(GURPS) - BLACK OPS - Trainee Hour

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

Welcome to the main page of Black Ops, here the main plot will develop, all things said and done here will be considered cannon.



We’ll follow the basic Character Creation rules of GURPS 4th edition, that means you star with 100 points to spend. You must have 3 advantages and 3 disadvantages, no more no less. Also, you’re getting a Special Advantage unique to your PC, for free!

The main flow of the game will consist of 4 steps.

• Narration: In this step I’ll describe the scenery, the relevant NPC and various other bits of info.
• Action: Here is where the PCs act, narrating what they’re going to do, and how they will do it, in this step you can start a conversation, interact with an PC or NPC, or announce any type of action whether it requires or not a Dice Throw. Everyone gets 1 action, and 1 Reaction. You can use your reaction to help or interrupt a player, this will usually come with a roll and will stop you from finishing your action, if the reaction is taken after the action that is (Short sentences might be said, or minor, quick movements done). Once you said what you’re going to do, it’s permanent. (Unless you misunderstood something, or I said something wrong, in that case we can roll back the story a bit)
• Dice Roll: I’ll assign a roll to each Action/Reaction and set the bonuses and difficulties accordingly. At this step, the PCs will roll 3d6, if the roll consists of an attack the PC will also roll the damage of said attack.
• Outcome: I’ll narrate the outcome of each action/reaction, and the response of the environment/NPCs/PCs.

Most scenes will require little to none dice rolls, focusing mainly on RP. Combat and crucial points in the main plot will require more throws.

I’ll narrate in third person, while the players will talk and act in first person through their PCs. If they want to add something out of character, they will use “OOC -“.

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

Monday, January 8, 2082. South of Denver, UCAS.

The alarm clock comes to life, breaking silence of the room; the Soykaf machine hisses in response. After a couple of seconds, the smart-glass becomes almost transparent, showering the apartment with dim warm light.

The apartment, plain and practical, consisted of a single room, a dinner-kitchen, a living room, and moderately sized bathroom. Ivar got the single bedroom, mostly because Kahmed’s legs hanged off the bed when straight; he got the sofa-bed instead. You don’t know much about each other, you’ve been living together for a week now and due to the harsh training of this month you didn’t have much time or energy left for fraternizing.

Today’s routine was simple, get up, go to the combat drill and get back in one piece.

 

[Buckteeth]

I awake from a dreamless sleep and shut off the nagging clock on the coffee table. Finally free to think in the morning quiet, I stare at the ceiling for a bit as my brain wakes up. I raise my arms into the air, and slowly bend them towards me at the elbow while waggling my fingers. I feel stiff and sluggish, barely able to cooridinate the semi random movements of my digits. I let my arms drop in my lap and sit up. The warm light from a window hits my face and I close my eyes to bask in it's embrace. I take a few deep breathes before standing up to start the day with some stretches.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

Every day upon waking up, I have this moment of utter confusion that always repeats itself, no matter how many times I've slept in this very bed. Where's my axe? Is the sound I hear the clanking of swords on the battlefield or some messed up EVO experiement? What's reuquired of me? Or, wait, maybe it's an anti-drug raid, I should warn the others fast. And then I habitually attempt to crawl out of bed, promtly realizing that... I can just get up and walk like any other person, in fact I can run if I want to, and even though there's some pain in my muscles as I stretch them, it's the good kind of pain that comes from everyday training. That realization alone already makes the day so much better.

There's no discernable sound from the living room as I walk past it straight for the Soykaf machine, which might mean that Kahmed’s still out, or that he is an exceptionally silent room mate, which would be really appreciated. Once there was this troll who made exactly the same sounds when working out and masturbating loudly; one hardly dared to enter the living room at all. Thankfully, that one is long gone now and so is his smell. "Morning!" I yell from the kitchen as I pour myself a cup, getting mentally ready for its mud-like taste. It's just gross, but it does make one instantly alert, from zero to 100 %. Oddly enough, after a few days without it, one kind of starts to miss this shite.

