Create Your Own Story - User contributions [en]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:33:29 GMT

MisterHand:

Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him very well. Since poorly-fitting coveralls can be a hazard, you figure he's wearing someone else's, or perhaps he's a manager who wears more roomy coveralls as a mark of his status. Either way, you are much too busy to linger on the thought.

The buyer, whose name tag says "NIELSSEN," greets you casually. He doesn't want to draw attention to the two of you. "At last we meet! I ''thought'' you sounded sexy over the FTL."

You smile graciously as he looks you up and down. He probably hasn't seen a woman in months.

You can't just stand around here - the longer you do, the more likely your smuggling job will be discovered. What's next?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Inside Vega|Invite him aboard to see the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Questions|Find out more about the buyer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Quick Dealing|Ask about payment]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:32:13 GMT

MisterHand:

Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him very well. Since poorly-fitting coveralls can be a hazard, you figure he's wearing someone else's, or perhaps he's a manager who wears more roomy coveralls as a mark of his status. Either way, you are much too busy to linger on the thought.

The buyer, whose name tag says "NIELSSEN," greets you casually. He doesn't want to draw attention to the two of you. "At last we meet! I ''thought'' you sounded sexy over the FTL."

You smile graciously as he looks you up and down. He probably hasn't seen a woman in months, except in those smutty holovids.

You can't just stand around here - the longer you do, the more likely your smuggling job will be discovered. What's next?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Inside Vega|Invite him aboard to see the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Questions|Find out more about the buyer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Quick Dealing|Ask about payment]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:31:55 GMT

MisterHand:

Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him very well. Since poorly-fitting coveralls can be a hazard, you figure he's wearing someone else's, or perhaps he's a manager who wears more roomy coveralls as a mark of his status. Either way, you are much too busy to linger on the thought.

The buyer, whose name tag says "NIELSSEN," greets you casually. He doesn't want to draw attention to the two of you. "At last we meet! I ''thought'' you sounded sexy over the FTL." You smile graciously as he looks you up and down. He probably hasn't seen a woman in months, except in those smutty holovids.

You can't just stand around here - the longer you do, the more likely your smuggling job will be discovered. What's next?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Inside Vega|Invite him aboard to see the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Questions|Find out more about the buyer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Quick Dealing|Ask about payment]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:31:28 GMT

MisterHand:

Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him very well. Since poorly-fitting coveralls can be a hazard, you figure he's wearing someone else's, or perhaps he's a manager who wears more roomy coveralls as a mark of his status. Either way, you are much too busy to linger on the thought.

The buyer, whose name tag says "NIELSSEN," greets you casually. He doesn't want to draw attention to the two of you. "At last we meet! I ''thought'' you sounded sexy over the FTL. You smile graciously as he looks you up and down. He probably hasn't seen a woman in months, except in those smutty holovids.

You can't just stand around here - the longer you do, the more likely your smuggling job will be discovered. What's next?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Inside Vega|Invite him aboard to see the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Questions|Find out more about the buyer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Quick Dealing|Ask about payment]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:30:28 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him …'

Right on schedule, your buyer exits the turbolift from below the pad. He is wearing the typical gray coveralls issued to government yard workers, but they don't seem to fit him very well. Since poorly-fitting coveralls can be a hazard, you figure he's wearing someone else's, or perhaps he's a manager who wears more roomy coveralls as a mark of his status. Either way, you are much too busy to linger on the thought.

The buyer, whose name tag says "NIELSSEN," greets you casually. He doesn't want to draw attention to the two of you. "At last we meet! I ''thought'' you sounded sexy over the FTL. You smile graciously as he looks you up and down. He probably hasn't seen a woman in months, except in those smutty holovids.

You can't just stand around here - the longer you do, the more likely your smuggling job will be discovered. What's next?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Inside Vega|Invite him aboard to see the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Questions|Find out more about the buyer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous:Quick Dealing|Ask about payment]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Stealthy Landing (Manual)

MisterHand — Thu, 21 Jan 2016 17:11:42 GMT

MisterHand:

Fortunately, this isn't the first sneaky landing you've made, and you know all the tricks. First, you wait for the night watch when traffic is low and the largest number of landing pads are vacant. Second, you approach to a hair over ten kilometers, just outside the range of the station's automated sensors. Third, you point your ship towards a less busy part of the station so you can get there without the need for large course corrections. Fourth, you power down the non-essential systems on your ship to reduce your thermal and EM signature, to make it harder for patrolling fighters to detect you.

Now for the hard part. You fire your thrusters and the ''Vega'' lurches towards the station, on the heading you pre-steered before powering down. Then you power down the thrusters too! You are dead in the water - no engines, no communications, no sensors, no shields, no navigation. You also have no life support, which is why you can see the vapor of your breath as you exhale into the now freezing cockpit. The only things turned on are your landing gear and the heaters that keep your thrusters from freezing.

You see a few patrol craft, but they don't see you. Your running lights are off, and the ''Vega'' now has the heat signature of a moderately large and shiny piece of space debris. You smirk at your own cleverness as the ship's inertia carries you all the way to the landing pad.

With only 100 meters to go, you re-ignite your thrusters again to bring the ship to a stop and touch down on the pad. Perfect! No one has seen you arrive; and on a station this busy, no one is going to bother to check if you're supposed to be here.

You restore normal power to the ship, and your cockpit becomes comfortable to sit in again. You also lower the ramp and loading elevators so you can get to work selling your cargo. How are you going to get it off the ship and get paid ''on the station'' without getting caught, anyway?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Disguise|You have disguised it as an official delivery by labeling the crates "PARTS" in government stencil]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous|You have already arranged for someone to meet you on the pad and buy the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Improvise|Actually, you are making the plan up as you go]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy

MisterHand — Sat, 11 Jul 2015 07:19:18 GMT

MisterHand:

You are Amy, an independent trader. At least, that's what you are in the 99 percent of systems that have no laws or people. Anywhere else, you are a smuggler - someone who makes her living transporting goods that are rare, illegal, or highly taxed. It can be a profitable line of work if you don't mind being on the wrong side of the law, risking your life and livelihood every time you land. Your ship, the ''Vega'', is small and fast, with special heat sinks to hide your signature from the law enforcement vessels and pirate ships who patrol the space lanes. You may be a woman in a man's world, but it would be a mistake to underestimate you. The blaster on your hip is not for show, and you are a master at the quick-draw style of shooting that only outlaws can truly learn. You are also not above using your body as a weapon - your youthful beauty and feminine wiles have gotten you out of just as many jams as your trusty blaster. With long reddish-brown hair and curves like a racing yacht, you know your wits and charm can be more dangerous than any weapon.

