Jihad Conspiracies - Interstellar Players 2.pdf - Jihad era - brathac

Interstellar players 2, a jIhad plot sourcebook

connection/ JIHAD CONSPIRACIES / section01: Table of ConTenTs

TAblE Of CONTENTS

FOUND AND LOST

Children of the Void:

A Touch of Wrongness 52

Stowaway 53

Becalmed on the Cocytus 53

The Nameless One 54

Manei Domini 55

Ascension 56

Witness to Madness 56

And So, You See, It’s All Come to This 57

Gamemaster’s Section 58

Misjumps 58

The “Void Children” 59

THE ANCIENTS 60

The Belters 62

Early History 62

The Belt and the Terran Hegemony 62

The Belt and the Fall of the Star League 63

The Belt, The Succession Wars, And Today 63

Belters: Where and Who Are They? 63

Government 65

Slowboat Colonies 65

Gamemaster’s Section 68

CULT OF THE SAINTS CAMERON 69

Origin of the Cult of the Saints Cameron 70

The Knights of St. Cameron

MINOR GROUPS

INTRODUCTION

Devlin Stone

How to Use This Book

The Elusive Devlin Stone: The Truth

(Or a Few Reasonable Facsimiles) 88

Gamemaster’s Section 90

Thuggees 91

Operation: Revelation 91

Gamemaster’s Section 94

The Tanites 95

Subject: The Tanite Civilization 95

Gamemaster’s Section 99

The Blake Documents 100

RULES ADDENDUM 103

Classic BattleTech RPG Rules 104

Inluence and Special Contacts/Enemies 104

Inluence Trait

What If?

Where It All Leads?

The Original Plan?

THE HIDDEN

The Ballad of Brooklyn Stevens

Amaris and ComStar?

Hiding Planets

The Big Picture

Gamemaster’s Section

“UNCLE CHANDY”

Stagnation

Hachiman Taro Electronics

Economic Tentacles

Irian Technologies

104

The Jihad

Special Contact/Enemy Traits

106

Gamemaster’s Section

Skills and Fields

106

Chandrasekhar Kurita

Martial Arts/Quick Death (New)

106

Aims and Objectives

Personal Equipment

107

Holdings

Roleplaying Addendum

107

Security

Possession

107

Mercenaries

Cutting In

109

THE SOCIETY

Roleplaying With Interstellar Players

110

Signs of Conspiracy

Interstellar Player NPCs

111

Society Structure

Modern Times

Belters in Game Play

111

Playing Gods?

Gamemaster’s Section

Belter Augmentations

113

Society Operations

A Cult Divided

New Mercenary Employer:

Uncle Chandy

Wheels Within Wheels

THE SAURIMAT

114

Gamemaster’s Section

The Saurimat: A Compendium

Thuggee-Manei Domini

(Phansigar) Hybrids

THE BROTHERHOOD OF RANDIS

Belief to the Stars

114

Gamemaster’s Section

Humble Before Change

Classic BattleTech Rules

124

MYSTERIES OF THE VOID

Faith Rises

New Vehicle Equipment:

The Mariner’s Tale:

The Saurimat Today

Smart Robotic Control Systems

124

In the Darkness Between

Skipjack

Gamemaster’s Section

New ProtoMech Equipment

125

INTERCONNECTEDNESS UNLIMITED

New Aerospace Equipment:

Super-Jump Drives

Ghosts, or Ghost Particles?

Interconnectedness Unlimited:

126

Winning the Lottery

Taking the Fall

New Vehicle Equipment:

Centurion Weapon Systems

Early Arrival?

The Turning

127

Time’s Arrow

The Prestige

New BattleMech: RMP-5G Rampage

128

On Second Thought...

Gamemaster’s Section

New Aerospace Fighter:

Mk. 30 “BlackWasp” Robotic Interceptor 130

New Force Rules: The Saurimat

A Change of Heart

Facts: The Corporation

What Lives Between

Facts: Behind the Stage

131

connection/ JIHAD CONSPIRACIES / 01: CREDITS

002 / 003

CREDITS

Writing

Found and Lost

Jason Hardy

Introduction

Herbert a. beas II

What If?

Herbert a. beas II

The Hidden

Herbert a. beas II

Uncle Chandy

David l. McCulloch

The Society

ben Rome

The Brotherhood of Randis

Ken’ Horner

Mysteries of the Void

teve Mohan, Jr.

