Fan Races!!

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

I'm looking forward to seeing some new races to add to the ones you guys have already put here!

Grun’Tarian Protectorate Soldiers

“Drop your loot, come out with your hands up. This is the GPS, and we’ve got you surrounded. This is your only warning. You have thirty-seconds to comply before we open fire. The last thing many a thief hears upon breaking into a GPS protected building.

These people are mineral aliens, and built like a tank. Fortunately, they are relatively peaceful, and don’t make war with other peoples. They tend to be large, muscular, with sharp lines, no hair, and expressionless faces. Made out of what appears to be polished obsidian, with paler streaks of stone running across their faces and chest. There are no discernable differences between individuals other than the patterns made by the streaks of stone; this is sometimes used to great effect in bluffing other races into speaking to the wrong individuals. Once hired, they usually paint numbers (or other identifying features) on themselves for ease of reference.

They usually hire themselves out as building guards. They do have particular demands though. Usually they only take a bare handful of credits for engaging their services, but demand special lodgings, as well as large amounts of wood, ivory, and certain stones for carving. They will stay employed loyally for years, as long as their conditions are met, and they are given free reign as to the punishments they deal out to trespassers and thieves.

They have a very strict honor-based culture. If someone helps a Grun’Tarian, they are required to pay them back, on matter how long it takes. This can even be passed on through successive generations on both sides if the Grun’tarian feels that the debt is strong enough. The Grun’Tarian will do whatever it takes to pay off this debt, even blatantly going against their code of honor (even though they will make reparations later if they can), for as long as it takes, even if the other party doesn’t want them to.

They take a VERY dim view on thieves, treating them to horrific mutilations and tortures over the course of weeks or months. They also don’t have personal belongings (excepting carvings made by, or given to, an individual), everything is jointly owned by the community. To prevent confusion, a Quarter-Master is assigned to keep an inventory of all possessions owned by the community (typically has 3-4 assistants), and has absolute control over who gets to use what (their word is law when it comes to possessions, no arguing without exile) and when.

In combat, they prefer to use hammers and axes, as opposed to swords and spears like most other cultures; they expect no mercy and give no, every fight is treated as a fight to the death, and will use whatever tricks (dirty or not) they can to win. ‘Fair-play’ is a foreign concept to them, and never let a chance to ridicule it pass. So shooting/stabbing someone in the back, poisoning them, hiring an assassin, all are up for grabs in warfare/feuds. The only thing they will not do is attack/harm non-combatants, though threats, intimidation, and blackmail are all ok (and is usually expected as well). Against modern opponents, they use everything from lasers to rail-guns to particle beams.

Grun’Tarians come from a world much like Earth, only with less deep surface water. Not that the world is arid, just with more shallow rivers/streams and underground. The Grun’Tarian CANNOT swim without technological aides, they sink like the rocks that they are. They all have a mild version of Phobia: Water, they will avoid deep water, but have no qualms about crossing it with the proper equipment. The planet is covered in lush grasslands and open plains, as well as mountain ranges that would be legendary on other worlds. The Grun’Tarians actually had a strong navy on their home-world, only they were all equipped with wooden suits/life-jackets.

They seem to be very dour to the outsiders, but only because they tend to hold all their emotions in check. They take each day one at a time, and only really worry about their duties and carvings. Though their retribution on anybody messing with either will feel the Grun’Tarians wrath descend upon them with the fury of an earthquake, and the suddenness of an avalanche.

Stats
P.S.: 6d6+10 (superhuman)
P.E.: 4d6
P.P.: 3d6
P.B.: 3d4
I.Q.: 3d6 (often appear as less, but they let this slide, it enhances their reputation as warriors)
M.E.: 3d6 (strong as stone)
M.A.: 3d4 (have the reputation of being cruel, and don’t look very nice)
SPD: 10 +1d4 (don’t add the Lightning Reflexes in, already done)
I.S.P.: 1d4 (Psychics are not possible)
P.P.E.: 1d6 (Unless an Earth Warlock)
N.A.R.: 14 in S.D.C. settings only
S.D.C.: 200 +1d4x10, +10 per level
H.P.: P.E. +2d6 per level
M.D.C.: S.D.C. and H.P. combined.
Horror Factor: 8 +1d6 for those who know their reputation as cold, merciless warriors
Alignment: Any and All
Lifespan: 3-4 hundred years old
Size: 8-8 ½ feet tall.
Weighs: 800 +1d4x100 pounds

Gender: Male and Female (Looks almost identical, outsiders can’t tell the difference). Females lay ‘eggs’ (3-4) that look like pointy boulders. Hatch after one year, grows to full maturity by age 20.

