hunter carrying an Imperial warrant for Frei's apprehension. Uh . . . Madame?"

     At this the official hesitated briefly. "Yes?" Astrid prompted.

     "The warrant wasn't terribly specific on how he should be arrested. Nor in what state he was desired by the Terran authorities."

     "Oh dear. Thank you . . . "

     "Nguyen. Inspector Amos Nguyen." The official replied. When he spoke it his name sounded almost like wing, but . . . not quite. Astrid weighed that in her head a moment before replying.

     "Thank you Amos. Your information is most timely. If I might ask of you one favor?"

     "Yes madame?" he said courteously.

     "Please see to it that my shuttle is ready for departure as quickly as possible. I shall attend the function, meet Lady January, and then it seems I might need to leave here with some haste."

     "Absolutely madame. We are ever at your service. I'll see to it immediately!"

     Nguyen was clearly enthusiastic. Dame Astrid nodded at him and continued "In that case, I should get the young lord inside. I'm afraid he is in need of some refreshment and perhaps a change of attire."

     "Certainly madame."

     With that Astrid calmly escaped towards the promise of cool in the modest terminal building, leaving the inspector to his work.

     A few minutes later Inspector Nguyen returned to the tarmac accompanied by shuttleport security
and an orbital mechanic.

     "Lieutenant Adams, could you see to it that your men keep a close eye on that shuttle over there? It's a diplomatic courier so I'd like to take extra precautions."
     "Yes sir," the security officer replied calmly. "Consider it done."
     "Very good. And Jenkins?"
     "Yes sir?" the mechanic replied
     "Could you get the ship inspected, fueled, and prepped for liftoff? I know we're jumping the queue a bit, but this is beginning to look like a sensitive mission."
     "Sure. I'll get Johnson and we'll look it over right now. The only other shuttle that hasn't been inspected isn't scheduled to depart until early next week anyway," he said brightly, hefting his tank and preparing to walk back to the maintenance shed."
     "Really?" said Amos a little quizzically. "And which shuttle is that?"
     "Imperial pinnanace. Arrived last week. Our own lander is already serviced, and the alternate is docked with the scheduled liner. We're pretty much good to go."
     "An imperial pinnance? Is there a cruiser in orbit? I haven't seen one, or heard about it."
     "No sir. The pinnance came alone. She's registered to IMS Terror, which is a Horrible class battleship. Station ship on Mars, I believe. Long trip for such a light ship, but she's bigger than most Imperial light boats I've seen."
     "Very interesting. Thank you."
     With that Nguyen turned and walked back towards the safety of the terminal building.

     The shuttle was parked in a spot between the terminal and the shop. Out of habit Jenkins looked it over as he walked past. He paused a moment when he noticed a small puddle of dark ooze forming below the port nacelle.
     "Blast. Looks like they've got a hydraulic leak," he muttered to himself. He glanced up at the thruster and noticed the bead forming on the bottom of the cowling. When he reached the shop he logged onto his terminal and found the service bulletin he thought he'd remembered. The manufacturer was calling for inspections of the hydraulic lines to the propellant agitators. That had to be it. "Hey Johnson."
     "Yeah Jenks?" Marguerite Johnson replied from behind a large stack of rather oily parts.
     "If we have to pull an agitator from a L-440 do we have a spare? Or do you think you could fix one?"
     "I've got some parts, but not a whole spare agitator. Depends on the damage, but I can probably fix it. Why?"
     "Seems that hot shuttle that just came might have blown one. And it needs to take off double quick."
     "I'll get on it."

. . .

Tune in next time for Episode II of the Sentinel Gate Affair: A Bounty on the Mutant

Hello Kitty on a Hot Tin Roof

Last time on Adventures of the Lace Rock Gang our heroes encountered a sudden storm of super-sonic stay-away from all angles when they ventured to the site of the Graceful Ghost Gibsonite Mine to retrieve their supplies. Not only did the pirate Goldberg Street follow them so he could Shanghai their rightfully stolen goods, but bands of nearby orcs heard the gunfire as their brand of party time and showed up uninvited.

When the cordite fumes cleared Lace Rock leader Jackie Chu and his crew had snagged the better half of their stuff, but somehow Kitty Luong, the gang's principal sneaking specialist and anthropomorphic robot-cat freak, had disappeared. Only this time it looked like she hadn't snuck off to watch Twen-Cen 2D. The orcs must have gotten her! It falls on Chu and his comrades to see if they can be real quiet like and get their girl back.

The party arrived at the surprisingly lightly guarded scene in the middle of the night. The orks had a hard day of drinking and needed to sleep it off. (Which is pretty much every day for orks, really. Including days when they also shoot at stuff. Which is also pretty much every day.) As you can see below, the party chose to enter simultaneously from two sides. Not depicted in this film is a salt lake to the rear of the compound. You can wade in carefully single file, but there's no bringing in armies through the back door, so the grots who drew night watch and the heavy defenses were posted to the front.

Of course, the very first place the party went was the abandoned jail, which was also not too well defended, while simultaneously being where I had chosen to place Kitty. Oops. Note to self, don't place her so close to the back door next time. The party needs to discover her location the hard way. This is an action adventure. You need to make the characters work.

The game was supposed to be a variant on Pulp Alley's trail of clues. The party would interrogate each green "plot point" until they got the information they needed. I defeated myself by breaking PA's own rules and placing the primary objective in advance, thus rending such a shortcut as actually transpired possible. The team found Kitty pretty much on the first try. Next time Kitty will be in the same building as the boss, and neither will be placed until AFTER several greenskins have undergone the enhanced but quiet Q&A sessions that reveal the location BEFORE sneaking up on the guard and rendering him less conscious. But this time they just bonked him and found their girl.