The Ancients

Mike Miller

Cult of the Saints Cameron

David l. McCulloch

The Saurimat

andreas Zuber

Interconnectedness Unlimited

andreas Zuber

Minor Groups

Devlin Stone

Jason Hardy

Thuggees

Warner Doles

The Tanites

Christofer “bones” Trossen

Game Rules

Herbert a. beas II

Ken’ Horner

David l. McCulloch

teve Mohan, Jr.

Mike Miller

ben Rome

Christofer “bones” Trossen

andreas Zuber

Special Thanks

To Randall for entertaining the notion of a second

Interstellar Players book — now with 100 percent less

Genecaste! Peter Smith, for bringing “Starling” to life

(and being good enough to share him). Warner Doles

for the original Manei Domini concept (which I con-

tinue to ruthlessly exploit). Our esteemed playtester

and fact-checker apparatus. The five “Herblets”:

Tribble, Annie, Oscar, Merlin, and Meggie—now

joined by the “Beckielet”, Logan. And, as always, one

Rebecca “Beckie” J Beas, who has grown ever more

patient as I have grown ever more busy.

Product Development

Herbert a. beas II

Assistant Development

Randall n. bills

Playtesters/Fact-Checkers

Joel Agee, Brian “Whytwolf” Alter, Joel “Welsh-

m a n” B a n c r o f t- Co n n o r s , R o n “ Ste e l H aw ke ”

Barter, Rich Cencarik, Brent Dill, Dan Eastwood,

John “Worktroll” Haward, Glenn Hopkins, John

“Bluesman” Hudson, Michael “Konan” Koning, Alan

Kreilick, Edward “TenakaFurey” Lafferty, Ed Lott,

Darrell “FlailingDeath” Myers, Jason Paulley, Michael

Pfister, Aaron Pollyea, Rick Raisley, Jim Rapkins,

Jason Robinette, Eric Salzman, Christopher K. Searls,

Jason Skidmore, Sam Snell, Rob Strathmann, Joel Ste-

verson, Geof Swift, Roland “Ruger” Thigpen, Chris

“Chinless” Wheeler, Patrick “Roosterboy” Wynne.

Product Editing

Diane Piron-Gelman

BattleTech Line Developer

Herbert a. beas II

Production Staf

Art Direction

Randall n. bills

Cover Art

slawomir Maniak

Cover Design

adam Jury

Layout

adam Jury

Matt Heerdt

Illustrations

Robert atkinson

brad McDevitt

lorian stitz

Interstellar Players 2, Classic BattleTech Total Warfare, Classic

BattleTech, BattleTech, ’Mech, BattleMech, Classic BattleTech

RPG, AeroTech 2, BattleForce 2 and WK Games are registered

trademarks and/or trademarks of WizKids, Inc. in the United

States and/or other countries. No part of this work may be repro-

duced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form

or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the

than that in which it is published.

Catalyst Game Labs and the Catalyst Game Labs logo are trade-

marks of InMediaRes Productions, LLC.

Published by Catalyst Game labs,

an imprint of InMediaRes Productions, llC

PMB 202 • 303 91st Ave NE • G701

Lake Stevens, WA 98258

FIND US ONLINE:

Precentor_martial@classicbattletech.com

(e-mail address for any Classic BattleTech questions)

http://www.classicbattletech.com

(oicial Classic BattleTech web pages)

http://www.CatalystGameLabs.com

(Catalyst Game Labs web pages)

http://www.wizkidsgames.com/mechwarrior/

(oicial MechWarrior web pages)

http://www.wizkidsgames.com

(WizKids web pages)

http://www.battlecorps.com/catalog

(online ordering)

connection/ JIHAD CONSPIRACIES / section02: foUnD anD losT

fOUND AND lOST

This is the room. Right here. This is the ogima room.

What do you mean, what’s the ogima room? oh, right, right,

you’re new. Well, this is a story you need to know if you’re going to

work here. This room’s a legend . It’s too bad Rascombe isn’t here

to tell the story himself—I forget some of the details—but I’ll do

what I can.

Yeah, you probably haven’t ever met Dr. Rascombe. oicially,

he still works here, but he’s not around much. He’s … he’s not

been well.

anyway, this happened maybe two years ago, back when

everything seemed like it was exploding at once and we found

out Marik was actually not-Marik. It was a late night—full moon, of

course. Have you worked a full moon yet? oh, you’re in for a real

treat. Just you wait.

Rascombe had been on duty for about ifteen hours, and he

was napping on one of the dressing-room cots. someone shook

him awake after he’d been down for about twenty minutes and

told him he was on. so he stumbled up, got himself together and

went to act professional.

He came to the door of the room and saw a nurse—I think it

was burton, a guy who left here about a year ago—standing by

the door, looking nervous.