Natural Abilities: All but immune to disease and drugs (+6 to save), night vision to 90 feet, and ability to hold breath = to P.E.

Psionics: Not Applicable, by some twist of genetics, NO psionics are possible with the Grun’Tarian.
Magic: Earth Warlocks only (they frequently make new limbs for those lost in battle)
Augmentation: Not applicable, their physiology is so radically different form humans that they can’t be adapted for Grun’Tarians.
Available O.C.C.’s: Any warrior/scout class.

R.C.C. Skills: Art: Carving +10%, woodworking+10%, appraise art+10%, and appraise stonework+15%.

Allies: To their race, community, and employer, in that order.
Enemies: Thieves, bandits, and art critics.

Culture: Nomadic Clansmen wandering the cosmos. They are usually encountered in groups of 2d4x100, but never more than 3,000 at one time. Entire race is estimated to only be around 2-3 billion.
Military: Small groups of guards and warriors, usually nothing more.

Super Powers: Weapon/Armor Meld, Energy Shield, Lightning Reflexes, and Personal Space (see below). If you want to only use ‘canon’ powers, use Dimensional Room.


Personal Space (Major) by Roscoe Del’Tane
"Unarmed? Yeah, right.”

This power is sort of a combination of Dimensional Room and Instant Wardrobe/Weapons. The character has a pocket in their body, that will allow them to almost instantly grasp anything they had stored.

1) Store Items. Initially the character can store double their body weight, and every level after one, the character can add three times their M.E. to their storage space. Only non-living items can be safely stored, but anything can be put into storage. Every melee that a living being is in Storage, the victim takes 3d4 damage, and the character with Personal Space takes double damage directly to hit points. The character can store up to their M.E. in pounds per melee round, and they can only store what can be held or worn by the character (so Power armor is ok, but not a motorcycle or a tank).

2) Quick draw: With weapons, the character can almost instantly materialize a weapon in hand. For every 3 lbs (per level) materialized, one melee action is expended, this counts for both hands (and tentacles if you have different appendages). For the first melee the character uses the weapon, they enjoy a +2 to strike and parry (if applicable) with that item. For non weapon items, the character can materialize 5 pounds per level for one melee action.

3) Body Armor and Clothing: The character can cause any complete change of cloths to instantly appear on their body, for only one melee action, but it cannot include any type of armor. Armor costs two melee attack for every 3 points of A.R. it has. The A.R. per pair of melee attacks goes up by one at levels 2, 5, and 7.

4) Assorted Notes and Bonuses:
Things that are stored, come out in the same state as they went in, the storage area is in a state of quantum stasis (so you can’t store a bomb, and let it detonate in the store room; it will continue to take up space until you pull it out again, and the times will be at the same time as it went in at), and upon the characters death, all their stored items comes flooding out into their immediate bodily area.

Whenever the character fails against Horror Factor or a mental psionic attack, they have a 50-50 chance of randomly swapping out one clothing item/weapon.

The character can attempt to store energy attacks/gunfire/thrown attacks. They have to make a parry attack roll at -3, and for every 1d6 worth of damage the character uses up five pounds of storage space (this space is ‘burnt up’ for 2 hours -5 min per level).

H.P. bonus of 3d6+10

After the third level, the character can ‘blast’ himself clean by rapidly changing cloths to fling dirt and filth off of himself. This only takes three or four clothing changes, and also has the benefit of refreshing the character mentally (roughly the equivalent of a two or three hour nap, no good for the long term, but good for a quick pick me up).

[taalismn]

Gotta love booze that can make an Alien Intelligence drunk.
Oh, and DT stands for Delerium Trennumns, the after effects of being drunk. Just wanted to see if anyone would get that.

Dregk Tequila----Look for the inebriated Zembhak(HIC!*burble*) floating in the bottom of the cask....

[taalismn]

"Dan...just step up on that ugly sculpture there and you can swing over to that window! Should be easy enough to get in that way!"
"Good thinking, bro! I'm already on----What the F---*CRACK*!SNAP!**THUD***"
"Dan!? Dude?! What just happened!"
"I just broke your accomplice's neck for attempted breaking and entering...and for stepping on my face! And for calling me an ugly sculpture I have have a thought to do the same to you, scum!"
-----Typical encounter between criminals and Grun’Tarian security...


