/qu/ - Quests/Roll

Unlocking the front door and navigating through the back alley takes a few minutes, you arrive at the dump with 26 left.

The corrugated iron gate creaks mornfully as you push it open and take note of the area.

Sodden rubbish blends together, carpeting the floor in mush, while the skip is full of packaging and irreparably damaged drone parts, which are only good for scrap - you could make use of them, but not with these time constraints.

The heap of rubbish in the far corner shifts, revealing a man who seems to blend into the surroundings, so totally is he covered in rubbish, so heavily has he scavenged paper to insulate him from the cold. He shivers and coughs, eyes blearily trying to focus on Llewes. A drifter, then, of the underclasses so poor they aren't even connected to the net.

>Move somewhere else.

>Talk with him (input custom message).

>Try to force the back door (1d20, 75% failure chance, high audio signature).

The drifter finally manages to focus on Llewes, as you speak with her voice.

"You're not turfing me out? That's mighty reasonable of you, officer miss… Uh, I wouldn't know anything specific, but… Some of the windows look large enough to get through, if you can break them. The doors? Their keyholes are locked securely… Uh, not that I'd know. Say, could you let me in? I could murder for a night out of the rain… Uh, figuratively, of course."

The conversation takes several minutes, leaving you with 22.

>Go back inside (Reception).

>Try breaking one of the larger windows (Wasteground to office, parking & loading to production floor, wasteland to production floor). Loud, and may wound (1d20, 60% without aids).

>Continue talking to the drifter (custom input).

>Attempt to bypass Rennes' cybersecurity.

>Try to force the back door (1d20, 75% failure, high audio).

Llewes' body slumps to the swampy floor, leaning against the drifter, as you withdraw to assault Rennes' headspace security. It's basic, but you've not attempted this before, except in theory.

(1d20, 50% failure - 20 - critical success)

Your consciousness probes at his, before slipping straight through the cracks in the digital barriers. A simple command sends him to sleep at the desk, midway through reading an article on recent dissenter attacks on pawn bays.

You return to Llewes, eyes snapping open, startling the drifter, looking straight at her.

"Miss? What happened there? Maybe you should see a doctor."

The whole digital action took barely forty seconds. 21 minutes remain.

>Talk with the drifter (get creative!).

>Assume control of Rennes (1d20 at 30%).

>Move to another area (specify to attempt breaking and entering).

My bad on the instructions, forgot to note the rolls - in future players should roll for the action themselves using the dice option).

You get up and walk away from the drifter without another word… You don't seem to have the hang of interaction yet, despite your surfacenet presence's proficiency in shitposting.

The drifter follows you, by now he's realised all is not as it seems.

Walking through the empty building takes a little time, leaving you with 16.

You stand on the production floor, it's cluttered with parts, the finished product drone bay nearly half full.

You can see Rennes through the large office windows, still asleep at the desk, your neural blocker keeping him from waking. The keys to back door are beside him.

The drifter speaks "You're not the guard, are you?"

Talking is a free action. You can chain decisions and schedule everything, or add custom actions, but the more you do per update the more time it will take.

>Speak to the drifter (custom)

>Begin charging the drone power and moving crates (to the dump or parking lot?).

>Take the keys from Rennes and open the back door.

>Custom_

Llewes speaks… "No, I'm not. Get Rennes' keys, you're going to take his car. I need you to find somewhere I can reprogram these drones. I'll need a 'net connection, but keep it low key, off the grid."

The drifter shrugs and nods in assent. "I know a place." then heads into the office to divest the other security guard of his car keys.

You open the loading bay door, letting in the howling wind and stinging rain. Thanks to Llewes' memories you know which car is Rennes' and you start to pile boxes of parts and unpowered drones next to it.

The drifter returns just in time to help you connect as many drones as will fit onto the mains power, keys and a box of cigarettes in hand.

There's nothing more to do but wait, now…

It's a rare moment of peace for the both of you, in strange surroundings… The wind rocks the dim, shielded lamps of the production floor, bleeding out into the night, mingling with the dim orange of the drifter's smoke.

There's enough time to get the drones up to half-charge, before you have to go. You stand up and disconnect the drones, before heading toward the door. A simple command to follow and hide is all it takes to tether them to Rennes' car.