 

[Buckteeth]

My routine didn't take long, only covering the major joints and muscle groups. The ones I'd certainly be making heavy use of later on in today's training. How long would that go on anyway? Being paid to exercise was fine and all, but I'm starting to feel restless. Just as I was rolling my neck and finishing up, that guy greets me from the kitchen. What was his name? Ivan? Something from one of those humorless places in the north. I throw on my t-shirt/cargo pants combo and walk into the kitchen. "Probably won't need that today. Training will wake you right up." I pop open the fridge to grab the Ornj™ I peeled the night before. "Don't take long, I'm not sure what happens if you're late. Might dock you or something." I give a lazy wave as I head out the door to practice, popping not quite orange colored slices into my mouth as I go.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

I mutter a non-commital agreement, having a hard time to stomach that I might have just been patronized. In all those months, I think I only came late once, and that was because of this dwarf who threw himself - or had been thrown? - under the train. He ended up in 27 pieces, blocking the traffic long enough for me to actually be able to count them all. I make it a point to finish the cup in peace as I chew a protein bar that pretends to have vanilla and some berries in it, but we all know better. Then I grab my throwing axe that I never leave the house without and head to the yard where my bike is waiting. The coffeine is already kicking in which makes me all the more excited for the fast ride. As it happens, Kahmed is still at the train stop when I pass it; it's impossible to miss him even in a crowd. I make sure to wave at him before speeding up and heading towards the premises. There would have been no point offering him a ride anyway, this machine wasn't built for poeple of that size. Is it sort of impressive, really. Back in the day, his appearance alone might have made enemies piss themselves in fear on the battlefield. Now, I'm not so sure, people are used to all kinds of creatures.

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

After a while both arrived at the construction site. The machines pounded loudly, and the skeleton crew that ran them moved hastily as if in a rush. Ivar and Kahmed knew the drill, get in, suit up, and do a couple of rounds across the main yard to fool anyone watching, then get in the basement through the main office. They were not the first to arrive today, familiar faces bumped into them.

Watch it breeder! —Said the orc, as he walked past them.

Ivar knew him, he was his roommate before; He was usually assigned to Kahmed in the gymnasium due to matching him size.

Once you were done with your rounds, you got inside you got off those dusty clothes, and got into your clean, well fitted uniform; It’s design was simple, all dark gray cargo pants, dark ankle-high boots and spandex long-sleeved shirt. The inside of the facility was tidy, well illuminated and under constant surveillance; Someone had invested quite a fortune on getting this place up and running. After 10 minutes or so, everyone was there proudly standing in line. The dress code, and rules conduct were military, as well as the training doctrine. Everyone stood in silence as the drill instructor walked into the room, a short, stubby dwarf looking down on a PDA. Everyone calls him Whiplash.

Good morning Trainees, today we’re scheduled for Combat Training... —He said, as scrolled down in his comm.

He stops, smiles at his comm, and as he rises his head he smiles and says:

Today we’re allowing the use magic and hacking on the combat course, and you’re going to be ranked based on your overall performance.

With a couple taps on his PDA he assigned everyone a partner, and said in a more stern tone:

Now, we’re running you through the obstacle course first to simulate battle weariness, that will be all for now...

Dice Throws:

Ivar, roll against your HT.

Kahmed, roll against your HT. Roll 1d6 to he how well you got along with Whiplash.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

HT DICE THROW

 

[Buckteeth]

HT DICE THROW

 

[Buckteeth]

Whiplash DICE THROW

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

HT DICE THROW

Success! You barely manage to withstand the physical and mental assault of the course, drench in sweat you push on…

HT DICE THROW

Failure... The course proves too much for your mind, you came unprepared for this level of roughness… You suffer -1 to all your physical skills, until you rest.

Whiplash DICE THROW

Whiplash is not impressed at all with both of your performances, and lately he’s been quite callous with you. (OOC – Ivar also got a 5 on his roll)

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

You reach the end of the course, and enter big reinforced room; you know it well, it’s the armory.

Whiplash speaks through the intercom on the wall.

Kahmed, Ivar you’re next in line, pick your gear and get a move on! –Said the dwarf, as the lights in the room turn red with a sonorous chunk.