Today is the last day of what you hope will be a very profitable mission. Checking your instruments, you make sure nobody is following you before you make your unauthorized landing. What are you hauling?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy: Shipyard|Illegal goods for shipyard workers]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy: Prison Colony|Contraband for the convicts on a government reservation]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy: Rebel Base|Military-grade weapons for the local rebels]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 07:33:22 GMT

MisterHand:

After thinking it over, you decide a steady paycheck might be a nice change of pace. Besides, smuggling supplies to the rebels sounds safer than dealing with the underworld, as long as you're technically a freelancer and not a sympathizer. You give the rebel captain your smiling reply: "Make it a captain's salary and I'm in."

"Not a chance, hot stuff," the captain shoots back, smirking at your bold counter-proposal. "No offense, but a sporty little hauler like yours doesn't even rate a commander's pay. If you want a command that comes with oak leaves, try a frigate or cruiser."

"Fair enough," you sigh. Well, it was worth a try anyway. "You must have plenty of work for someone with my skills. Try me."

"Not so fast, my little spitfire." He laughs - obviously he's beginning to like you. "We need to brief you first - give you a picture of the strategic situation so you can make good decisions out there. And we'd be happy to give you some training at our compound, free of charge."

You accept the offer graciously, though you doubt a bunch of half-trained rebel fighters would have anything to teach an experienced pilot and gunslinger like you. Maybe you can even teach them a thing or two!

With a rebel fighter on each wing, you and the freighter captain descend into the atmosphere above, touching down on a simple landing pad that the rebels have cleared in a remote valley. Apparently their base on this planet is a hidden one.

The freighter captain greets you on the landing pad with a gentlemanly handshake. He's quite tall and handsome in person, with dark green eyes and short brown hair. "Right this way," he beckons, indicating a very solid alloy door that leads into an underground bunker. "The General is waiting."

"General Taylor?" you ask. You've heard of this guy, a Federal officer from the system who has become the rebellion's unquestioned leader.

"That's the one," your escort tells you. "He's a soldier's soldier. Tough as nails and smart as hell." As the door opens, he motions you through. "Ladies first. My name is Ethan, by the way; Commander Ethan Carter. Can I know yours?"

"Amy," you reply simply. "A pleasure to meet you."

Ethan leads you to a war room deep inside the bunker, presumably located at its center so that bunker-busting munitions won't knock it out in an attack. In the middle of this large command center stands General Taylor, a tall, graying, bearded man who looks to be in his late fifties. He wears a somewhat more ornamented version of Ethan's uniform, with four stars on his epaulets and on his cap. His posture is ramrod-straight, his voice clear and commanding. You are not looking forward to meeting this man - he looks like the kind of grizzled veteran who can be your best friend one minute and kill you the next. Still, however impressive this so-called general is to his men, they're still just a band of outlaws fighting a losing battle with the Federation.

Over the next hour or so, General Taylor and Ethan - who apparently leads the rebels' only attack squadron - brief you on their logistical situation. Their weapons are either stolen or second-hand, and not every man even has a proper rifle. The general tells you that he's arranged for an attack on a small Federation outpost in an adjacent sector. The defenses are rather light, but the outpost does have an armory, and even the smallest Federal garrison is well-armed and equipped. You will fly the weapons out once Ethan and his squadron have battered down the outpost's defenses.

"This sounds more like ordinary shipping than smuggling," you point out. "If it's so easy, what do you need me for?"

This time Ethan is the one who answers. "The planet we want the weapons delivered to is under a blockade. You'll need to slip through that blockade without getting caught. The last two attempts failed, but we're confident that ''you'' can pull it off."

You nod absent-mindedly. Of course you can pull it off; you're the best.

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 07:32:59 GMT

MisterHand:

After thinking it over, you decide a steady paycheck might be a nice change of pace. Besides, smuggling supplies to the rebels sounds safer than dealing with the underworld, as long as you're technically a freelancer and not a sympathizer. You give the rebel captain your smiling reply: "Make it a captain's salary and I'm in."

"Not a chance, hot stuff," the captain shoots back, smirking at your bold counter-proposal. "No offense, but a sporty little hauler like yours doesn't even rate a commander's pay. If you want a command that comes with oak leaves, try a frigate or cruiser."

"Fair enough," you sigh. Well, it was worth a try anyway. "You must have plenty of work for someone with my skills. Try me."

"Not so fast, my little spitfire." He laughs - obviously he's beginning to like you. "We need to brief you first - give you a picture of the strategic situation so you can make good decisions out there. And we'd be happy to give you some training at our compound, free of charge."

You accept the offer graciously, though you doubt a bunch of half-trained rebel fighters would have anything to teach an experienced pilot and gunslinger like you. Maybe you can even teach them a thing or two!

With a rebel fighter on each wing, you and the freighter captain descend into the atmosphere above, touching down on a simple landing pad that the rebels have cleared in a remote valley. Apparently their base on this planet is a hidden one.

The freighter captain greets you on the landing pad with a gentlemanly handshake. He's quite tall and handsome in person, with dark green eyes and short brown hair. "Right this way," he beckons, indicating a very solid alloy door that leads into an underground bunker. "The General is waiting."

"General Taylor?" you ask. You've heard of this guy, a Federal officer from the system who has become the rebellion's unquestioned leader.

"That's the one," your escort tells you. "He's a soldier's soldier. Tough as nails and smart as hell." As the door opens, he motions you through. "Ladies first. My name is Ethan, by the way; Commander Ethan Carter. Can I know yours?"

