Okay let's go for another round. New concept this time, and a new system.



Captain James Sullivan's Log, Day 344, Terran Year 2258
Normally, I am not one for logs. But I think this warrants a log. Also, a stiff drink. If I have any left...

Six hours ago our ship, the ISV Chandrasekhar, commenced a standard jump procedure out of the spinward gate in N3-66-07, a frontier system on the outskirts of Terran Alliance space.

Except we didn't arrive at G4-03-29. So yeah, that's... kind of a weird thing. SARA, the onboard computer, tells me she can't even find any proper TA navigation beacons. She says she found something that might be a nav beacon in a debris field not far from our current location, but she can't make heads or tails of it just yet. The signal is too weak, and our own sensors are screwed up.

Chan is in pretty bad shape, SARA's reporting several hull breaches and a number of burnt out systems, plus all our magazines cooked off somehow. Fortunately since we got that emergency blast channel system installed all that means is we're out of bullets and missiles. The PD Lasers are good, by some goddamn miracle, but all our shield capacitors are burnt out. Our engines are running at about twenty percent, we can't see jack because our long range sensors are FUBAR, and our shortjump drive is apparently in about a zillion pieces spread across the entirety of Engineering.

Soooo yeah, we're pretty much a sitting duck for any two-bit pirate that comes along. Fun!

To make matters worse, we were already running on a skeleton crew and a couple of guys haven't reported in. I'm gonna do a quick roll call and then we can figure out what we've gotten our stupid asses into this time. Guess we get to pick over the debris field to patch ourselves up!

Good times.

Captain Sully out.



As with Adventures of the Ulysses, this SoRtD uses the contested & fixed rolls system. Unless someone or something is actively working against you, you're working against a fixed difficulty.

Luck is largely unchanged. You can earn and spend Luck points for rerolls and whatnot.

This time around, I'll also be giving out boosts to people I see putting extra effort into their posts. I'm not going to define this too strictly in the interest of keeping things fair and fun.



PROFILING:


Captain James 'Sully' Sullivan:




CREW ROSTER:




CHANDRASEKHAR STATUS
PENDING DIAGNOSTICS



Sully's Notes: Basically, your 'objectives' are recorded here.
1) find out where the tits we are

Name: Trel Karnthine
Race: En'Kien
Backstory: Trel is one of the few En'Kien, a race of reptillian humanoids, who left his home to join the Terran Alliance. Due to his lack of spirituality, and because of an unsavory reputation back in his home District, he had no qualms about leaving. Due to his sister's status of one of the ten Assembled, he was able to secure relatively easy passage out of the system via the Alliance's moon embassy. Once Trel reached official Alliance space, he managed to find his way to a Terran Alliance recruitment center, where he was met with several interested glances. Due to his outgoing and friendly nature, his supervisor recommended him for Foreign Relation duty on an exploration vessel, an assignment he was more than happy to take. The Chandrasekhar will be the first ship that Trel will serve on.

Description: Trel, an En'Kien, is around five feet tall, and is covered in dark green scales with a smooth chest of white, typical of his race. He has a calm tail devoid of any unique features, and has a small set of claws on each hand, filed down to prevent any injuries to fellow crew members. He is often found wearing an old fashioned aviator jacket coupled with an unassuming scarf and leather boots.

Role: Extraterrestrial Relations Expert
Inventory:
-ERROR-
Perks:
-ERROR-

After much collaboration with Arcalane on developing the En'Kien, I am finished.