We’re deploying you in a two-man team, you get to defend first, when the lights turn green you leave the room and go to the combat area.

Information pops up in your FOV, the showing you the map of the course, and the parameters of the mission. There’s three main sections, the first one consist of a long open hallway surrounded by elevated platforms, the second section is a far more open, leaving little place to cover from enemy fire, a couple busted cars are spread around the main “road”, and finally the third one, by far the most dangerous one, consists of many halls, windows and pipelines that intertwine labyrinthically.

The test consists of escorting a construction bot across the facility, it carries a payload that can be stolen by the attacking team and will slowly stop on his tracks if you stay away from it for too long. You see a forklift bot the size of a car, carrying a big bulletproof footlocker inside.

When you reach the third section you have to carry the payload on foot, and deliver it at the designed spot. You see a huge open room that has a big “A” spray-painted on the floor, there’s a note on your FOV that says “Killzone” …

There’s a large metal table before you, tidily sorted on it is your gear waiting for you. Light and heavy armor, handguns, rifles and shotguns; all heavily modified, bright blue light strips on the guns and armor, you suspect it has to do with the test.

This is your first “real” test, you trained with this guns and armor before, but this is by far the harshest course they have put you through.

 

[Buckteeth]

Ya lawhy! They weren't lying when they said that course would simulate battle weariness. I haven't felt this over-exerted in a while. I wasn't exhausted, but my muscles felt strained and my joints were tight. So much for this morning's stretches. The dwarf who either didn't like us or didn't like his job said it was our turn and ushered us through while techno stuff flashed across my vision. I wonder if I'll ever get used to that. We used to write out our plans on plain old plastipaper with a smartpen. Couldn't risk someone's chips getting ripped out and deep cleaned. I focus up as I realize just how hard this test was really gonna be. A timed foray into not one, but three of a soldier's worst nightmares where we could also very well be outnumbered. Not to mention the mages. I sigh to myself as I move to inspect the armor and weapons, as if my salvation lied in such basic armaments.

 

[MechanicalSnake]

The first thirty minutes, I find, are always the worst, but after that one's body gets beyond the point of exhaustion, or the endorphines, adrenaline and all those other helpful things we used to call blood lust back in the day kick in. And then it feels like you can just go on and on forever. Which is why I don't understand why Whiplash feels the need to treat me like I'm inferior. In my opinion, I've been doing pretty well lately, and really, what's wrong about being a little tired after a course that's supposed to make you feel tired? "We need to win this," I announce, deadpan, once the overload of information disappears from my field of vision.

For some reason, my current room mate doesn't seem quite resolute about it, and I really don't need unmotivated team members. Nobody who's ever known me even the slightest bit would ever describe me as cheerful or positive, but this stuff is exciting, alright? I can't say I live for it, because what I really life for is the distant idea of revenge, but fact is that the only way this job could get any better would be if I was in charge. "First of all, do you mind if I link our personal area networks, so that we can work together better? Second of all... what's up with these?" I reach for a shotgun, one that I usually go for, but which now looks most unusual.

Armoury (Small Arms) DICE THROW

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

Armoury (Small Arms) DICE THROW

Failure… The shotgun looks as it should, the only thing that caught your eye was the optical camera mounted to the side, and the light strips that pulsed three times in blue as you picked it up. Your Smartgun Link connects to it just fine.

Dice Throws:

Kahmed, roll against your Armoury (Small Arms) [You default to 7] for the gun you're going to pick, and against your Traps-2 [You roll against 10] for the armor.

 

[Buckteeth]

Armoury (Small Arms)

 

[Buckteeth]

Traps-2

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

Armoury (Small Arms)

Failure… You try to guess the inner workings of the modifications applied to those guns, but your mind is still scrambled by the stress course. You instinctively check the magazine, and see that it’s full but… with blanks?

Traps-2

Success! As you pick the armor up, you feel it’s weight, it’s weird and unbalanced… You check the carrier’s pouches; they’re filled with battery packs. After a second you unfasten the side straps and see that the insides are lined with a rather unusual wire mesh… You have a bad feeling about this.