Hand on doorframe, the drifter speaks. "Wait! Tell me one thing - what are you?".

You smile, with Llewes' pretty face.

"Call me… Mother."

You make it back to reception with a few seconds to spare, exiting Llewes' head just as you hear an engine start up. A moment later, and your involvement is scrubbed from both guard's brains.

—

The beat-up car speeds through deserted streets, further and further into the slums, a small swarm of drones just barely visible following, if you cared to look hard enough. Inside, the drifter turns up the heat and divests himself of some of his foul clothing, revealing a battered dog collar, the off-white clasp starkly visible in the gloom.

"Well now, there's a thing indeed…"

—

Some time later, Llewes is woken with by Rennes' gruff shout.

"Jorant, get in here!"

Standing in the corridor, both guards look through into the factory to see the empty floor, water pooling against the assembly line, still flying through the open loading bay.

A single crate sits facing the great outdoors, Folgher's cigarette packet placed neatly on an edge.

As they watch, the dim embers left in a dog-end nearby go out.

—

Your surface presence notes, the following day, the liquidation of the Heironrik assembly plant & trader, and the corporate trial of two security guards, sentenced for participating in the seizure of goods.

MISSION 1 END

A second update is coming in which some new mechanics will be explained

MECHANICS

Mother is flesh and blood, though bound to the 'net. You can only handle so much data and supervise so much at once, while also maintaining a surface 'net presence as a disguise. This is reflected in how actions cost a certain percentage of power. If the power goes over your current limit (100%), you will have to cease surface 'net usage and send only dangerously visible packets of orders - every % over your maximum gives you a % per turn chance of being discovered by Ren-Hang Datasecurity operatives.

Actions therefore consist of 4 or more parts: Description, time to perform and data % cost, as well as the checks you must pass to perform it in meatspace (e.g. noise level, difficult terrain and so on).

—

Mission interim

Days pass by without a flicker of life from any of the stolen drones. You mull over the consequences of your actions - the Heironrik cleanout was the first time you had attempted to project yourself into "real" life, the physical world. Those security guards… Maybe you could use them again at some point. You keep tabs on their locations, it looks like they've both found similar employment at an even seedier business, as debt-slaves; their income is forfeit to Heironrik, now in administration, until such time as the owner feels they have repaid what they lost.

Eventually, the drones flicker into life - all of them at once. Accessing their crude black-and-white camera feeds you survey a panorama of flith - rolling hills of garbage, disused industrial buildings and collapsed slums. You must be in an abandoned district. Central to this landscape of decay is a grayed and wilting church, half hidden beneath a sagging overpass piled with debris.

The final drone comes online, dimly revealing the drifter, wearing slightly better attire, a vicar's collar prominent in the monochromatic display. In front of him is an overflowing ashtray, smoke drifting in the air. Behind, a splintered pillar, splitting the light from an air intake in two, the light further diffused by the slowly spinning fan blades, periodically lighting up the back of his head in a dusty glow.

"Mother, you are there." He states. "I have a task for you. Our goals align. Access node AD79P."

The individual drone feeds cut off as their power is shut off, leaving only that indoors, which soon winks out as well.

Searching, you find the node and connect, revealing the father from a different angle - specs show you the node to be an ancient personal computer with an inbuilt camera.

His voice crackles through the centuries-old microphone, "Foundry-419. Radon Parts-772. Get her out, get her here. The drones are fully powered. You have 72 hours." The node shuts down as the drones start back up.

—

Data Allotment:

You have 100%, every % over will raise datasecurity scrutiny, increasing your likelihood of being caught. You reckon you can safely spend 60 hours .

>Research Foundry-419 and Radon Parts-772 (the more data% and time you dump here, the more useful details you will find)

>Move drones near to the target (5% per drone, 1 hour travel time)

>Scavenge and modify drones (Each is equipped with basic clamp manipulators) or create crude equipment. (Variable time, 20% per item, think things like blade-arms, net throwers, basic tin can grenades, molotovs, cameras etc)

>Communicate with the father

>Other_

Sorry, would have updated earlier but there was this whole thing with a plumber and I reached 2.0 and decided to hit up a milsurp website for happening/survival gear for the coming cyberdystopia.