"Amy," you reply simply. "A pleasure to meet you."

Ethan leads you to a war room deep inside the bunker, presumably located at its center so that bunker-busting munitions won't knock it out in an attack. In the middle of this large command center stands General Taylor, a tall, graying, bearded man who looks to be in his late fifties. He wears a somewhat more ornamented version of Ethan's uniform, with four stars on his epaulets and on his cap. His posture is ramrod-straight, his voice clear and commanding. You are not looking forward to meeting this man - he looks like the kind of grizzled veteran who can be your best friend one minute and kill you the next. Still, however impressive this so-called general is to his men, they're still just a band of outlaws fighting a losing battle with the Federation.

Over the next hour or so, General Taylor and Ethan - who apparently leads the rebels' only attack squadron - brief you on the rebel's logistical situation. Their weapons are either stolen or second-hand, and not every man even has a proper rifle. The general tells you that he's arranged for an attack on a small Federation outpost in an adjacent sector. The defenses are rather light, but the outpost does have an armory, and even the smallest Federal garrison is well-armed and equipped. You will fly the weapons out once Ethan and his squadron have battered down the outpost's defenses.

"This sounds more like ordinary shipping than smuggling," you point out. "If it's so easy, what do you need me for?"

This time Ethan is the one who answers. "The planet we want the weapons delivered to is under a blockade. You'll need to slip through that blockade without getting caught. The last two attempts failed, but we're confident that ''you'' can pull it off."

You nod absent-mindedly. Of course you can pull it off; you're the best.

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 07:32:34 GMT

MisterHand:

After thinking it over, you decide a steady paycheck might be a nice change of pace. Besides, smuggling supplies to the rebels sounds safer than dealing with the underworld, as long as you're technically a freelancer and not a sympathizer. You give the rebel captain your smiling reply: "Make it a captain's salary and I'm in."

"Not a chance, hot stuff," the captain shoots back, smirking at your bold counter-proposal. "No offense, but a sporty little hauler like yours doesn't even rate a commander's pay. If you want a command that comes with oak leaves, try a frigate or cruiser."

"Fair enough," you sigh. Well, it was worth a try anyway. "You must have plenty of work for someone with my skills. Try me."

"Not so fast, my little spitfire." He laughs - obviously he's beginning to like you. "We need to brief you first - give you a picture of the strategic situation so you can make good decisions out there. And we'd be happy to give you some training at our compound, free of charge."

You accept the offer graciously, though you doubt a bunch of half-trained rebel fighters would have anything to teach an experienced pilot and gunslinger like you. Maybe you can even teach them a thing or two!

With a rebel fighter on each wing, you and the freighter captain descend into the atmosphere above, touching down on a simple landing pad that the rebels have cleared in a remote valley. Apparently their base on this planet is a hidden one.

The freighter captain greets you on the landing pad with a gentlemanly handshake. He's quite tall and handsome in person, with dark green eyes and short brown hair. "Right this way," he beckons, indicating a very solid alloy door that leads into an underground bunker. "The General is waiting."

"General Taylor?" you ask. You've heard of this guy, a Federal officer from the system who has become the rebellion's unquestioned leader.

"That's the one," your escort tells you. "He's a soldier's soldier. Tough as nails and smart as hell." As the door opens, he motions you through. "Ladies first. My name is Ethan, by the way; Commander Ethan Carter. Can I know yours?"

"Amy," you reply simply. "A pleasure to meet you."

Ethan leads you to a war room deep inside the bunker, presumably located at its center so that bunker-busting munitions won't knock it out in an attack. In the middle of this large command center stands General Taylor, a tall, graying, bearded man who looks to be in his late fifties. He wears a somewhat more ornamented version of Ethan's uniform, with four stars on his epaulets and on his cap. His posture is ramrod-straight, his voice clear and commanding. You are not looking forward to meeting this man - he looks like the kind of grizzled veteran who can be your best friend one minute and kill you the next. Still, however impressive this so-called general is to his men, they're still just a band of outlaws fighting a losing battle with the Federation.

Over the next hour or so, General Taylor and Ethan - who apparently leads the rebel's only attack squadron - brief you on the rebel's logistical situation. Their weapons are either stolen or second-hand, and not every man even has a proper rifle. The general tells you that he's arranged for an attack on a small Federation outpost in an adjacent sector. The defenses are rather light, but the outpost does have an armory, and even the smallest Federal garrison is well-armed and equipped. You will fly the weapons out once Ethan and his squadron have battered down the outpost's defenses.

"This sounds more like ordinary shipping than smuggling," you point out. "If it's so easy, what do you need me for?"

This time Ethan is the one who answers. "The planet we want the weapons delivered to is under a blockade. You'll need to slip through that blockade without getting caught. The last two attempts failed, but we're confident that ''you'' can pull it off."

You nod absent-mindedly. Of course you can pull it off; you're the best.

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 07:19:34 GMT

MisterHand:

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 06:56:30 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'After thinking it over, you decide a steady paycheck might be a nice change of pace. Besides, smuggling supplies to the rebels sounds safer than dealing with the underworld, as …'

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Tue, 12 May 2015 06:30:54 GMT

MisterHand:

You've been smuggling too long to let some twerp playing soldier get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head - besides a piece of your own spine - is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 11:02:11 GMT

MisterHand:

It can't hurt to hear him out, so you nod. "I'm listening."

"You've probably guessed that we're short of weapons. This delivery literally saved our lives." His gratitude shows through even as he says it, and you think you're getting your first real insight into this young officer's true character. "We're prepared to pay you a lieutenant commander's salary if you'll make regular shipments to our forces here. You wouldn't be part of the rebellion, technically; more like a contractor who happens to get a military payroll." He pauses, meeting your gaze through the viewscreen with an entreating look. "Will you do it?"

