This was an improv half-session after the Battle of Collace to get some RP in and include Timo back in. It was partially inspired by a conversation on the FB Traveller group about ‘what preys on Nobbles? It must be pretty terrifying!’
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After travelling to Tarsus with Sturnn aboard the Short Walk, Timo spent some time catching up with his friends and family. [insert some family details here after generation]. He went back to his old employer, Hayden Poole, and on finding that the Boost Runner business was only just finding its’ feet again after the Wilder War, unloaded some capital and bought half the business. Hayden was delighted; the investment was just what he needed to get things really going again. New ranchers were being licensed now to replace the ones killed in the early days of the war, and the market was opening up.
Timo also rented a battered old J-Class and headed out into Tarsus’ belt to get back to his roots and do a little mining. [results] On top of this he did some quiet research, finding that while the Canedo had some connections here, they were largely inactive. Tarsus was not very fertile ground for big-synndicate crime.
Nearly two months after he’d left Collace, the Long Walk jumped into Tarsus with a good-sized cargo of Nob Boost, and the group were reunited. Hayden entertained them all to dinner, and over coffee, brandy and cigars broached a possible way for them to help.
Apparently, a ranch right out on the edges of settled Tarsus was reporting abnormal thinning of the Nob herds. Populations fluctuated, of course, but in this case, the reduction was unusual enough for the rancher to mention it to Poole’s flyer (he used air/rafts to ship to people this far away, rather than his usually preferred wheeled ATVs)
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The party agreed, and flew the Long Walk up over the plains to the head of the Calandris River and the ranch at Nobberosa. They called ahead, and the ranch deputy, Ms Cally Docious, directed them to land at the air/raft park. Discovering this to be half the size of the Long Walk, Nevada elected to put her down on open plain instead. The Rancher, Bartell Hank, was away so Cally was in charge.
Cally fetched them refreshments, thanking them for coming all this way out to look at their problem, and speaking highly of Hayden Poole. The Nobberosa take was going to be down this year, and strangely it was young, old and ill beasts that seemed to be disappearing from the herds. This seemed to rule out poaching, otherwise the most likely explanation.
The group cheerfully agreed to go take a look, and Cally provided them with a rough sketch of the usual herd movements in the area. Boarding their APC, the crew headed off to investigate.
Their craft was equipped with a full MilSpec sensor suite, far better than the simple radar built in to most local air/rafts, and after some searching along the migratory paths (which, given the average three tons of a Nobble, were fairly conspicuous), they descried a large patch of what looked like bones at the edge of a thick Tanglewald forest.
Landing, they armoured up and approached to investigate. The patch did indeed comprise scattered bones and less decayed Nobble corpses, of females, calves and ill or wounded beasts. Oddly enough, the more intact ones showed signs of being eaten from below. There were no bullet wounds, or large wounds indicating predators big enough to bring down Nobbles (a frightening thought!)
Ranging out, Wombat discovered what looked like tracks; tiny tracks, myriads of them, leading to and from the wood from the scene of the crime. Looking at the woods opposite this, Timo thought he could see a strange, sinuous movement among the twisted roots, but looking closer he found it gone.
Looking up the valley, clouds of dust indicated a group of Nobbles approaching, so the group backed off someway to see what happened.
It was only a small group - eight bulls, 4 cows and 2 calves - though that many Nobbles can’t really be described as small in any way.
As they came level with the disturbed earth, one of the calves simply stopped walking. It stood in place, calm but apparently not interested in following the herd any more. As its’ mother noticed it gone and turned back, the disturbance among the roots reappeared and emerged into the open as a brown, undulating wave of small bodies heading straight for the immobile calf, which ignored them utterly. They were rats!
It’s possible Timo didn’t much like rats. Whatever the reason, he swung up his AGL and walked a line of RAM grenades along the swarm of rodents. The explosions hurled ratty bodies, shrapnel, mud, blood and gore in all directions. The calf was punctured with a dozen or so small shrapnel wounds, which it ignored entirely, most unusual for an animal. It’s mother was splattered in flying mud and dismembered rats; she reacted completely normally, turned tail and fled. The surviving rats retreated into the Tanglewald and disappeared.
The calf started to glance around in vague curiosity. Timo stepped up behind it and delivered a sharp slap on its rump; the beast started violently, spied its mother receding into the distance, and set off after her with a comical bleat.
Investigating the carnage, the crew took several samples - and captured a live specimen which recovered just in time for Wombat to stun it - though it seemed to become partially invisible before being shot. Then they headed back to the ranch.
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Back at the ship, they examined their samples carefully. They were indeed rats of some sort, though as big as large cats and with an enlarged and unpleasant looking brainpan.
“This is your problem,” said Nevada. Cally looked at it with distaste. “There’s always been rats,” she said, “but I ain’t never seen one like that before.”
Wombat dissected several, confirming that they were some kind of mutant; the internal organs were all different sizes compared to what they should have been - the heart was particularly enlarged. The brain was something else again. Far too big for that of a rat, it had enlarged lobes in the areas Wombat knew were connected with psionic ability.
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As he worked in the sickbay, he heard a rustle from the cage behind him, suggesting that the live rat was awake. He was just turning to look when, without any transition, he realized the room was on fire - all the walls, ceiling and floor blazing intensely.
Yelling in panic, he fled out of the sick bay, meeting Nevada and Timo outside. They stared at him in bewilderment as he raved and yelled about being on fire, as he obviously wasn’t. Nevada got a grip on him and Timo went into the sick bay. As he did, Wombat suddenly glanced around, puzzled. The fire was gone - and now he thought about it it occurred to him that there had been no sound or heat to the fire.
The roll to resist the rats’ power subtracts the Intelligence bonus, and Steve rolled snake eyes here. As a result, Wombat was totally convinced by a very weak illusion.
In sick bay, Timo drew a large knife and levelled it at the rat through its’ cage bars. The rat eyed him levelly, and it struck Timo that he’d never seen such a knowing look from an animal before. Suddenly, he thought he saw spiders crawling all over his arm, though they were thin and insubstantial. Gritting his teeth he pushed the knife home through the rat’s head and the spiders vanished.
After a moment, Wombat spoke up. “I think there’s enough tinfoil left in the galley to make hats....”