Great job! Plus you bring in your Heroes Unlimited work as well!

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

Dregk Tequila----Look for the inebriated Zembhak(HIC!*burble*) floating in the bottom of the cask....

Kitani to Powerlord. "Why is lord Splyncrynth in a Toga and dancing on top of the pyramid?"

"Dregk Tequila, four barrels in one shot."

"Ah. Well, detail a platoon or four to catch him if he falls, and make sure there are no photos of this." Starts to walk off, and pauses. "And make sure we get the name of the idiot who delivered that filth, and have them delivered to the Meat Processing Plant."

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

"Dan...just step up on that ugly sculpture there and you can swing over to that window! Should be easy enough to get in that way!"
"Good thinking, bro! I'm already on----What the F---*CRACK*!SNAP!**THUD***"
"Dan!? Dude?! What just happened!"
"I just broke your accomplice's neck for attempted breaking and entering...and for stepping on my face! And for calling me an ugly sculpture I have have a thought to do the same to you, scum!"
-----Typical encounter between criminals and Grun’Tarian security...

Yeah, that's pretty much how I figured it would go. They are pretty much too slow to chase those guys down, so they would hide in plain sight. And once sure they are up to no good, grab the intruders, scaring the bajeezis out of them.

"Hmmm, what are you up to little crunchie? That's not your house, that's a miitary store room and you don't have clearance. How many bones will I get to enjoy breaking before you tell me what I want to know? "
[CRUNCH!] "This Little piggy went to market."
[CRUNCH!] "This little piggy stayed home. Talk, or it's time for some roast beef."

"IANTHAL! The labor-spokesman, said you guys stiffed them on some bill!"

[KLM]

Gotta love booze that can make an Alien Intelligence drunk.
Oh, and DT stands for Delerium Trennumns, the after effects of being drunk. Just wanted to see if anyone would get that.

Dregk Tequila----Look for the inebriated Zembhak(HIC!*burble*) floating in the bottom of the cask....

Just for the record: if there is a worm in the bottle, that is
mezcal, not tequila.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mescal#The_worm

Adios
KLM

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

Junty Froo-Lumps (Darned Pickpocket Menace, according to many shopkeepers)

These klepto-maniacal critters make the nearly perfect thieve, due to their inherent cuteness and small statures. They are roughly three feet tall, with a plump, round body, thick fluffy fur (azure with purple tiger stripes), and a triplet of long, waving prehensile tails. This is offset by their insatiable desire to get their hands (all six of them) on every shiny thing and valuable that their beady eyes fall upon.

It is way beyond a simple desire, it’s a Compulsion (they must make a save vs. Insanity at -5 each time they see a new shiny; after three saves in a day they are immune to that object for 1d6 months), and they have no desire to break themselves of it. Exceptions may be made for trusted companions (friends for years, or people with very nasty tempers), but is not likely, and will usually only last for a few months at a time. Merchants and shop keeps have quickly learned to keep a sharp eye on these diminutive pickpockets, usually learned after they get their entire inventory stripped bare in the space of a few minutes.

They were introduced to the galactic community as the result of a colossal lapse in higher judgment (“Awww! Aren’t you just simply KEEE-yoot! Let’s bring them home with us!”) in some intergalactic explorers. They were lured in by the unholy cuteness of the Junty Froo-Lumps, crossing the boundaries between puppies, kittens, and koala bears. This is a LIE, plain and simple! They only desire THINGS, not People! Do NOT be suckered in by their unholy goo-goo eyes and fuzzy cuteness!

They evolved on a world where shiny things usually marked safe spots from predators, or valuable food sources. They were the ultimate scavengers there, gathering everything they could before the other critters could, and thrived. They were content (when they weren’t being EATEN by the other critters) doing that, but constantly desired more. They now have an overabundance of new things to snag and places to ogle. They now swarm over unsuspecting space stations and colonies, taking everything that isn’t bolted down, and often carrying bolt-removal devices as well.

Alignment: Typically Anarchist or Miscreant
Lifespan: 70-80 years. Heterosexual beings, who reproduce like flowers (through the exchange pollen, gives birth to 3-6 live children {roll 1d4+2})
Size: 3-3 ½ feet tall (same wide and thick, little butterballs), weighs between 60-75 pounds.
Disposition: Very friendly and inquisitive, right up until they steal you blind. Love to go to new places and meet new saps (I mean, friends). Have very strong family ties, though this doesn’t stop them from fighting amonst themselves (punching, kicking, biting, hair/tail pulling etc. are all par for the course during family squabbles). Hate fighting, but are absolutely in love with Naruni force-field belts (usually have one or two on themselves at one time), and always are on the prowl for pint sized weapons that pack a punch.