The cynic in you knows that these rebels have no chance of defeating the Federation, no matter how well-armed they are. Still, the young officer's plaintive eyes touch you. You:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up|Agree to join the rebellion as a smuggler/blockade runner]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Bonus|Promise to make one more run for the rebels, but nothing else]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Look for Work:|Decide not to help the rebels any further]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 11:01:44 GMT

MisterHand:

It can't hurt to hear him out, so you nod. "I'm listening."

"You've probably guessed that we're short of weapons. This delivery literally saved our lives." His gratitude shows through even as he says it, and you think you're getting your first real insight into this young officer's true character. "We're prepared to pay you a captain's salary if you'll make regular shipments to our forces here. You wouldn't be part of the rebellion, technically; more like a contractor who happens to get a military payroll." He pauses, meeting your gaze through the viewscreen with an entreating look. "Will you do it?"

The cynic in you knows that these rebels have no chance of defeating the Federation, no matter how well-armed they are. Still, the young officer's plaintive eyes touch you. You:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up|Agree to join the rebellion as a smuggler/blockade runner]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Bonus|Promise to make one more run for the rebels, but nothing else]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Look for Work:|Decide not to help the rebels any further]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Negotiate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:54:36 GMT

MisterHand:

Between your smuggler's instincts and your woman's intuition, you think you know how to deal with this guy. You put on a stern face, mirroring his authoritative demeanor rather convincingly. "You may not have cash to pay me, but you're not getting these weapons without ''some'' kind of payment. A girl's got to make a living, you know." You casually fold your arms across your chest, pushing up your bust in a way that gives him something remarkable to look at and communicates total self-confidence on your part.

You can see the officer sizing you up with a faint smile, but he only rolls his eyes. "Give me one reason. And bear in mind that any one of these fighters is more than a match for your little hauler." As soon as he mentions them, the four fighters escorting his ship wag their wings at you menacingly.

The negotiations are taking a turn for the worse. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Challenge|Call his bluff and challenge the fighters]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Make a Deal|Offer your services long-term in exchange for payment]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give Up|Give up the weapons without a fight and leave]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:52:57 GMT

MisterHand:

You've been smuggling too long to let any twerp playing soldier get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head - besides a piece of your own spine - is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy: Rebel Base

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:51:13 GMT

MisterHand:

One of the planets in this system has recently declared its independence from the Federation. Unfortunately for them, the Federation doesn't allow that sort of thing and they have been fighting a losing battle with the Federal Navy ever since. Fortunately for them, their planet is wealthy enough to buy "used" weapons from "independent traders" like yourself. You don't really care about their cause one way or another, but the Federation doesn't treat smugglers much better than rebels so you might as well profit by their struggle. Your ship is laden with the latest in high-grade weaponry for space fighters and other combat vehicles - illegal of course, but to you that just means they are more valuable. And you know from reading the news that the rebels need them badly.

You bring your ship to a full stop near the rebel base, where a freighter and its four fighter escorts soon meet you. You answer their hail and a young man in a smart-looking uniform greets you.

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash|Cash - easy to store, easy to spend]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Discovery Data|Astronomical data - a literal wealth of knowledge]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Cross|They're not paying you]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:50:08 GMT

MisterHand:

You've been smuggling too long to let any power-tripping twerp get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head - besides a piece of your own spine - is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:49:50 GMT

MisterHand:

"TWO . . . . ONE." The rebel officer finishes his countdown, but you haven't moved or dropped your cargo. You flash him a confident smirk as you call his bluff a second time.

Less than a second later, those eight blaster cannons fire as one. You've made your last smuggling run. The last thing that goes through your head - besides a piece of your own spine - is that killing you was a really, really dumb thing to do.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:49:22 GMT

MisterHand:

"TWO . . . . ONE." The rebel officer finishes his countdown, but you haven't moved or dropped your cargo. You flash him a confident smirk as you call his bluff a second time.

Less than a second later, those eight blaster cannons fire as one. You've made your last smuggling run. The last thing that goes through your head, besides a piece of your own spine, is that killing you was a really, really dumb thing to do.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:49:02 GMT

MisterHand:

You've been smuggling too long to let any power-tripping twerp get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head, besides a piece of your own spine, is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:48:12 GMT

MisterHand:

You've been smuggling too long to let any power-tripping twerp get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head, besides that piece of your own spine, is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:47:35 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'You've been smuggling too long to let any power-tripping twerp get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and …'

You've been smuggling too long to let any power-tripping twerp get the better of you. Tapping a button on your console, you dump your crates of expensive weapons into space and detonate the charges inside, destroying them right before his eyes. "Looks like you won't be taking them after all," you reply slyly.

It turns out that those are your last words. In less than a second later, your ship is blown to pieces by eight blaster cannons. The last thing that goes through your head, besides that piece of your own spine, is that you should have thought this over a little more.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:43:14 GMT

MisterHand:

The freighter captain's voice is steady and authoritative, like he's used to giving orders. "You have weapons for us," he says matter-of-factly.

"I have your weapons," you reply icily. "That is, if you have my money."

Even on the tiny viewscreen in your cockpit, you can see a smirk on his face as he formulates his next reply. "Well, there's the rub. We spent most of our war chest on the last shipment of weapons, and bribes, and bounties, and payroll. You know, the usual expenses of running a rebellion."

You stiffen in your chair. "You better not be telling me that you have nothing to pay me."

The rebel officer's smirk turns into a sneer. "Oh, not at all. We could pay you with other goods . . . . But we're not going to. Now, I'll be taking those weapons."

It seems that dealing with this particular rebellion wasn't the smartest move on your part. You make a mental note to check up on a client's credit next time before making a delivery. Still, you haven't turned the weapons over yet. What's the plan?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Negotiate|Refuse to deliver the weapons without payment]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross|Jettison the weapons and immediately destroy them to teach them a lesson]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give Up|Give up the weapons without a fight and leave]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:41:16 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'It can't hurt to hear him out, so you nod. "I'm listening." "You've probably guessed that we're short of weapons. This delivery literally saved our lives." His gratitude sho…'

It can't hurt to hear him out, so you nod. "I'm listening."