“What’s going on?” Rascombe said.

burton didn’t answer right away; he was pretty twitchy. “The

patient …” he inally said. “The patient in there is a little worked up.”

Then Rascombe heard it. Yelling coming from the other side of

the door. There’d be a few words, then silence, then some more

yelling. alternating, on and of, constantly.

“He should be sedated,” Rascombe said. and burton says, “He

was sedated. He’s had enough tranqs to completely knock him

out. and the horse he rode in on. and a few other horses besides.”

The guy inside yelled some more.

“Is he … secured?”

“ Yeah,” burton said. “Manacled to the bed. Good luck with him.

Call me if you need me.”

“You’re coming in with me.” so Rascombe glances at his note-

puter to see if the patient info’d shown up yet. It was there, but it

only gave a irst name. ogima.

so Rascombe went into the room—this room right here. The

bed there is where ogima was chained. Under here you can see

the gouges he made by pulling on his manacles.

of course it’s the same bed. We don’t buy much new stuf.

When Rascombe walked in, he saw—well, you should ask him

about it some time, if you ever meet him. He saw a sight. The guy,

he said, was practically levitating on the bed, he was pulling so

hard against his manacles. He had bald patches where he’d pulled

hair out, and his face was crumpled like paper. on one wrist, he’d

pulled so much that the metal had cut him practically to the bone.

He might have bled out if Rascombe had waited any longer to get

in there.

so there’s blood spraying everywhere, hitting Rascombe and

burton as soon as they walk in. Rascombe runs forward, trying

to stop the bleeding, but the guy’s thrashing everywhere, even

though he’s restrained, even though he’s sedated. Rascombe

knows that anything he puts on the wrist is going to get ripped

of pretty quick. nothing good’s going to happen until he puts the

guy out.

and of course, the whole time the guy’s yelling. Most of it’s

gibberish, but Rascombe and burton said sometimes they could

understand a word or two. of course, they both heard diferent

things, so you don’t know if it’s what this ogima guy actually said

or if they just heard it that way. like a Rorschach test, but with

sound.

burton, he said the guy yelled “the lesh, the lesh,” a lot, and

then he said “so many, too many.” Rascombe heard him say “run,

run, run, run,” and “the heart, right out,” and he said what burton

heard as “so many, too many,” was actually “may I, do I.”

but they cared more about subduing the guy and stopping the

bleeding than listening to him rave. Rascombe looks at the chart,

sees how many tranqs have been pumped into the guy, and he

lips out. The guy should’ve been asleep for a week, not thrashing

himself to death. so Rascombe makes the call—twenty micro-

grams of astoril. Yeah, that’s right, t wenty . and still the guy doesn’t

go out right away. He spends a little more time throwing blood

around the room—check some of the corners, you might ind a

spot the cleaning crew missed in the past few years.

oK, I’m kidding. Kind of.

but inally, inally, the guy goes down, and Rascombe patches

up his wrist. but the guy’s not entirely out. His eyelids kept snap-

ping open with only the whites showing underneath. Rascombe

said the eyes were pulsing, bulging—he worried they were going

to pop out of their sockets, but then they’d close. and even then,

when the patient was totally sedated, he had this presence—well,

he was just creepy , Rascombe said.

but at least the guy’s quiet and still and there’s no more bleed-

ing, so Rascombe igures he can get to work on the real problem.

He looks at the chart. Then he looks at the patient. Then the chart

again. He does a cursory visual inspection. Hooks up a computer

to the guy to see if it can ind anything. looks for burton, but bur-

ton took of as soon as the patient went under. He walks out into

the hall, looks around, then yells to anyone who can hear him.

“Does anyone know what the hell is supposed to be this guy’s

problem?”

no one answers. In fact, Rascombe told me it seemed like

everyone was doing their best to keep their distance. He saw one

nurse walk into the hall, make eye contact with him, then dash

right back into the same room she’d just walked out of.

so he igured he’d go to admissions, see who took the guy’s

info in the irst place. He just wants to ind out what the problem is,

ix it and get the guy out of there. He takes two steps, then hears a

noise. behind him. from the room. This room here.

He runs into the room and the guy is sitting up. sitting up! Just

a few minutes after twenty units of astoril! at least he’s not thrash-

ing. He’s still, his eyes are closed, but he’s sitting bolt upright.

connection/ JIHAD CONSPIRACIES / 02: FOUND AND LOST

004 / 005

fOUND AND lOST

Rascombe, of course, is pretty unnerved. He stares at the guy,

waiting for something else bizarre to happen, and he’s not disap-

pointed. The guy starts to shake. Vibrate, Rascombe said. His body

stays in its seated position, but it’s trembling like an aspen leaf.