Stats:
I.Q.: 4d6
P.S.: 3d4
P.P.: 3d6 +4
P.E.: 3d6
P.B.: 3d6
M.A.: 3d6
M.E.: 3d6
SPD: 4d6
I.S.P. and P.P.E. by occupation only
H.P.: P.E. +2d4
S.D.C.: 1d4x10 +15
M.D.C.: By Science or Magic only

Awe Factor: 10 +1d6 for every time someone unfamiliar with them sees one (roll each time)
Horror Factor: Applies only to shopkeepers/business people who have met/heard of them
R.C.C. Skills: Pickpocket, Palm, picklocks, all at +10%, and prowl at +5%.
Superpowers: Teleport(Special), Anatomical Independence, Circular Vision (dozens of tiny eyes all over their head aside from their normal ones), and Heightened Sense of Touch. Teleport can only be used while their body parts are separated from the main body. Used to transport small valuables directly to a hidey-hole while the rest of them sits in plane site, sifting through more items for valuable sparklies.

Magic and Psionics: Make up less than a combined total of 5% of the total population.
Augmentation: Not possible at the present, too different biologically speaking from any who have them. Give it 20-30 years of horrific experimentation on them, and they might get there.

Culture: Rather like having a race of mischievous furry rascals underfoot. They are so inquisitive about EVERYTHING, that most people find it near impossible to be angry at them. At least until they realize the fuzzy lump they have been giving a ride to have stripped them of all valuables. Love to travel, see new people and places. Hate to be constrained, tied down, or kept in one place for more than a few months now that they have discovered the outside universe. Some of them have even found employment with thieves’ guilds and such, or with Naruni Enterprises as covert agents against the Splugorth. Most tend to only think short term, rarely beyond the end of the week (if that).

Military: Not applicable. Each traveling family (3d4x100 individuals) will have some small fighter craft and power armor, really nothing beyond what is necessary to repel bandits and pirates.

Tech level: Non-existant. They Steal and/or buy (if they absolutely have to) whatever they need as they need it.

[taalismn]

Gotta love booze that can make an Alien Intelligence drunk.
Oh, and DT stands for Delerium Trennumns, the after effects of being drunk. Just wanted to see if anyone would get that.

Dregk Tequila----Look for the inebriated Zembhak(HIC!*burble*) floating in the bottom of the cask....

Just for the record: if there is a worm in the bottle, that is
mezcal, not tequila.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mescal#The_worm

Adios
KLM

I stand corrected....I shall make the appropriate adjustments to Booze Reference Notes(along with my Encyclopedia of Beer, and Overview of Cheese, should I do anything Rifts-related with either of those items and want to accurately represent them...).

Hmmm...maybe a drunken Worm of Taut in the bottom of the bottle?

[taalismn]

Junty Froo-Lumps (Darned Pickpocket Menace, according to many shopkeepers)

These klepto-maniacal critters make the nearly perfect thieve, due to their inherent cuteness and small statures. .

Speak for yourself; my operating motto has always included: "It's cute, it's fuzzy, it's dopey-looking; kill it!"
This has saved my party on numerous occasions from knofe-wielding teddybears, carnivorous tribbles, and doe-eyed sneak-thieves...it has also kept the party in stew-meat, moccassins, and pelt-change through many a tough season....And I NEVER underestimate the primitive locals....I do NOT dismiss them as spear-waving savages, nor will I send men under my command out after them on hunts when I can order air strikes and area of effect FAEing instead....

And if I DO have to reincarnate as a furry little bugger, or race of them, I will dump the cuteness and grab some heavy firepower...or ideally use cuteness to lure my opponents into my sights....Nothing sez cruel heartless universe like a kitten with a fully automatic belt-fed shotgun....

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

And if I DO have to reincarnate as a furry little bugger, or race of them, I will dump the cuteness and grab some heavy firepower...or ideally use cuteness to lure my opponents into my sights....Nothing sez cruel heartless universe like a kitten with a fully automatic belt-fed shotgun....

To paraphrase Sluggy Freelance (the best darn web-comic in existence), "AAAAH! It's a kitten! Kill it!"