"You've probably guessed that we're short of weapons. This delivery literally saved our lives." His gratitude shows through even as he says it, and you think you're getting your first real insight into this young officer's character. "We're prepared to pay you a captain's salary if you'll make regular shipments to our forces here. You wouldn't be part of the rebellion, technically; more like a contractor who happens to get a military payroll." He pauses, meeting your gaze through the viewscreen with an entreating look. "Will you do it?"

The cynic in you knows that these rebels have no chance of defeating the Federation, no matter how well-armed they are. Still, the young officer's plaintive eyes touch you. You:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Sign Up|Agree to join the rebellion as a smuggler/blockade runner]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Bonus|Promise to make one more run for the rebels, but nothing else]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Look for Work:|Decide not to help the rebels any further]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:29:26 GMT

MisterHand:

This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuine respect. "Lady, I like your style. You obviously know what you're worth to us." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "How does 20,000 in cash grab you?"

It looks like your hard bargaining has won him over. The posturing fighters were a test. You allow yourself to relax - not that they could tell you were ever on edge. "Cash will do nicely," you reply with a smile.

"Cash it is." The rebel officer gives the order to dump his ship's cargo, and a single container drifts free of the open hold. When you ping the container with your cargo scanner, you find that it contains 20,000 credits worth of gold! Either these rebels are loaded, or they are just really desperate to get weapons.

You deploy your cargo scoop, and in less than a minute the gold is in your hold. You also jettison the weapons crates so the fighters can clamp them for delivery to the base. Having concluded your business with the rebels, you start to turn the ship around. "A pleasure doing business with you," you warmly tell the rebel captain.

"Not so fast, dear." The rebel captain says, returning to his previous military bearing.

You hide your alarm from him, wondering if he's about to double-cross you for real this time.

"You obviously know what you're doing," he says cordially, "and now we know you can handle yourself in a sticky situation. How'd you like to do some more work for us?"

One of your personal rules is never to ignore opportunity when it knocks, but this guy is really starting to scare you. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work|Hear his offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash Payment|Politely decline and look for work elsewhere]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Flee|Run like hell while you still have a ship]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:29:11 GMT

MisterHand:

This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuine respect. "Lady, I like your style. You obviously know what you're worth to us." He cocks and eyebrow at you. "How does 20,000 in cash grab you?"

It looks like your hard bargaining has won him over. The posturing fighters were a test. You allow yourself to relax - not that they could tell you were ever on edge. "Cash will do nicely," you reply with a smile.

"Cash it is." The rebel officer gives the order to dump his ship's cargo, and a single container drifts free of the open hold. When you ping the container with your cargo scanner, you find that it contains 20,000 credits worth of gold! Either these rebels are loaded, or they are just really desperate to get weapons.

You deploy your cargo scoop, and in less than a minute the gold is in your hold. You also jettison the weapons crates so the fighters can clamp them for delivery to the base. Having concluded your business with the rebels, you start to turn the ship around. "A pleasure doing business with you," you warmly tell the rebel captain.

"Not so fast, dear." The rebel captain says, returning to his previous military bearing.

You hide your alarm from him, wondering if he's about to double-cross you for real this time.

"You obviously know what you're doing," he says cordially, "and now we know you can handle yourself in a sticky situation. How'd you like to do some more work for us?"

One of your personal rules is never to ignore opportunity when it knocks, but this guy is really starting to scare you. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work|Hear his offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash Payment|Politely decline and look for work elsewhere]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Flee|Run like hell while you still have a ship]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Challenge

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:28:08 GMT

MisterHand:

You decide to call his bluff. He needs those weapons more than he's letting on, and you know it. "Is that your ace in the hole? You brought four heavy fighters to blow up ''your own shipment of weapons''? Not only are you shitty soldiers, you're shitty businessmen too!" You lay it on thick, laughing in his face. It seems to be working, because you think he looks a bit ruffled. "Don't insult my intelligence, honey. I ''know'' you ''need'' these weapons, and I ''know'' you're not about to blow me to smithereens because I'll just be taking them with me. Now cut the crap and make me an offer before I decide to sell them to someone with a little more ''integrity''." You figure that last remark will cut him deep, since he obviously wants to be thought of as some kind of war hero.

You've definitely made an impression, because the rebel leader doesn't have anything to say to you. He just stares at something on his console, looking a little bewildered. You smirk to yourself. He thought he was totally in control, but you've shattered that illusion for him. Maybe now he will show a little respect.

After a long pause, the rebels give you their reply:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion|A better offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation|A warning shot]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Ending|A full spread of torpedoes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Choose Payment

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:27:28 GMT

MisterHand: Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Choose Payment moved to Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

#REDIRECT [[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:27:28 GMT

MisterHand: Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Choose Payment moved to Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuine respect. "Lady, I like your style. You obviously know what you're worth to us." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "So what ''are'' you asking for these little life-savers?"

It looks like your hard bargaining has won him over. The posturing fighters were a test. You allow yourself to relax - not that they could tell you were ever on edge. "Cash will do nicely," you reply with a smile.

"Cash it is." The rebel officer gives the order to dump his ship's cargo, and a single container drifts free of the open hold. When you ping the container with your cargo scanner, you find that it contains 20,000 credits worth of gold! Either these rebels are loaded, or they are just really desperate to get weapons.

You deploy your cargo scoop, and in less than a minute the gold is in your hold. You also jettison the weapons crates so the fighters can clamp them for delivery to the base. Having concluded your business with the rebels, you start to turn the ship around. "A pleasure doing business with you," you warmly tell the rebel captain.

"Not so fast, dear." The rebel captain says, returning to his previous military bearing.

You hide your alarm from him, wondering if he's about to double-cross you for real this time.

"You obviously know what you're doing," he says cordially, "and now we know you can handle yourself in a sticky situation. How'd you like to do some more work for us?"

One of your personal rules is never to ignore opportunity when it knocks, but this guy is really starting to scare you. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work|Hear his offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash Payment|Politely decline and look for work elsewhere]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Flee|Run like hell while you still have a ship]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:26:14 GMT

MisterHand:

This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuine respect. "Lady, I like your style. You obviously know what you're worth to us." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "So what ''are'' you asking for these little life-savers?"

