Operation Handshake

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Alrik Vas
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Joined: Tue Mar 19, 2013 8:20 pm
Comment: Don't waste your time gloating over a wounded enemy. Pull the damn trigger.
Location: Right behind you.

Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

In this story, we see Alrik as a beginner (talented and lucky, but a beginner). It's his first assignment as a professional. Don't mind the comedy at the end. :P

Spoiler:
OPERATION HANDSHAKE

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

First real mission. Kincaid’s Crew, small merc band. They grab me, Alrik, just seventeen and looking for glory, as one of many extra rifles. Job is to hold a ridge from Tannen’s Hand, up and coming private army lookin’ to beat out Larson’s Brigade in local contracts.

Ridge over Richdale, farming community, home to some operator with an experimental particle beam weapon. More punch than a tank, infantry portable. NG backs Tannen, they want the tech. The town held against infiltration, now they send in the guns and Kincaid’s been hired to hold them off. Operator’s experiments are in a large underground lab, too big to haul out quick, need to buy time to evac him and his gear, townies want to get out too. Easy job.

My unit is in the woods below the ridge, first line. Use the green guys for the messy job. I don’t mind, need the money, need the rep. Along the ridge are rock-crete pillboxes and sand bags, heavy weapons support. Mortar teams further back, Samson power armor and Sky Kings ready to deploy, got a Flying Titan on relief.
I’m on scout duty, watching from the forest below the ridge with the rest of the team. JA-11 with HEAP 7.62, pulse mod for the ion blaster, Wilk’s 320 with overcharge feature, vibro knife, one chaff grenade, one frag, wearing huntsman light, camo painted. Fitted and kitted. Waiting while Dern surveys with his multi-optics mags. Guy’s a big grackletooth, can barely hide behind the fallen tree we’re using as cover.

Corporal Tath, elf moving like a jungle cat, slinks over and passes the word. Enemy approaching. Roger that, weapons hot.

Forest and trail is laid with mines, hopscotch party. Dern keeps scanning, I set up with the JA-11, passing the x10 magnification over the area ahead.

Dust cloud. Bingo.

“You see’m, kid?”

I nod, spotting player one through the haze. Gladiator armor, NG-IP7, huffing next to a WI-APC. He and his pals are a klick away, the APC’s speed up, battle tanks come out of the curtain of earth from behind.

Tac-net beeps, “Rodeo, saddle up. Execute on trumpet.” Snipers pick your targets, open fire when the missiles are inbound.

“Rodeo 3, copy”, Dern sends back.

Line up my shot on player one, just like the big guy told me. Crappy aim won’t take his hat off, but most cheap armor doesn’t have a collar guard, find the joint and focus the whole line in one spot. Get a kill.

Stillness, breath synched with barrel wobble, crosshairs dancing in rhythm with the target’s gait. Feels right.

“Trumpet, I say again Rodeo, trumpet sounded!”

Squeeze fifteen mega-joules of death down the barrel, the beam sets a nearby tree on fire, instant contact with player one’s neck, white-hot metal, sparks fly. Shack on the target. Player one down.

“Atta boy”, Dern growls. “Let’s move.”

We get to our feet and change position as the attacking force is flooded with sniper fire, their troopers move to the edge of the woods and the APC’s angle 30mm cannons to suppress. We keep running, they’re hosed and they don’t even know it. Just as the enemy takes cover, the missiles hit. Blinding flash, the rush of air nearly knocks us down and the boughs of trees catch fire.

Sixty meters down the way we hit the ground again and Dern crawls around the side of a burning tree, looking for targets. I get the signal and line up on the other side.

“Eight hundred meters, six degrees right relative. Confirm?”

“Roger that”, a seven-man pile of slag burns there, but two other shapes move, helping each other through the heat.

“Wait one”, Dern cautions. The targets stagger on and a shot goes through them both, then a massive blue-white beam of death answers from the enemy, sending half the forest up in flames.

Sweeping my scope, I spot the bad news. Wellington main battle tank rolls over the remains of the APC’s, hull mounted particle beam turning the forest into an inferno.
“Steady”, Dern says from behind his multi-optics.

The tank advances swiftly, taking fire from the snipers, it unleashes a grenade barrage and surges along the road, right into the mines. The ground shakes and a piece of the tread flies, cuts down a tree. The guns keep firing, but the tank’s stuck. Enemy troopers move up to use it for cover.

“Three corpses inbound”, Dern tells me.

