Asteroid Blues


Creative Accounting

View Linked Report - CLICK HERE 300 POINTS
VS Ariadna

They said the Bank, it’s a shame they didn’t add it as a blood bank ….

Disclaimer: both me and my opponent had a longer break in playing, so we made quite a few mistakes and broke a few rules, but in the end we both had fun and that's what it was about.
Also in many photos it looks like my opponent has two core links, it really was one core and one haris, just the right marker was lost somewhere.
My friend, as befits a guy from Ariadne, mixed a piece of chipboard and the wreck of an old garden table, so it was worth trying out a new gaming table. The choice was Show of force, 300pt Corregidor vs Scots.

It started as always, when the situation got too hot, the bankers called us. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against our brothers from Tunguska, what's more, if you have to fight in court, you won't find anyone better. Simply put, when your neighborhood raids a bunch of degenerate vandals then you call for us, Meteorhead.

New Bangkok, the center of nothing, shithole, or as my grandmother said, "a place where dogs bark their asses". Funny, when I was a kid I thought she was talking about a place on Bakunin.

Everything changed when one drunk moron quarreled with another drunk moron. They demolished half a bar, nothing unusual, but they accidentally discovered a nest of aliens. And suddenly everyone became interested in this hole.

By the way, everyone decided to do some business and suddenly everyone came to us. Aliens, Aleph, Ariadna, let me tell you something, my brother-in-law worked at La Forja when Ariadna came with an "inspection", and trust me, an inspection you can find (if you are unlucky) in the most despicable and dangerous corners of Human Sphere will not be halfway as brutal and destructive as what these savages did.

No, I have nothing against technically disabled people, moreover I will say first that everyone has the right to live as they please, but one should behave. Just live and let live.

Ok, ok, back to the story.

Someone from BoT reported that some suspicious and armed men were hanging around in an unfinished BoT unit, and because a typical office equipment thief is usually not heavily armed, so it would be good for us to see what's going on.

What's worse, although the unit has not yet been completed, there was a fully operational Arachne node and several boxes with "equipment". Things started to look serious.

So we decided to look around. Me, Charlie with his Angels, Stevie-Baby, Mr. Groove along with Bolt Bucket and Señor Massacre with his guys.

It was Sunday, just after noon, which does not matter when you are inside an asteroid that has turned by human greed and ingenuity into a giant termite.

The guys from Tunguska love luxury, luxury shows that they are rich and influential, and nothing shows that you have money as well as well-groomed plants.

In space, where every scrap of living space is at a premium, a well-kept garden with trees (it's the big ones) and bushes (it's the little ones), screams: "I'm important, I have money and influence, don't mess with me."

Unfortunately, something went wrong here, maybe scientists from Bakunin overdosed on growth hormone, or maybe something local caused a mutation, the fact is that these damn weeds grew terribly and did not resemble anything I have ever seen.

Ok, one plant looked like an illegitimate child of algae and tomato, but back to the story.

When we arrived, the bandits were already there (no offense, Stevie-Baby). Two larger groups plundered these strange thickets, and two "ghosts" were hiding on the roof of a small building far behind (probably long-range support). The camouflaged group in the vicinity of the Arachne node was more disturbing.

We took positions quickly. Charlie (for you, lieutenant Charles Leclerc the IIIrd) with his team at the base of the stairs. Mr. Groove (we call him that because after hours he plays in a small tavern), he squatted a bit behind. Me on the right, Señor Massacre with his boys behind a clump of this strange vegetation on the left. Bolt Bucket far to the left behind the strange rock formation, and Stevie-Baby lurking on the building far to the right.

Angels took a position on the roof, and Charlie moved forward and secured the corner of the building. I followed him.
Angels were not so lucky as soon as they stood on the roof one of the masked guys threw a grenade (crit).
Luck was not on our side that day. (what if ARM rolls...)
As soon as I started forward one of their highwaymens started shooting at me, but the short series from HMG silenced him for good. Unfortunately, the grenade guy successfully avoided all bullets.
One of our ex-ganger tried his luck with Panzerfaus but instead he got a bullet from grenade guy pistol (crit).
Charles carefully moved behind the billboard, and I leaned out from behind the corner and shot with HMG. Unfortunately, it did not impress the tough guy, he threw another grenade and damaged my Iguana and wounded Charles (another crit).
Then the last Angel split the burst between grenade guy and second highwaymen. The second one fell at once but the first one accurately shot the poor girl.
If anyone asked me it was an extremely bloody beginning of the fight, before we knew it, most of the team was unable to fight, but there were also some better moments. Mr. Groove patched my Iggy quickly and efficiently.
Bolt Bucket was not lucky either. As soon as he climbed this strange rock he was immediately shot by one of the Scots. Imagine, the only one who had a rifle, a bunch of Scots with ONE rifle, shoots at a long range and not only hits but also damages the armored REM which is also partially covered. What the f***g luck you have to have? Fortunately, Mr. Groove managed to patch him up somehow.
Then these looters finally moved forward (probably they found nothing in the bushes / trees / mutated algae). Carefully, they crawled up the stairs, joined the grenadier and his hidden guys. In larger numbers they felt braver and the largest of them was shooting at me. I'll tell you that T2 ammo is really nasty shit. Poor Iggy turned into a colander, luckily I was able to land on the roof of a nearby building. Say what you like, even at its last minute, Iggy showed what she could do and took one of them with her.
The next group of robbers moved forward, they probably had more respect for the skills of Nomads, because they were moving carefully, under the cover of smoke and buildings. Or maybe I just impressed them because they were clearly walking in my direction.
Another Jaguar tried to throw a smoke grenade and unfortunately stumbled over his own shoelaces ...
His opponent did not have such problems. Somehow, Jaguar survived.
Our situation looked dark, I gritted my teeth and began to systematically clean around the Arachne node.
Eventually the roof got a little less crowded.
Señor Massacre moved forward and then luck left his buddy.
But Señor Massacre kept running and dodgeed and dodgeded until he was behind the hardware cabinets.
And when the situation looked like luck was finally to smile at us, a unlucky shot from the pistol stopped Señor Massacre literally an inch from the target (another crit).
It was getting hot on my side too. Stevie-Baby was ready, in one hand a hacking device, in the other a machete. Hacking action this or that way. Our opponents did not look faint-hearted, two packed lads, looking as if they had broken free from one Praxis laboratory and this Aleph puppet. But they didn't dare to come closer, instead they smoked like teenagers and started shooting. When T2 bullets started flying around my head, I thought it was so stupid to be shot down by such bears, so I jumped behind the cover.
You know, Mr. Groove is always rummaging around with his REMs, always improving something, etc. Probably because that Bolt Bucket is a bit unpredictable. And it was then that the maniac mode turned on. He took off like a rocket, ran to the stairs, climbed the railing and fired a flamethrower before being scrapped. No one was alive on the roof.
Beefy bulls decided to unload frustration on Mr. Groove.
Then they smoked a little more, one of their friends tried to stick the sword in the communication port (with no result).
At the end they shot blindly from the flamethrower (Charles somehow hid behind the billboard) and finally they realized that there were no coffee machines that they could steal.

Say what you want, it was a real bloodbath. I think next time they'll think twice before they fall into trouble with us. Well, we've been hit a bit, but it's nothing new, no matter how hard they press us and we'll get up. And that's the whole story. OK, who buys the next round?

Overheard at the Main Strip bar

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