It looks like your hard bargaining has won him over. The posturing fighters were a test. You allow yourself to relax - not that they could tell you were ever on edge. "Cash will do nicely," you reply with a smile.

"Cash it is." The rebel officer gives the order to dump his ship's cargo, and a single container drifts free of the open hold. When you ping the container with your cargo scanner, you find that it contains 20,000 credits worth of gold! Either these rebels are loaded, or they are just really desperate to get weapons.

You deploy your cargo scoop, and in less than a minute the gold is in your hold. You also jettison the weapons crates so the fighters can clamp them for delivery to the base. Having concluded your business with the rebels, you start to turn the ship around. "A pleasure doing business with you," you warmly tell the rebel captain.

"Not so fast, dear." The rebel captain says, returning to his previous military bearing.

You hide your alarm from him, wondering if he's about to double-cross you for real this time.

"You obviously know what you're doing," he says cordially, "and now we know you can handle yourself in a sticky situation. How'd you like to do some more work for us?"

One of your personal rules is never to ignore opportunity when it knocks, but this guy is really starting to scare you. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work|Hear his offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash Payment|Politely decline and look for work elsewhere]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Flee|Run like hell while you still have a ship]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Conclusion

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:24:56 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuin…'

This time there's something very warm and sincere about the rebel officer's smirk. Gone is the cocksure look of a young man on a power trip, and in its place is a look of genuine respect. "Lady, I like your style. You obviously know what you're worth to us." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "So what ''are'' you asking for these little life-savers?"

It looks like your hard bargaining has won him over. The posturing fighters were a test. You allow yourself to relax - not that they could tell you were ever on edge. "Cash will do nicely," you reply with a smile.

"Cash it is." The rebel officer gives the order to dump his ship's cargo, and a single container drifts free of the open hold. When you ping the container with your cargo scanner, you find that it contains 20,000 credits worth of gold! Either these rebels are loaded, or they are just really desperate to get weapons.

You deploy your cargo scoop, and in less than a minute the gold is in your hold. You also jettison the weapons crates so the fighters can clamp them for delivery to the base. Having concluded your business with the rebels, you start to turn the ship around. "A pleasure doing business with you," you warmly tell the rebel captain.

"Not so fast, dear." The rebel captain says, returning to his previous military bearing.

You hide your alarm from him, wondering if he's about to double-cross you for real this time.

"You obviously know what you're doing," he says steadily, "and now we know you can handle yourself in a sticky situation. How'd you like to do some more work for us?"

One of your personal rules is never to ignore opportunity when it knocks, but this guy is really starting to scare you. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:More Work|Hear his offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash Payment|Politely decline and look for work elsewhere]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Flee|Run like hell while you still have a ship]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Challenge

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 10:02:47 GMT

MisterHand:

You decide to call his bluff. He needs those weapons more than he's letting on, and you know it. "Is that your ace in the hole? You brought four heavy fighters to blow up ''your own shipment of weapons''? Not only are you shitty soldiers, you're shitty businessmen too!" You lay it on thick, laughing in his face. It seems to be working, because you think he looks a bit ruffled. "Don't insult my intelligence, honey. I ''know'' you ''need'' these weapons, and I ''know'' you're not about to blow me to smithereens because I'll just be taking them with me. Now cut the crap and make me an offer before I decide to sell them to someone with a little more ''integrity''." You figure that last remark will cut him deep, since he obviously wants to be thought of as some kind of war hero.

You've definitely made an impression, because the rebel leader doesn't have anything to say to you. He just stares at something on his console, looking a little bewildered. You smirk to yourself. He thought he was totally in control, but you've shattered that illusion for him. Maybe now he will show a little respect.

After a long pause, the rebels give you their reply:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Choose Payment|A better offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation|A warning shot]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Ending|A full spread of torpedoes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Wild Planet

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:52:21 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'A quick look at your charts, and you steer a course for the Frontera System and engage at maximum shift. You're not familiar with this system, but you've heard it's a pretty int…'

A quick look at your charts, and you steer a course for the Frontera System and engage at maximum shift. You're not familiar with this system, but you've heard it's a pretty interesting place. For a few years now the Frontera Corporation have been busy terraforming the fourth planet, which has a large iron core and a thick crust of silicon and magnesium. It has abundant surface water, and it orbits a G-type main sequence star at a distance of around 500 light-seconds. Needless to say, this is pretty damned close to Earth, the human homeworld. Frontera Corp. is working to make it even closer, enriching the nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere and introducing various hardy Earth species like moss, lichens, grasses, fir trees, and herds of deer and bison. The star is a bit dimmer than the sun, and the atmosphere a bit thicker, which means the planet is quite cold and windy. To you it sounds a bit like Canada or Alaska, and you decide to take a little trek on the planet if they'll let you.

Disaster in Space/Amy:Stealthy Landing (Manual)

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:37:06 GMT

MisterHand:

Fortunately, this isn't the first sneaky landing you've made, and you know all the tricks. First, you wait for the night watch when traffic is low and the largest number of landing pads are vacant. Second, you approach to a hair over ten kilometers, just outside the range of the station's automated sensors. Third, you point your ship towards a less busy part of the station so you can get there without the need for large course corrections. Fourth, you power down the non-essential systems on your ship to reduce your thermal and EM signature, to make it harder for patrolling fighters to detect you.

Now for the hard part. You fire your thrusters and the ''Vega'' lurches towards the station, on the heading you pre-steered before powering down. Then you power down the thrusters too! You are dead in the water - no engines, no communications, no sensors, no shields, no navigation. You also have no life support, which is why you can see the vapor of your breath as you exhale into the now freezing cockpit. The only things turned on are your landing gear and the heaters that keep your thrusters from freezing.

You see a few patrol craft, but they don't see you. Your running lights are off, and the ''Vega'' now has the heat signature of a moderately large and shiny piece of space debris. You smirk at your own cleverness as the ship's inertia carries you all the way to the landing pad.