“Copy that”, line up the shot. Let’s go digging for flesh. First snap of the laser is bad, dings off a helmet and they back away. Switch to ion-pulse and lay down fire, manage to clip one in the leg, his friends drag him to cover.

“On the move”, Dern orders. I put two more pulses into the area to keep them suppressed then follow.

“Rodeo, this is Gunsight”, the tac-net crackles. “Corral, I repeat order corral.”

Time to bug out. As Dern and I run the Sky Kings approach from an attack vector.

A klick later, we’ve cleared the top of the ridge. Mortars are working full time, one CP-40L is swapping barrels while the other grinds our ears with the supersonic crack.

“Rodeo 3 in the corral”, Dern sends over the tac-net.

“Roger, Rodeo 3, provide support to Wild Arm, repeat support Wild Arm. Engage enemy skirmishers on the range.”

“Rodeo 3, copy.” Dern changed direction north, “Let’s go kid, cattle rustlers.”

The whole operation really fit Dern’s stupid hat.

Run another klick, end up on the range.

Grey Falcon whoops overhead, enemy gunship hurling missiles at the hills, sending our guys running. Dern and I saddle up with the rest of Rodeo, eight men, lightly armed. Tath orders us toward the shrub while the Falcon’s 55mm turns the men ahead of us into pulp. Seeing the guys from Wild Arm come apart, stomach starts to clinch up, feels like my guts are about to drop out of my armor.

“Move it, kid!” Dern shouts.

Keep it together, Alrik.

We hit the dirt as the gunship flies over us. Tath is on the horn, “Sky Fire, this is Rodeo, enemy gunship pinning Wild Arm, need assistance on the Range!”

“Copy, Rodeo. Inbound.”

Tath turns to the rest of us. “Say close, we’ll head around to the flank and draw enemy fire, go!”

Before I can worry about getting my tail shot off, I’m up and running like the rest of the idiots. Crossing the area along the hill we take fire, ion pulses, lasers and particle beams kick up dirt, send heat warnings through the EBA’s systems. One rodeo clown takes a hit to the helmet, sparks in my vision and I trip down the hill after him.
Can hear Dern yelling for me, but I can’t stop. Just over the noise of rolling comes the whistle of incoming mortar fire. Foot of the hill, get my feet under me and check on the downed scout, helmet’s slagged, melting his face, molten alloy digs through his skull. Have to pull my helmet off before I drink my own vomit.

Stuck bent over, heaving it out. Damn it, Alrik. You’re supposed to be better than this. Get it out and move. Hot air burns my face, the side-effects of the modern battlefield. Wipe the grit from my mouth, shove my head back in my helmet, hear the tac-net.

“Evac on the range! Medic, damn it, medic!”

Grab my rifle and struggle up the hill, get to the top as the gunship finishes another pass and see smoldering remains. Tath is d-bee puree, three other Rodeos are bits and pieces. Dern’s hat flutters by me but I see one last scout over his body. Crawl over and Rodeo hears me, whips their rifle up. Sees one of the unit and checks her fire.

“You a fixer?”

“Negative.”

“I stuck him with an Auto-Doc”, she tells me. “Can’t move him though, too heavy.”

“What happened to our air support?”

Shake of the head. “SRM’s hit, but there was no second pass. Saw a pair of Predators, enemy.”

I look below, see AFV’s and buggies moving toward town.

“We’ve lost”, she says. “We need to withdraw.”

“Hell with that.”

Before we can argue the tac-net chirps again, “All units, hold pattern omega. Repeat, hold pattern omega.”

I stand up, “See? Recall order. Kincaid’s got a plan.”


PART 2

Working together we’re able to move Dern’s heavy grackle-butt on the collapsing stretcher our medic had. Hustling we managed to avoid fire, taking out a couple of evacs while there are shooting targets is a waste. Get into Richdale, see VTOL transports. One Sky King is ready to move, no sign of the other. The Titan is badly damaged with empty missile racks. Kincaid is there, talking to commanders.

“Where’s Rodeo team?” he barks.

“Here, boss.” We walk up.

He looks at me and the only other scout left and nods like approval, maybe resigned acceptance.

“You’re on the south side with Bronco, I don’t want anything getting through until we have clear air space for evac. Is that understood?”

“Check. What’s our disengage?”

He turns to everyone present, “Sidewinder is order for retreat. Rally for evac at point Rattler, are we clear?”

“Check!” everyone responds.

“Good, now get moving and stay alive.”

“Yessir!” and we break back into assigned groups.

“We’re going to get our tails shot off”, the other Rodeo tells me as we make south.

“You got a tail to lose, sister?”