"A grown dragon punting a kitten that was looking the other way! Most bravest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

[Aramanthus]

Nice RCCs Roscoe! Keep up the great work!

[taalismn]

BBBBAAAAANNNNZZZAAAIIIIIIIIBBBBBUNNNNYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

[taalismn]

And if I DO have to reincarnate as a furry little bugger, or race of them, I will dump the cuteness and grab some heavy firepower...or ideally use cuteness to lure my opponents into my sights....Nothing sez cruel heartless universe like a kitten with a fully automatic belt-fed shotgun....

To paraphrase Sluggy Freelance (the best darn web-comic in existence), "AAAAH! It's a kitten! Kill it!"

"A grown dragon punting a kitten that was looking the other way! Most bravest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

Braver than you give him credit for...some of those cute little fuzzies are rigged to explode upon death/defeat....

And yes...I remember 'Satan's Kittens' and nailing the table to the door frame to keep the monsters out(but first remove the wounded guy you strapped to the table)....

[Blue Eyes]

hehe

u really wanted people to read that one lol... three times
i like the RCC, the ninjitsu hth cracked me up a little as did the idea of bunnies sniffing around. but all in all very cool. i also have an update on the Ma´log in the oven as well as a new race (no name yet) that will be rather unique.

BE

[taalismn]

All right!!!!
That was well worth waiting for!

[DhAkael]

W
T
F?!

[Blue Eyes]

YEAH!, what?

[taalismn]

He's been gobsmacked by the latest RCC....
Kinda takes you by surprise is all...

[Aramanthus]

I'm glad you found it NinjaB! Great RCC! Look like you had fun creating it!

[taalismn]

Com'on, with a name like 'Ninja Bunny'---shades of Usagi Yojimbo(sp?)---you KNOW he had fun creating it....

[DhAkael]

Com'on, with a name like 'Ninja Bunny'---shades of Usagi Yojimbo(sp?)---you KNOW he had fun creating it....

AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

[taalismn]

I think I butchered the spelling...or gave him painful flashbacks to the "Easterbunny Massacre'....

Just to be on the safe side I'll go hide behind the protection of my HOnda Civic's ninja contingent...

Not FanRace related, but related to Ninjas(sorta)...

Things you'll never hear in 'Ninja Scroll':

"Is there anybody here who is NOT a ninja? Besides the dead people, that is?"

"How about we wait until the CDC gets here before going into the dead village?"

"Count your blessings...they coulda come at us all at once...."

"Ninja swarm time-OUT! Animation penalty flag on the twelve sequentially jumping ninjas who are really one guy repeating the same move twelve times!"

"Instead of standing around this guy telling him how dead he is, why don't we just torch him from a distance?"

'I gotta bad feeling about this...can we have some priests and exorcists on hand BEFORE we all go chasing after our deaths?"

"Let's just kill the guy with the hairy eyebrows and bad teeth BEFORE he summons Satan, okay? It's not like it's going to be noticed in these violent times...."

"The sword is mighty and manly, but gunpowder is quicker and area of effect..."

"No ma'am, I'm not afraid...I happen to LIKE snakes, thank you very much!"

"How about you stand here behind cover, and -I-'ll go out and talk to your boss who we all thought had abandoned you, first?"

"I have a technique of my own to counter you lot! It's called 'radio comlink' SUMMON NINJABUNNY STEALTH GUNSHIP SQUADRON!"

(okay, so I mixed 'Ninja Scroll' and 'Ninja Resurrection'.....nuke me...)

[taalismn]

Works for me....Who expects to be jumped from empty air by vibro-blade- and pulse-rifle-weilding lupine master killers with heavy air support?

Okay, maybe paranoid lunatics with plenty of imagination, but those guys we nuke from orbit....

[Aramanthus]

LOL I see the madness has occured again! And it has claimed many minds!

[taalismn]

If this be madness...let it embrace the arc of the heavens!
(deep manicial laughter)

[Aramanthus]

I agree Taalismn! :::Manical laughter sounds from another location within the megaverse!:::

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

Bunkle
"Hmm, you appear to have a few discrepancies on lines V-28, X-13, and J-22. You also used super-duper fine print to work around what was said earlier. This is unacceptable, you will fix this, or we will have no choice but to discontinue relations with you, and spread the word on how unreliable you folks are." A Bunkle, reading a Naruni Contract offered to his friends.