With only 100 meters to go, you re-ignite your thrusters again to bring the ship to a stop and touch down on the pad. Perfect! No one has seen you arrive; and on a station this busy, no one is going to bother to check if you're supposed to be here.

You restore normal power to the ship, and your cockpit becomes comfortable to sit in again. You also lower the ramp and loading elevators so you can get to work selling your cargo. How are you going to get it off the ship and get paid ''on the station'' without getting caught, anyway?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Disguise|You have disguised it as an official delivery by labeling the crates "PARTS" in government stencil]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Rendezvous|You have already arranged for some workers to meet you on the pad and buy the goods]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Delivery:Improvise|Actually, you are making the plan up as you go]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:33:51 GMT

MisterHand:

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and form a circle around you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a duet of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss (but couldn't be more than a minute), Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being passed around like a whore! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:33:24 GMT

MisterHand:

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and form a circle around you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a duet of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss (but couldn't be more than a minute), Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being passed around like a whore! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:32:01 GMT

MisterHand:

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and form a circle around you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a duet of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss (but couldn't be more than a minute), Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being shared! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:30:35 GMT

MisterHand:

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and form a circle around you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a duet of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss, Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being shared! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:29:27 GMT

MisterHand:

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and form a circle around you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a chorus of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss, Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being shared! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 09:28:52 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his sho…'

Just as you are wetting your lips to go down on that monster cock, the door to your suite opens and two more men in gray overalls walk in on you. Earl looks at them over his shoulder with a knowing grin and a wink, and the three of them have a good laugh as the newcomers each hand Earl a wad of credit notes. Apparently Earl has won some sort of bet.

"Amy darlin', I think I love you. These two didn't think you'd get undressed for me in ten minutes, but I guess money talks, eh?" Actually, the second remark stings just a little. You feel like his huge cock and your own libido had more to do with it than the money, but you decide you'd better not share that little detail before they pay you!

Seeing you blush a deeper red, the men laugh and circle you, towering over your half-naked, kneeling form. Earl breaks the silence with a low growl, full of anticipation and wild arousal: "Well gents, I guess it's my honor, eh?"

Without another word, Earl rests his meaty hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock. Without even thinking, you part your lips so that they slide down the first few inches of his length, making a tight seal against the thick veiny shaft that makes your wet lips drag against it, with your tongue sliding down the more sensitive underside. Earl responds with a low growl. "Orgh, yes ma'am! I knew you'd have a tidy mouth on ya!"

As you go down on Earl's huge dick, you are half-aware of the other two guys unzipping their jeans on your left and right, pulling out their own organs and starting to stroke them. You want to get a good look at both of them, but Earl's tool in your mouth and his hand in your hair makes it hard to get more than a little peek in your peripheral vision. As Earl gives your head another little push, you go with the flow, opening your jaw a bit wider and swallowing another couple inches. You can taste his precum now, mixing with your saliva to form that frothy, salty mixture that you know you'll be tasting a lot of in the near future.

As if linked telepathically, the other two men each take a step towards you. Maybe it's the dick in your mouth or the sopping wet thong sticking to your pussy, but you know just what to do. Reaching up and feeling around, you grab a dick in each hand, taking over the job of stroking them to a chorus of welcoming grunts and growls. You purr with delight, basking in your slutty glory as the three men make you the center of their universe. You widen your jaw some more, easing your head down Earl's full length until your lips brush against his balls. You are deepthroating an eight-inch cock now! Your parents would be so proud.

Reflexively, Earl tightens his hold on your hair, pushing the head of his cock right against the back of your throat and making you gag. With his helpful grip on your hair, you manage to keep your mouth in place as he fucks your throat, the frothy white precum leaking from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to breath through your nose. You feel like you're swallowing his dick whole, and it feels wonderful to you as the other two easily fill your hands.

After what seems like an hour of dreamy bliss, Earl pulls out of your throat all at once - so fast that your head is tossed back slightly. You sputter and cough, trying to catch your breath as the precum dribbles from your lower lip. You realize you are flushed and dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but it hasn't made you let up on the other two dicks, stroking them like a real pro to the delight of the two men.

Again, Earl breaks the silence and snaps you out of your slutty trance. "Your turn, Mikey. I think she's ready for ya." You blink, and realize that you're being shared! It's all you can do not to moan with delight as Mike takes Earl's place in front of you.

Mike resumes stroking his cock, leering down at you in your matching black lace undies. You soon find out what's next:

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Blowjob|Mike fucks your throat]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Mike Pussy|Mike fucks your pussy]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Shipyard Lodging:Gangbang:Foursome|Mike shares your holes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:50:07 GMT

MisterHand:

Suddenly, one of the fighters looses a single blaster bolt at your ship, causing your shields to erupt. As the alarm sounds in your cockpit, you realize that you are still alive and it was only a warning shot. The fighter's weapons weren't primed with enough energy to damage your ship substantially, though you get the message loud and clear: A real attack from just one fighter would be enough to batter down your shields and kill you instantly. On your monitor, the smug face of the rebel officer re-appears.

"Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, ''honey''?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . "

It's decision time again. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade ''something'' for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate|Call his bluff a second time]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give up|Jettison your cargo and fly away on the heading you came from]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Persuade|Talk some sense into him]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:48:56 GMT

MisterHand:

"TWO . . . . ONE." The rebel officer finishes his countdown, but you haven't moved or dropped your cargo. You flash him a confident smirk as you call his bluff a second time.

Less than a second later, those eight blaster cannons fire as one. You've made your last smuggling run. The last thing that goes through your head, besides that piece of your own spine, is that killing you was a really, really dumb thing to do.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:48:40 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with '"TWO . . . . ONE." The rebel officer finishes his countdown, but you haven't moved or dropped your cargo. You flash him a confident smirk as you call his bluff a second time. …'

"TWO . . . . ONE." The rebel officer finishes his countdown, but you haven't moved or dropped your cargo. You flash him a confident smirk as you call his bluff a second time.