“You’re one funny merc. You learn comedy at the academy instead of shooting?”

“They say death is easy, comedy’s hard, right? You didn’t?”

Shake of the helmet, “I’m definitely going to die today.”

***

Tanner’s forces regrouped to focus their attack while we retreated. Rodeo Girl and I support Bronco team, heavy infantry. Girl’s not a sniper, so she’s playing spotter for me from the building across the street while I’m set up in a small rockcrete shop, next to the collapsed remains of the largest building on the south side.

Bronco leader, headhunter, Mack, tough and old as they come. Sitting pretty for a bit, then hear Sky Fire team steak off to fight for air superiority. Enemy must be closing in.

“Movement, check range.”

“350m, just a dust cloud, negative contact.”

“Eyes on the prize, ladies", Mack comms. "The attack will come from due south.” The net squeaks. “Rodeo 3, come in.”

I respond. “Rodeo 3, go.”

“Watch that cloud. If anything twitches funny I want it lit up.”

“Copy.” Change over to Rodeo net, “Catch that?”

“Loud and clear, shifting position for a better view.”

Moments pass and the tac-net comes alive with combat orders on the west side. Boom-boom we all fall down. Dust shakes off the ceiling, stay steady, stay on the cloud ahead.

“Contact front!” comes over the net, I don’t turn, but I know the sound of an NE-200, spent cartridges litter the ground behind Bronco team’s cover.

“Hover tank! Get that FAF up here! Focus fire, drop the shield and slam it!”

The shaking and noise start to leave me as I’m riding the stillness through the scope. The slag of the building next to my perch is hot, hit by the tank’s big gun, but I keep on it.

“Movement”, Rodeo Girl reports. “Twenty degrees south, 200m.”

I sweep the scope and hit maginification. Through the dust cloud come three figures running like juicers, have to be going 60kph. Too big for even druggies, too shiny. Then I spot the tell-tale skeletal helmet of a Manhunter ‘borg chassis, see the heavy rail guns. JA-11 won’t even **** them off, but I got my orders.

Flick on the tac-net, “Bronco, Rodeo 3. Contact southwest, combat ‘borgs.”

“Engage, engage!”

“I’ve got a TX-5, I can help when they close in”, I hear Rodeo Girl say.

“Roger that.” Shot lined up on the leader, straight beam, aiming for the NG-202. Red light cuts the air, direct hit, see the weapon heat up and the ‘borg stops, then breaks behind his friend who launches grenades at my perch.

Duck and pray.

Frag’s pepper the front of the building, but the structure holds. No rounds in my hide-hole, live another moment. Get up and run out of the room to thicker cover as rail gun rings shred the front of the building. A round deflects off the calf of my armor and I tumble down as debris crashes on top of me. Trapped like a rat.
I still hear shooting, not all of it the rail gun. Try to get out from under the rubble but I’m buried. I can hear Rodeo Girl on the radio, asking me to respond.

“Little busy.”

Then I hear a scream that’s cut off too fast. Working hard I use the tensile strength of my armor as leverage and manage to get the largest piece off me. Sitting up I can’t find my rifle but I find two ‘borgs easy enough. They’re laying fire into Bronco team from out in the open, taking hits with a grin. The third is tossing Rodeo Girl’s body away, vibro blade still wet with her insides.

The hack n’ slash ‘borg rushes into Bronco’s team, moves too fast for the machinegunner and cleaves his head off. I’m stuck just blinking. Never even seen a full conversion ‘borg. Shrugging hits like a tank, dealing death like a god of war. How the hell do you stop something like that?

Mack the Hunter comes up, heavy plasma ejector, slags the fighting borg’s vibro blade. Choppy bits extends a second but Mack dodges, ditching his heavy and shakes the borg’s hand with a pair of vibro-claws. Sparks fly, but even he can’t go through that heavy armor. The mech-man bowls Mack over, using its weight to pin him down and stabs like a jackhammer.

I still can’t move. This isn’t a battle, skill can’t outdo this. Talent can’t make up for that kind of advantage, experience doesn’t mean crap when you compare it to strength, speed and armor like that.

The other ‘borgs move in, misting the rest of Bronco team with arm mounted pulse lasers. One of them crushes a skull still inside the helmet just for kicks.
What the hell do I do?


PART 3

One of the ‘borgs turns, sees me and suddenly I can move. Move or die. Stand and run, but go for Rodeo Girl’s body. Laser pulses melt the rubble around me, but I make it, leg is killing me the whole way. The round that tripped me up must have rattled my calf through the armor, feels sprained, maybe fractured. I snatch the TX-5 pump while the borg’s pulse gun cycles and then beat feet behind another building.