The Bunkles are, essentially, a race of accountants; or at least, that’s what they appear to be. They are hard working, loyal, attentive to detail, and capable of sniffing out even the slightest discrepancy in the accounts. They work as long as necessary to find what hey are looking for, and leave no stone unturned, no idea unchecked, and are utterly relentless in general. They also have the habit of wearing thick, coke bottle glasses (especially when it’s unnecessary), black-jack visors, and clothing with just plain unfortunate colors/patterns just to accentuate that dotty image.

Bunkles are actually one of the most bizarre races in existence, S.D.C. beings that can rend Mega Damage flesh with off-putting ease! This has put them in demand as unforeseeable assassins for some communities and businesses (Naruni, anyone?), because what M.D.C. critter would expect something so frail looking, something that refuses to even carry a weapon to be a danger to them? Their strikes carry a similar effect to the DUC rounds used to combat dragons and such. Their strikes cause damage that simply does not heal as normal, taking 3-5 times longer heal, and leaving the victim in horrible pain all the while. Bunkle attacks do double damage to M.D.C. critters, and they gain an additional +3 to initiative and strike against these foes. (These special abilities only count when the attacks are with their own body, i.e. punches and kicks and such).

The Bunkles look like humanoid birds (no wings, but plenty of thick, fluffy feathers), with a long neck, thick legs, itsy-bitsy eyes, and a long, thin beak that tapers to a point. They don’t look like they could be a threat to anything, except to maybe a worm. They use this to their advantage, striking swiftly, crippling their opponents before moving in for the kill.

They don’t seem to have a home world, they have no idea where they originated from, and have no wish to find out. They love to roam, and can’t stand the idea of being stuck in one spot for more than a month at a time. They love to meet new peoples and see new places, never able to get enough of them. To facilitate this, they have a natural affinity for languages (+10% to each language, gains an extra two at character creation), and rarely put a foot wrong when meeting new friends.

Stats:
Alignment: Any of the good or selfish, never evil
Genders: Heterosexual
Lifespan: 150-200 years
Size: Five foot to Seven Foot, average weight is roughly 180-220 pounds.
Disposition: Friendly and outgoing, love to meet new people. Whatever you do, don’t let them start questioning you; once the start, they never let up, they’ll want to know everything about you from your mom’s maiden name, to your favorite brand of underoos. Once they are your friend, you have a friend for life. They will follow you into hell and back if need be, provided they get a chance to pester you with whatever questions they feel the need to ask. Won’t take a life, even that of the meanest villain unless they have no choice.
P.S.: 3d6
P.P.: 3d6
P.E.: 3d6
P.B.: 3d6
M.A.: 3d6
M.E.: 3d6
I.Q.: 3d6
SPD: 3d6
I.S.P. and P.P.E.: by O.C.C. only
H.P.: P.E. +1d6 per level
S.D.C.: 1d4x10 + 10

Natural Abilities: Ability to identify Mega Damage beings at a glance (80% at level one, +2% per additional level). See description above for more details.

Augmentation: All are applicable, but are never used except until bio-systems are available.
Psionics and Mages: roughly 20-25% of the population, rarely have/use offensive abilities, except to allow them to run away or escape.

R.C.C. Abilities: Advanced Math +10%, Accounting at 98%

Allies: Anybody who’ll let a Bunkle hang around them, whoever needs accounting done.
Enemies: Whoever wants to hurt them or their friends. They find it next to impossible to carry a grudge for more than a few years.

Culture: Accounting and assassination mainly, between bouts of wanderlust.

Military: Nonexistent; they are highly trained in various martial arts, but only used long enough to run away.

[taalismn]

OHMYGOD!
These guys will get along just GREAT with the Lawyer- and Accountant-Demons of planet Bureaucron(the only planet to completely stymie a Splugorth invasion by tying the invasion force up in so much red tape...in some cases literally....that the Splugorth Intelligence had to pay the locals to get the Kittani and Kydian vehicles out of impound....something about failure to file proper paperwork for an invasion, indiscriminant slaughter, and planetary mayhem licenses)....

And the Degolians(giant cicada-like mathematical geniuses) will also get along famously with them..the Degolians LOVE churning through actuarial tables and complex mathematical formulae for computing various values.....

[Aramanthus]

So does that mean we have a whole race we can carry out all of those Lawyer jokes on?

[Aramanthus]

This one has to stay active too!

[taalismn]

Nah...they just sic the Auditor Demons on their detractors....Got a reciept for that nice Rune Sword you got there?