Rascombe pokes his head out the door, asking for a little help, but

no one shows. He says the shaking went on for maybe a minute,

then stopped. and the guy’s eyes snapped open, with the eyeballs

now in their proper position.

Rascombe takes a step toward the guy, and there’s no response

from him, no recognition. another step, same thing. He walks in

front of the guy and waves a hand in front of his face. nothing on

the guy moves, not the slightest twitch of an eyeball. He does it

again. still nothing. He takes a step back.

Then the guy speaks. In a voice, Rascombe said, like you’d

expect to come from a mummy.

“I see you,” the guy says.

Rascombe looks around. There’s no one else in the room. He

looks at the guy.

“Me?” Rascombe says. “You see me?”

The guy doesn’t respond immediately. Then he talks again. “I

see you.”

Then Rascombe gets it. or he thinks he does. “no,” he said.

“You’re not in the ICU. This is one of the emergency rooms.”

The guy seems satisied. His eyes stay open, and he doesn’t

thrash or shake. Rascombe igures it’s time to get the guy diag-

nosed, treated and on the road. so he picks up his chart.

“says here your name is ogima. Is that right? Is that your

name?”

“ogima,” the guy says.

“and that’s your irst name, right?”

“ogima,” the guy says again.

“It doesn’t say what your complaint is,” Rascombe said. “What

brought you here tonight?”

“all, all, all wrong. all wrong.”

Rascombe’s not sure how to respond. “all … ?” he says. “I … I

need you to be more speciic.”

“ogima.”

Rascombe sighs. He’d ordered a mental consult once the guy

was sedated, but no one had showed yet. of course.

so, good doctor that Rascombe was—is—he soldiered on.

“okay, ogima’s your name. Where are you from?”

and then it happened. The answer. The big answer. The answer

that turned this from a run-of-the-mill full-moon psycho story to a

genuine hospital legend with a room named after it.

The guy answered. He didn’t hesitate. He spoke clearly and

calmly.

“Jardine,” he said.

Rascombe dropped his noteputer.

“What?” he said.

“Jardine.”

“You’re from Jardine?”

“Jardine.”

“no one’s from Jardine!”

The guy spoke more clearly than ever. “I am.”

Rascombe didn’t know what to ask next. of course, he mostly

didn’t believe the guy—I mean, he didn’t seem too sane. but

something about the guy’s calm, his total self-possession as he

kept saying the word “Jardine”—something about that weirded

Rascombe out.

finally, he came out with a question. “What … what are you

doing here?”

for the irst time since Rascombe had come back into the room,

the guy moved his head. He turned it until he was looking at Ras-

combe, though his eyes might not have been focused.

“Run,” he said. “Run run run run run.”

Then the door to the room lew open. Three men dressed in

dark everything—suits, sunglasses, hats, everything —charged

into the room. They didn’t hold any visible weapons, but Ras-

combe said they gave the impression that they easily could

be armed.

“We’re taking him,” one of the men said.

“excuse me, who are you?” Rascombe asked.

“We’re taking him now ,” the same man said. another one

shoved Rascombe aside.

The three of them surrounded the bed.

“lie down,” one of them said, but ogima stayed bolt upright

until one of the dark men sent him down with a irm push. The

men then started taking the guy away on his gurney.

Rascombe tried to get to his feet. “You can’t do that!” he said.

none of the men glanced at Rascombe. “We’re doing it,” one of

them said. and they pushed the guy out.

Rascombe followed, throwing out a lurry of questions. “Who

are you people? Where are you taking him? Do you—do you know

where he says he’s from?”

Two of them keep pushing the gurney forward, but the other

one turns and looks at Rascombe with a gaze that chills him. Right

through the sunglasses. “That’s something you shouldn’t know,”

the man says. Then he follows the other two.

Rascombe chased them, but they moved with an odd, liquid

swiftness. He broke into a run before he knew it, but they stayed

ahead of him, almost out of sight. They left the hospital, and Ras-

combe followed.

The gurney was sitting just outside the exit, empty. Rascombe

looked around and couldn’t see ogima or the men anywhere. He

walked a few meters this way, a few meters that way, but it was

hopeless. They were gone.

He walked back here, into the ogima room, and picked up the

noteputer he’d dropped on the loor. He wasn’t sure what kind of

a note he was going to make, but he knew it had to be something.

so he called up the ile.

It wasn’t there. ogima’s chart was gone. no sign it had ever

existed.

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