“Gunsight, Rodeo 3, come in!” I call command.

“Make it quick Rodeo.”

“South side is overrun, cyborg soldiers. Bronco is down.”

“Understood. Sidewinder, Rodeo. Repeat, Sidewinder.”

“Copy that.”

Done all I can in this hell hole. Time to live.

Turn to go, wall to my left explodes, brick and mortar fly in every direction as the manhunter ‘borg comes through. Debris hits me in the helmet, knocks me back but I keep my feet and raise the pump pistol.

Suck on this.

I get three micro grenades off, each hit stalling death for a moment, but the ‘borg is the grinning reaper like his helmet. Failure washes over me. Just give it up. His vibro-blade extends, coming for the neck joint in my armor but to my surprise I duck and spin past him. Survive, damn it. I drop my chaff grenade behind me and give it everything I’ve got, stabbing pains in my leg as wild laser pulses fly past me the whole way.

Cross the street, headed northeast, need to exit the battlefield. I hear the crunch of a building behind me, dare a look over my shoulder and see the manhunter closing in. He’s booking it with everything he has, closing the gap on me quick.

Come to a halt, aim and fire while I have room. Pump the last two grenades at him, he doesn’t care, but good. Aiming for his helmet. The first knocks his head right, the second knocks it back and he almost loses his balance. Ditch the pistol, quick draw the Wilk’s. 320, weak sauce, but overcharge is a poor man’s pulse. Flick the fire select and squeeze half a magazine into his head.

The beam carves an angry scar across his helmet, melts off the bottom, exposing fried synth-flesh and he’s now on top of me, a giant servo-powered skull-crushing hand coming for my helmet.

I don’t duck, see his vibro-blade coming in low, dance to the side out of his reach but trip. He spins to come down on me and I put the rest of the charge into his face. Helmet slag, melts the synth off his head, showing me a charred, boiled visage.

Then the hand closes down on my helmet. He picks me up, the vibro-blade hums the song of death and his cyber-face grins.

“Not bad, kid. Not good enough, but not bad.”

He reaches back in time to shove the blade through the bottom of my helmet. Good plan. Gives me time to arm my frag grenade. High explosive joy ride. I go flying, he goes to the ground. Not the last time I'd pull that trick.

Tumble and roll, struggle to my feet but my leg’s finally had it, barely standing. Breast plate is a warped modern art sculpture. Doubt it could take another hit.

“I’ve had it with you”, the ‘borg says as he rises.

“If you’re giving up, I’ll let you go”, I say and draw my vibro-knife.

I can see his eyes analyzing me. They dilate and focus, looking at my stance, the quality of my knife, condition of my armor. Heart rate as well, I bet he was as surprised as me to find that it was only mildly elevated. I felt calm and comfortable right then, ready to greet death no matter who she came for.

“Actually”, the ‘borg laughs. “I’m starting to like you.”

I smirk, but he can’t see it through my helmet.

“Arstad”, he stabs a thumb at his chest.

“Alrik.”

Arstad nods. “If you live, come find me. I’d like to work with a guy like you.”

I don’t even get to ask, he just trots away. What the hell?


PART 4
Escape, limping the whole way. Luck, the gods, irony; they all conspire so I can live. Make it to Point Rattler and my calm is gone, shaking like a mega-junkie on last call. Faces of the defeated everywhere, but I keep it together, find Wild Arm’s sergeant. Tells me that the VTOL made successful evac. Tanner’s men are in pursuit but Kincaid out-foxed them, the aircraft is a decoy. The techie and his data were taken out via teleportation scroll, the lab was rigged to blow.

“Then what the hell did our guys die for?”

He looks at me evenly. “You don’t ask questions, grunt. Dig?”

I’m outta this loser outfit. Dern healed, grackles are tough as they come. He didn’t understand the job either, but he’s a long-termer, not comin’ with me. Says when his contract's up, if I’m still alive, to come find him.

“Can do.”

Collect my pay, move along.

***

Years later, Operation Dead Lift is over, got Reloaded, fought at Newtown, Tolkeen and every small time fort and burg from the CS to the Baronies. Fixed armor, new mesh-weave long coat, feeling like a million credits. Stomp through muddy streets on the outskirts of Merc Town, wander into a bar called Wood’s End. Perched like a couple of old cows at the bar are a hunk of rotting hardware and a burly, leather and scale hide d-bee. Stand in at the stool between them and order a beer.