Less than a second later, those eight blaster cannons fire as one. You've made your last smuggling run. The last thing that goes through your head, besides that piece of your own spine, is that killing you was a really dumb thing to do.

'''GAME OVER'''

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:37:51 GMT

MisterHand:

Suddenly, one of the fighters looses a single blaster bolt at your ship, causing your shields to erupt. As the alarm sounds in your cockpit, you realize that you are still alive and it was only a warning shot. The fighter's weapons weren't primed with enough energy to damage your ship substantially, though you get the message loud and clear: A real attack from just one fighter would be enough to batter down your shields and kill you instantly. On your monitor, the smug face of the rebel officer re-appears.

"Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, ''honey''?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . "

It's decision time. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade ''something'' for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate|Call his bluff a second time]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give up|Jettison your cargo and fly away on the heading you came from]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Persuade|Talk some sense into him]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:36:48 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'Suddenly, one of the fighters looses a single blaster bolt at your ship, causing your shields to erupt. As the alarm sounds in your cockpit, you realize it was only a warning sh…'

Suddenly, one of the fighters looses a single blaster bolt at your ship, causing your shields to erupt. As the alarm sounds in your cockpit, you realize it was only a warning shot. The fighter's weapons weren't primed with enough energy to damage your ship substantially, though you get the message loud and clear: A real attack from just one fighter would be enough to batter down your shields and kill you instantly. On your monitor, the smug face of the rebel officer re-appears.

"Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, ''honey''?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . "

It's decision time. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade ''something'' for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate|Call his bluff a second time]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give up|Jettison your cargo and fly away on the heading you came from]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Persuade|Talk some sense into him]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Challenge

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 08:17:43 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'You decide to call his bluff. He needs those weapons more than he's letting on, and you know it. "Is that your ace in the hole? You brought four heavy fighters to blow up ''yo…'

You decide to call his bluff. He needs those weapons more than he's letting on, and you know it. "Is that your ace in the hole? You brought four heavy fighters to blow up ''your own shipment of weapons''? Not only are you shitty soldiers, you're shitty businessmen too!" You lay it on thick, laughing in his face. It seems to be working, because you think he looks a bit ruffled. "Don't insult my intelligence, honey. I ''know'' you ''need'' these weapons, and I ''know'' you're not about to blow me to smithereens if I take them with me. Now cut the crap and make me an offer before I decide to sell them to someone with a little more ''integrity''." You figure that last remark will cut him deep, since he obviously wants to be thought of as some kind of war hero.

You've definitely made an impression, because the rebel leader doesn't have anything to say to you. He just stares at something on his console, looking a little bewildered. You smirk to yourself. He thought he was totally in control, but you've shattered that illusion for him. Maybe now he will show a little respect.

After a long pause, the rebels give you their reply:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Choose Payment|A better offer]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation|A warning shot]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Ending|A full spread of torpedoes]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Negotiate

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 07:53:47 GMT

MisterHand: Created page with 'Between your smuggler's instincts and your woman's intuition, you think you know how to deal with this guy. You put on a stern face, mirroring his authoritative demeanor rather …'

Between your smuggler's instincts and your woman's intuition, you think you know how to deal with this guy. You put on a stern face, mirroring his authoritative demeanor rather convincingly. "You may not have cash to pay me, but you're not getting these weapons without ''some'' kind of payment. A girl's got to make a living, you know." You casually fold your arms across your chest, pushing up your bust in a way that gives him something to look at and communicates total self-confidence on your part.

You can see the officer sizing you up with a faint smile, but he only rolls his eyes. "Give me one reason. And bear in mind that any one of these fighters is more than a match for your little hauler." As soon as he mentions them, the four fighters escorting his ship wag their wings at you menacingly.

The negotiations are taking a turn for the worse. You decide to:

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Challenge|Call his bluff and challenge the fighters]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Make a Deal|Offer your services long-term in exchange for payment]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give Up|Give up the weapons without a fight and leave]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy: Rebel Base

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 07:38:31 GMT

MisterHand:

One of the planets in this system has recently declared its independence from the Federation. Unfortunately for them, the Federation doesn't allow that sort of thing and they have been fighting a losing battle with the Federal Navy ever since. Fortunately for them, their planet is wealthy enough to buy "used" weapons from "independent traders" like yourself. You don't really care about their cause one way or another, but the Federation doesn't treat smugglers much better than rebels so you might as well profit by their struggle. Your ship is laden with the latest in high-grade weaponry for space fighters and other combat vehicles - illegal of course, but to you that just means they are more valuable. And you know from reading the news that the rebels need them badly.

You bring your ship to a full stop near the rebel base, where a freighter and its three fighter escorts soon meet you. You answer their hail and a young man in a smart-looking uniform greets you.

How are they paying you?
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Cash|Cash - easy to store, easy to spend]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Discovery Data|Astronomical data - a literal wealth of knowledge]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Cross|They're not paying you]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]

Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Cross

MisterHand — Mon, 11 May 2015 07:38:17 GMT

MisterHand:

The uniformed officer's voice is steady and authoritative, like he's used to giving orders. "You have weapons for us," he says matter-of-factly.

"I have your weapons," you reply icily. "That is, if you have my money."

Even on the tiny viewscreen in your cockpit, you can see a smirk on his face as he formulates his next reply. "Well, there's the rub. We spent most of our war chest on the last shipment of weapons, and bribes, and bounties, and payroll. You know, the usual expenses of running a rebellion."

You stiffen in your chair. "You better not be telling me that you have nothing to pay me."

The rebel officer's smirk turns into a sneer. "Oh, not at all. We could pay you with other goods . . . . But we're not going to. Now, I'll be taking those weapons."

It seems that dealing with this particular rebellion wasn't the smartest move on your part. You make a mental note to check up on a client's credit next time before making a delivery. Still, you haven't turned the weapons over yet. What's the plan?

*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Negotiate|Refuse to deliver the weapons without payment]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Double-Double-Cross|Jettison the weapons and immediately destroy them to teach them a lesson]]
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Give Up|Give up the weapons without a fight and leave]]

[[Category: Disaster in Space]]