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

So does that mean we have a whole race we can carry out all of those Lawyer jokes on?

Sure! Just remember, NOBODY gets the better of these guys when it comes to legal mumbo-jumbo. Not even the Naruni have managed to pull the wool over a Bunkles eyes.

And they really aren't lawyers per say, more along the lines of professional freelance bean-counters, with enough background education to breeze through whatever fine-print/smokescreen you throw into their path. And they aren't above bluffing people into thinking they have found something in the contract that isn't there, something to their advantage.

Thats not to say that they won't work for a dispicable company, they just charge them thorugh the nose and take as long as they can before turning in results.

[Aramanthus]

That is cool to know Roscoe! Thanks for the fast response!

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

All right, I've created good guys and not so good guys, and even a group of a brewmasters, so I figured it was time we had a race of dependants on this board. Here they are, my newest pride and joy, feast your eyes on...

The Hedonians

"TO-GAH TO-GAH TO-GAH TO-GAH TO-GAH!"

These beings have one thought, ‘IT’S PAR-TAY TI-YUM’! They travel from planet to planet, system to system, and partake of any and all narcotics and such the locals have to offer. Usually in massive quantities and all at once, in the attempt to get the biggest ‘rush’ or ‘high’ that they can. No narcotic, hallucinogen, or mind altering substance is safe when these fellows are in town.

They look almost identical to humans, except for each of their three, massive nostrils (each big enough to snort a cue ball), protruding eyes, and bulging full-body veins. And the fact that they all have bright green skin, with thick, purplish-blue hair (eyebrows and arm hair too) that typically hangs down to their buttocks, or even farther. And that they have an odd number of arms, usually 3-5 of them, and they have two thick, fuzzy, tentacles protruding from their shoulder blades. And they have long pointed ears that constantly drip thin, glowing, wax that reeks of rotten cabbage. Come to think of it, they really don’t look a whole like humans at all, sorry about that.

They don’t veer away from anything that they think reeks of fun, illicit or legal. If they can gain access to it, they want it, and as much as they can while they can. Due to the amount of punishment that they can take, means that they can have a whole mess of fun without a whole lot of fear of death (or other serious repercussions). This doesn’t really help them against the furious legal system from the local government, when they get caught doing something blatantly illegal or reprehensible. It just means that they are able to be punished that more severely and thoroughly.

The Hedonians come from a planet that has since been rendered uninhabitable by nuclear war and orbital bombardment. They used to be a proud race of honorable warriors, until an invading army appeared in the sky and demanded their surrender. They fought back tooth and claw, using every scrap of resources at their disposal. In the end, the Hedonians were successful, but had rendered most of the planet into a radioactive dessert, or plains of fused glass. In shame, they took to the stars, and indulged in every form of libation and drug in an attempt to forget their shameful past. Several dozen generations have since passed, and their descendants have long since forgotten what they were attempting to forget, they only live for the moment (and for their next fix). They trade their advanced medical knowledge (one of the few things they have retained) for massive amounts of drugs, as well as slaves and other physical amenities.

Stats:
Alignment: Any, but most tend to be selfish or evil
Lifespan: They are Mortal Immortals, live forever until killed.
Gender: Asexual reproduction, lays a clutch of eggs once every 50 years.
Disposition: Happy and cheerful for the most part, but act like young children for the most part. Will be smiling and happy one moment, but willing to slit your throat for a hit off a bong the next.
Size: Human sized. Averages about 300-450 pounds per person.

P.S.: 4d6
P.P.: 3d6
P.E.: 3d6
P.B.: 3d4
I.Q.: 3d6
M.A.: 3d6
M.E.: 2d6 (due to constant drug use, not even their regenerative abilities are able to help with this degenerative lifestyle.)
SPD: 4d6 (might not look it, but they are very speedy)

H.P.: P.E. +1d6 per level
S.D.C.: 20 +4d6
M.D.C.: Half H.P. and S.D.C. They cannot inflict mega damage with their bare hands, they need weaponry for that, but they can take it.
I.S.P. and P.P.E.: By occupation only

Natural Abilities: Super-Regeneration and Immortality

Augmentation: Not applicable to Hedonians, all are rejected.
Psionics and Magic: Less than 2% of the population, most are too blasted out of their skulls to be able to use the powers, even if they did have them.

Culture: Non-existent in the present; used to be fierce warriors but are just a bunch of intergalactic stoners now. They do have some bizarre rituals centering around drug use (probably the only people who issue everybody a solid, 24 karat gold bong with diamond studding around the base and neck.