“I still say the CS shouldn’t have ever won that war”, the ‘borg says. “How do a bunch of fleshies fight all that magic?”

The d-bee groans. “And I’m tellin’ you, the Tolkies never had a chance, they were outnumbered and the CS had every resource to spare when they saddled up with FQ. Ain’t hard. Numbers, rust-bucket.”

My beer slides along the cracked bar to my hand, down a quarter of it in two gulps.

“No way”, the ‘borg contends. “The mages had demons, made of fire, lasers are useless against that kind of thing, I tell ya.”

Dern grumbles, “Would you listen to yourself? Demons were the problem! Most of Tolkeen’s support left when they allied with them. Everyone knows the Demon Ambush at Quebec was the turning point in the war, got humanity squared away. Too bad, but that’s the way it goes.”

“Now just a second”, Arstad starts, but I cut him off.

“The CS won because the mages were stupid. They could have left whenever they wanted, could have mass teleported to outflank them, could have brought plagues on the CS farmlands, but they chickened out. Their leadership lost the war, not magic.” I toss back half my beer. “A weapon’s only as good as the operator.”

Arstad pops a cigar out of the compartment in his leg. He doesn’t wear a new face, same metal skull under the synth-skin I burned away years ago. He lights it with a flicker-flame in his thumb and puffs, shrugging.

“Fine, whatever. Good to see ya, kid.”

Dern salutes with his beer, gives me a toothy grackle-grin.

I light a cig and do the lean, feeling comfortable for the first time in a long while.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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say652
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by say652 »

Awesome
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The Oh So Amazing Nate
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by The Oh So Amazing Nate »

Well told. Bonus points to the GM for the combat borg letting you live and not turning you into meaty merc paste.
Look upon me and tremble ye masses. For I am The Necroposter!
keir451 wrote:Amazing Nate; Thanks for your support!

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The Oh So Amazing Nate!

Nate, you sir win the internet for today! You've definitely earned the "oh so amazing" part of your name today. :lol:
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Alrik Vas
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

I was pretty happy with that too.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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Lao Tzume
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Lao Tzume »

As always, Nice Job Alrik.
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say652
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by say652 »

Out of curiosity what level is Alric?
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Alrik Vas
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

I made it to 15 before I stopped playing. I like to dust him off when I can. It's fun to cheat death as a human.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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say652
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by say652 »

Nice. Are you going to duel class as a mage or a borg? When PowerSurge hits level 15 his ps will be 66. Right now I just made level-2. Yay. Lol
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Alrik Vas
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

I'd love to do demon queller ...though it wouldn't fit, I'll probably not advance though. Tons of exp and technically the levels don't pass 15 for mortals.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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say652
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by say652 »

I would imagine. If I'm right you would start at level one in the new occ. Maybe do a final adventure to find the demon quellar trainer. Old school train in week 1980's style.
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Alrik Vas
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

Well, in all honesty, the character isn't really the one I'm writing. The story version it's stripped down to make things exciting, because when I made the character, he was actually a worldly martial artist, I played games with him as a child soldier. He was trained in N&SS forms and was naturally a major psionic. At level 3 I swapped into special forces mercenary but spent OCC skills to keep the martial arts.

We didn't have a good handle on conversions as kids, we also didn't like the way it was done much. So we decided to mix and match ninjas with rifts Japan. In games the character could use chi-gung and have like 400 MDC and could deal out mega damage punches and kicks with martial art powers.

So, in the end, I decided to tell these stories as if he were a normal human, as they were more interesting that way. I still couldn't take a mega damage hit unless I used an action to prep, but normal amounts of damage weren't that scary. So you can see why I went with this format. I honestly don't remember the games all that clearly as they happened over a decade ago anyway.

If I got the chance to play him for real again, I'd much prefer this more "by the book" version, personally.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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say652
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by say652 »

Cool. I think temporal warrior would be a better idea. Amphib mystic ninja. Level 15. Warp it Temporal warrior level 5. Boom. Human looking. Some cyber upgrades. Tons of sdc. Change it mdc. And sick ninja skills n magic
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Alrik Vas
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Re: Operation Handshake

Unread post by Alrik Vas »

Seems badass, but goes beyond what I'd intended.
Mark Hall wrote:Y'all seem to assume that Palladium books are written with the same exacting precision with which they are analyzed. I think that is... ambitious.

Talk from the Edge: Operation Dead Lift, Operation Reload, Operation Human Devil, Operation Handshake, Operation Windfall 1, Operation Windfall 2, Operation Sniper Wolf, Operation Natural 20
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