Name: Rixie Heart
Description: A young, small, thinly built female with short, messy red hair and violet eyes. Both her left arm and right leg are mechanical (the result of an old piloting mishap) although she sees it as more of an improvement than anything else. Doesn't mind getting in tech heavy conversations, and knows her way around a computer. Her cooking skills have improved significantly since she has been stationed on the vessel, being pushed into a part time, ad-hoc cook, and has recently been spending far too much time in the galley than she would care too. Gets along well with most of the crew, known for being headstrong and showing great tenacity when it comes to seemingly impossible tasks.
Role: Helmsman and Communications (Second Officer training).
Inventory:
-NA-
Perks:
-NA-

Name: Ryker Whirlow
Description: An averagely sized man with black hair and a full beard extending from his sideburns. 43 years old. Despite his long history of working for a company called RevisCor, Ryker has decided to move aboard a simple ISV as a doctor, after years of service taking this role aboard large stations. While he worked for RevisCor, he was very popular for being a kind and caring doctor, and had a high pay, but left for a quieter life. He has a very large smoking addiction and will often chainsmoke if he can, despite being a doctor. He appreciates fine cigars and strong drinks but is anything but classy. Though he does his best to avoid conflict he is wont to lose his patience and begin yelling. He seems to have something troubling his past. When asked about it, he feigns ignorance. His medical history shows several names of patients he couldn't save.
Role: Medical Doctor
Inventory:
Perks:

Name: Boris Yugolev.
Description: He was born in Russia and still lived there for 36 years. Only 1 year later he joined the ISV Chandrasekhar and took the Job of the Engineer. He works hard, as because the Ships Engine is always on. He has some friends in other Countries, and a family, and a photo of the family. He used to repair Cars, Tanks and even the big War-Mechs*, but Ship Engines were kind of new for him. Also, some Guy told him to take the job of the Engineer, as the normal work with Tanks, Cars and War-Mechs could probaly be useful for repairing Ship Engines. Sadly Boris nearly burnt his skin off his hand. Thankfully not. Under the heat of all that, hes mostly angry, but remains silent. Oh, and if you ever got hit by him with a Wrench, i dont want to be you. During his Work of Repairing he got some masses of Muscles.
Role: Engineer.
Inventory:
Perks:

Sign me up! Char sheet coming soon.

Edit: Here we go. I'd be medic but Miggs already took that job.

Name: Raphael "Ralph" Mebbit
Description: Age 24. Skinny, average-height young man with short messy black hair, grey eyes, and pale skin. Most of the time he's wearing a lab coat, often leading him to be mistaken for a scientist. Although he has the degree needed to get a job in his field(s), he's mostly self-taught, learning from dusty books and the internet. Not very social, but he gets the job done efficiently. Electronics technicians and programmers (what Ralph is) are all over the place nowadays, leading to a rather low demand of them, and his wide range of programming capabilities doesn't help land a job when specialists are preferred. After spending a couple of years working in an old-fashioned coffee shop, Ralph found a job opening calling for a technician on the Chan, and unfortunately for him, he jumped on that opportunity.
Role: Electronics Technician and Programmer
Inventory:
Perks:

Signups still open, one or two spaces left. OP was updated with Sully's profile a few hours ago for some info about your glorious captain.

Cave: Bit bare-bones, and the ship's running on a skeleton/vital-positions-only crew. Just a couple of things to keep in mind.

I imagine an electronics technician/programmer would be useful considering the amount of electronics any kind of space craft would have.

EDIT : Done.

Name: Bob Jones
Description: A man of average height with thick, black hair and dark blue eyes, Bob Jones had been serving the navy for six years, before his previous vessel was destroyed due to a faulty warhead in the missile rack. Bob was on the opposite side of the ship at the time and told the captain that the warhead would blow if loaded into the tubes, but the captain did not listen. After the explosion that gutted half the vessel, Bob and six others survived to tell the tale. After being effectively fired for not performing his duties, he has found his way into the private work force. He gets along with the crew and is fond of telling tales of his various adventures, both real and made up. Rather fond of drinking to the point he got a week in the brig on a naval warship for setting up a still inside an empty munitions locker. He insists that it was for cleaning agent, but everyone knows otherwise.
Role: Weapons Technician - Not a gunner, think of a man who would maintain the ships weaponry, both in the magazines and in the weapon systems themselves.
Inventory:
Nothing.
Perks:
None

Reserved for first update. Drafting stuff, will review and update once I've gotten some sleep.