After that, all that remained was for the gang to make good a hasty exit, which they did with only a little trouble. (They woke up a few grots whom they needed to quiet before alarms were raised to bring the orcs out of their alcohol induced slumber.)

If you're interested in the mechanics I used for some of the sneaking and interrogating come on over the PA community. I've written a more detailed review of the particulars there.

While it wasn't quite as successful as the first game, with a little tweaking I think it's solid. And it's nice that this was a sneak game and not a shoot game. The time limit this time was longer, so as to allow for the slower snaking progress, and was to be imposed by a group of orcs returning. As it happens, it never came up. Still, if my players are happy, and they seemed well enough pleased, all will work out. Now, to design a third episode.

Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Once Upon a Gilsonite Mine . . .

Welcome back, space fans. Let's recap the first take of the pilot episode of our Pulp Alley campaign . . . Showdown at the Graceful Ghost:

The scenario pitted two rival crews against one another. Some might call them smugglers, or even pirates, but we'll give them the benefit of the doubt and simply call them independent merchants specializing in "small, high-value parcel" acquisition and delivery. In the left corner was the opponent, Goldberg Street, with his trusted crew: Otto, Sturgis, Goldberg Street himself, Legs, the Beard, Lawrence (or Lawry), and Gunner.

In the right corner we had the Lacerock Band: "Shorty" McMaster, Kara "Stone" Mason, Kitty Luong, Jackie Chu, Musetta, Lorita McMaster, and van Erickson.

To their mutual chagrin they were joined by Squiggycap with his Mystic Crewe of Bashus: "Lumber" Jack, Four Arms the Wonder Twin, Fritz, and to the right Deuce and a Half (who closely resembles a truck in the right light.)

Also appearing in this episode were Doc Hobble and Mr. Burn with their Delightful Dreadlies and dis-orderlies.

Sabryin Owlfeather's Lace Rock Gang entered from the southeast corner of the table. (Assuming that the Graceful Ghost sign is south.) Goldberg Street entered from the northwest. Glodberg Street's boys immediately vaulted the fence and took up positions behind the large hill in the middle of the mine complex. Jackie Chu's gang fanned out behind the several buildings immediately inside the gate, with Shorty McMster heading the long way 'round the machine shed.

The first couple of turns were uneventful, but by turn three a large firefight had broken out in the center of the complex with the dwarves essentially pinned behind the ridgeline and the (mostly) humans spread out in the entry yard.

The first casualty was Kitty Luong, whom you see behind the cylindrical white shed. She took the fall on about turn four. (She's a very talented girl, but small and slightly breakable. Oops.) On turn five or six Shorty McMaster came around the back and outflanked the pirates. At that point several of them ran for cover inside the mine and found the loot. They took the crates closest to the door.

A turn or two later, after the dwarves vacated with their booty, Shorty entered the mine and found the Graceful Ghost . . .

only to be possessed and start shooting like a slightly mad elf at everyone nearby. Maybe he thought his dear shepherdess Lorita had run off with some other clown. On the positive side, given the outflanking maneuver, all nearby clowns were as dwarfish as Shorty and twice as piratical.

At this point Chu's gang began charging up the middle of the site, hoping to stop Goldberg Street from getting all the darned loot. This lead to an interesting mele on the hill and some smaller fights over by the fence at the northwest corner, where the dwarves were trying to make a break for it. Ultimately by turn seven The Beard, Otto, Lawry, Shorty, and Lorita had each taken loot and begun to make a run for it.

On turn eight, things got a bit more sticky. Cap'n Squiggycap must have heard the funfire (gunshots to Orky ears) and decided there was a party over at the old mine. He and his boys showed up. Of course he came in on the east side of the site. Must have been camped out there in the wilderness somewhere. And on turn nine things got even more interesting when Doc Hobble and Mr. Burn showed up too with their collaborative moving sculpture project. (Angry repurposed junkpiles complete with large weapons and a desire to shoot . . . everyone. Think of it as an ensemble performance piece.)

The dreadful dreadnaughts saw no need to jump the fence. They just knocked it down and began dispensing their Christmas crackers. It's a party. Everyone should play! While Squiggycap was madly enlivening, or should I say endeadening the soiree on the hillside the dreadfuls broke up the dances down by the fence. And heroes great and small began to drop under the pressure of bullets from three or four directions and axeheads the size of snowshovels. (Though doubtless weighing much more.)  Hary went down. Kara Stone took a fall. Even Chu lost his footing and let Lawry get away. Of course Shorty "Klick" McMasters, brother Lawry, and Otto were spreading the typical dwarven love for their friends the orks, but no matter how many fell there always seemed to be more.

At the end of the night we ran out of time. Chu and Kara were pretty much surrounded by hostile green. Van Erikson was down in a bad place and Musetta was likely to be following shortly after. The dwarves were mostly suddenly in a position to bolt and escape, though it was doubtless going to be a little harry for Goldberg Street, Legs, and Gunner on the hilltop. I figure in the end the rest of both gangs probably got away. Chu's just too tough for that bunch of greenskins. But where did Kitty end up? Why didn't she show up at the rendevous? Maybe it's time for Goldberg Street and Chu to call a truce and figure a few things out.

Tune in next time as Chu and the rest of the gang attempt a good old fashioned snatch-and-grab in Hello Kitty on a Hot Tin Roof.