 

[Buckteeth]

Ivar affirms our objective and I nod without much thought. Seems he gets the situation too. "Sure, go ahead." Networks were his thing, I wasn't gonna second guess something he did involving them. I move on to the equipment with a spark of joy. It's been a while since I had reason and opportunity to try to figure out a machine. This stuff's complex, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out the basics, and it's not pretty. However "damage" or what not is determined to have occurred, it would seem the result is electric shocks. Pain is one thing, but the involuntary muscle spasms were gonna be killer. At least the enemy probably had the same stuff strapped to them. I turn to my teammate. "We're shooting blanks. Looks like you get shocked when you're "hit" too. However that's determined."

 

[MechanicalSnake]

For some reason, that knowledge doesn't bother me much, because I expected worse - jammed or completely disfunctional equipment that would give the others an unfair advantage. I chuckle as I begin to work on interconnecting us; it's a matter of seconds really. "Kind of like laser tag with a twist. Well, I'm sure it's someone's fetish." I wonder if I'd be disqualified if I just took that thing off once inside? Rules exist only to be tweaked, after all. Without thinking much, I grab the smaller vest, put it on and proceed to tie my hair back. I've been trying to grow it in the last couple of months and it's just gotten to that annoying length when it constantly gets in the eyes, if you let it. "Here's how I see it. The middle area is our chance to dash. In the last one, we'll have to kill everyone before we start moving, because we're going to need all hands. The first one, probably 50/50 ratio. There are supposed to be two teams - if that's true, one of them is definitely going to be in the room where we have to carry the thing. But I have this nagging suspicion that they'll throw in a third, let us beat the first two and then die surprised once we pick up the load, thinking we're good. I want to start by tapping into the cameras, try and locate them."

 

[MechanicalSnake]

I want to estimate the most likely hiding places in the first room from where they will attack and also the best spots for myself, from where I can provide backup as well as do some hacking in cover.

 

[Buckteeth]

I see the indicator in the corner of my eye light up. This guy works fast. I like that. I chuckle at his joke. "Talk about putting us at a disadvantage, now we gotta get kinky with the enemy too?" I put on the larger rig, hopefully I get shocked less if I'm hit or something. Besides, I don't often work in heavier armor. The experience will do me good. I nod at his assessment, "Neither of us can go down before we reach the last section. I wouldn't be surprised if they gave us incomplete intel on purpose. They'd want to test spontaneity too. You do your thing, and if need be I'm ok with being the vanguard. I can take a hit pretty good, and hopefully this heavier gear will get me something."

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

The intercom turns on.

Just wait for 5 more minutes until your nail polish gets dry girls… What the heck are you two waiting for? Get your guns and move! We’re assigning you an Operator to guide and help your sorry asses through… –Shouted Whiplash.

A small video feed of an Icon pops up in your FOV, a cartoonish hooded man with round big eyes winks at you.

Hi! My name is Crackpot, I’ll be your operator for now on. –The voice sounds feminine and a bit high pitched.

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

I want to estimate the most likely hiding places in the first room from where they will attack and also the best spots for myself, from where I can provide backup as well as do some hacking in cover.

Success! As your eyes run along the first section of the map, you start to see a pattern… Most of the elevated platforms look menacing, strategically speaking, but almost none of them have enough of an angle to be good shooting position, you could easily hide behind the bot get through half the way without even being seen. There’s a ledge on the side of the dilapidated buildings… If you could get there, you could easily blast anybody below your level… The hairs in your back stand up.

Unless, there’s somebody already there…

 

[H1C3TH3K1LL]

Kahmed’s Gear:

Flexible Polymer Sap (Blackjack). Pg. 271

Modified Ares Predator V (Auto Pistol, .44M). Pg. 278

Modified AK-97 (Battle Rifle, 7.62mm). Pg. 279

Reinforced Polymerized Battle Suit (Tactical Suit at TL10). Pg. 284

Ivar’s Gear:

Colt America L36 (Auto Pistol, 9mm). Pg. 278

Retractable Baton (Small Mace). Pg. 271

Modified Defiance T-250 (Auto Shotgun, 12G). Pg. 279

Reinforced Light Vest (Ballistic Suit at TL10). Pg. 284