NAME: Brinstar-O539
DESCRIPTION: Genius hacker with a hand cannon. His right hand was cut off by a rogue Ronin and was replaced by a Beam Rifle Hand Cannon. He belongs to a forgotten race, forgotten enough i forgot the name of it. He emits a blue glow. Sully apparently found him crushed by a rock.
ROLE: Console Hacker
INVENTORY: Beam Cannon (broken, not functioning.)
PERKS: ERROR: SYSTEM OFFLINE

Okay, sorry this took so long but I was asked to give a couple of people second chances with their profiles. But progress on that front is slow, and I don't want to keep everyone else waiting. So..!



Sheet updates! Perks and Inventories assigned! You're free to add minor personal effects.





Captain James Sullivan's Log, Day 344, Terran Year 2258
Okay, so I got a quick headcount. ♥♥♥♥. Shitshit♥♥♥♥. We're down to me and like, iunno, six other guys. Hell, one of 'em's not really a guy. Another definitely ain't a guy. Anyhow, here's who we got.

Trel... somethin' or other. One of the few En'Kien to leave their home planet and I get stuck babysitting him for his first flight. He's an okay guy, but a total rookie when it comes to spaceflight. I hear their whole nation is, even.

Rixie, my uh... 'xecutive officer. She handles the helm and the comms. Also she's a pretty good cook given the limited supplies we have to work with. Pretty face too.

Uh, anyway. Next up is Ryker... Whirlow. Doc. Boy am I glad the doc survived. I don't think anyone that's left is too badly injured, but you can bet we'll be needing his help. I feel sorry for the guy... kinda why I hired him, I guess.

One of those scrappy old Heigstromm 'bots. Last owner painted 'Heirophant' on it or something. Old boltbag creeps me out but it's good at keeping the ship in order so I ain't complaining.

Ralph. Damn kid, dunno how his scrawny ass survived but he's pretty good with electronics and hardware so I'm glad he's on our side given the situation we're in. Probably beats working in some beat up old coffee shop though.

Jones. ♥♥♥♥'-Jones. Ex-Navy. Handles our guns, mostly the munitions rather than the gunning. SARA can gun okay. Anyway he manages the magazines. Or he would, if they hadn't all gone off like it was the fourth of ♥♥♥♥' July.

SARA is busy running diagnostics on the ship. I'm gonna gather everyone on the bridge and maybe we can figure out what to do next.



The Bridge
Captain Sully has summoned you all from your posts to the bridge of the Chandrasekhar, a small four-seat affair with lots of panels and consoles. The lights are dimmed. Several of those panels and consoles are dark... burnt out and damaged. The pilot sits to the starboard side, with the navigator on their left. Far left, slightly further back, is the sensors/comms operator. Opposite, on the right, is a general purpose terminal. Usually that's Sully's seat.

Sully does not look like a happy man. He's frowning, clearly worried, and is way out of his league here.

"Alright, so you guys and me... we're basically all that's left of the crew. I'm gonna be blunt, we're about sixty different flavours of screwed right now. Sensors are screwed up, SARA can't find a navbeacon, and I got a hunch we ain't even remotely close to Alliance space any more."

Sully paces around the bridge, gesturing to a flickering holodisplay. The Chandrasekhar's current position is a blue pyramid in the center of the display. The system has a small blue sun, a considerable distance away, and a number of indistinct planets and planetoids -- the sensors are in too bad a state to gather any data on them yet.

"So anyway, there's this junk field nearby we can get to on sublight even with our drives at twenty percent. I figure we rifle through whatever crap's left behind and maybe we can get ourselves in better order, maybe see if we can fish starmaps out of the navcomps on the wrecks if we're lucky. Plus the debris'll make good cover if any pirates come looking. State we're in, we can just go dark and look like another ♥♥♥♥' wreck. Ugh. What do you guys think?"

Well, that's not an open-ended question at all, huh?

The Heigstromm unfolds a few appendages with a mildly annoying off-beat clicking sound, and gestures.

helpful notes
multiple gutted chambers with the Heigstromm contain, variously, a small human knucklebone, a vial of sand, dead antlike creatures and an intricate folded-metal dodecahedron

the drone is utterly mute; all conversation takes place as a crude transliteration from gestures