Military: Nonexistent. A few have gone on to be warriors, as their ancestors were, but most are too stoned or wasted out of their minds to care.

Allies: Whoever will sell them drugs and luxury items.
Enemies: Whoever will keep them from said drugs and items.

[taalismn]

You want stoner humor?
Beware...I may bet banned...
Or hung for being a munchkin....but if you really take these guys seriously, well, you got bigger problems than me...

ZOT Spaced Marine R.C.C.

(Note: I, in no way, condone the use, distribution, or legalization of narcotics, nor do I find drug culture particularly fascinating or mind-expanding...this is pure satire, and burned out brains and oblivious natures, be they in the back alleys of lower class America, or in the washroom in the Capitol Building, are conventient targets...)


The ZOT Spaced Marines are the ZOT's answer to the genetically-augmented, bioware-pumped, magically enhanced supersoldiers that everybody seems to be trying to build at one time or other in their galactic empire building. Because the good and obvious ideas and minion races have all been taken, snapped up, or else want NOTHING to do with an organization of washed-up psuedo-deities, tricksters, and certifiably insane Elder Races as the ZOT represents, the ZOT has had to become creative...though some would say they're scraping the bottom of the barrel(or recruiting from Skidrow).
The Spaced Marine is best described as a combination of a Juicer and a Bio-Borg..a human being so saturated with narcotic chemicals and psychodelic drugs that they’ve become walking toxic waste sumps, psychoactive reactors of drug-induced bliss that walk the fine line between reality and ur-reality. These elite soldiers are so wasted and warped that they’ve partially evaporated from our mortal existance...but what they’ve left behind in the way of physical residue, makes the Incredible Hulk look like an anorexic. The fact that these muscle-bound monstrousities seem to be floating on air, totally zoned out, while toting serious battlefield artillery and armor around, makes them even more terrifying to enemies of The ZOT. About the only thing likely to stop these guys is Singapore Customs....
Spaced Marine units are organized along 'themes', sharing a common motiff that only adds to their absurdity; the HappyMen, have bright yellow globular helmets with the fearsome ‘Mr Smiley’ visage on them, the Dons have a Don Martinesque helmet(oversized chin, small eyes, doorknob-like nose), the Killer Bozos have a fanged clown mask, the Airheads have blonde wigs incorporated into their helms, etc.....
Spaced Marines are still fairly uncommon among The ZOT’s forces, owing to their recent introduction, but they are gaining in numbers. The few battles they've appeared in have been surreal affairs, to the point that even hardened foes find it hard to believe they've really been beaten, even as the Spaced Marines have marched over their heads. The ZOT Spaced Marines are one of the few military forces the Colo Dopamen genuinely FEAR, because any attempt to suborn the troopers with low-cost drugs only makes the Spaced Marines that much more powerful and likely to go after the drug-dealers in order to seize their product as 'spoils of war'. Recently, The Zot has looked into recruiting Hedonians; their predisposition towards disipation and debauchery makes them particularly easy to get to sign the enlistment forms, and their biologies are already inclined to take in massive amounts of foreign substances....
Alignment(s): Good and Selfish only
Races: Just about any SDC humanoid species can be recruited into the Spaced Marines, as long as they have the capacity to
Attribute Bonuses:
+2d6 P.S., +2d6 P.E., +2d6x10 Spd, +1d6 P.P.
MDC: PE x4 + 2d6 MD per level of experience
Special Abilities:
------Ultimate Bliss----Spaced Marines are so Out of It, that they take no notice of such mundane distractions as pain and Horror Factor. Their mental imperturbability is near absolute. Consider it equivalent to a natural Mind Block...telepaths attempting to mind bond with Spaced Marines describe the experience as drowning in a warm white nothingness, with the occasional, and irrelevant, stray thought whizzing by....(perceived in the middle of battle.........blank...blank.......blank......more blank...sex.....blank.....blank...celery......blank...)

-----Enhanced Digestive Tract---Spaced Marines can and will eat just about anything that isn’t corrosively toxic and glowing radioactive. Part of this is due to the radically-altered biochemistry of the Spaced Marine, the other part is that they are pretty much oblivious to what it is that they’re eating; be it week-old cold pizza, a fossilized mud brownie, a handful of roofing nails, or a zombie-creating drug(has NO effect on these guys).

-----Damage Resistance----ALL physical attacks do 1/10th damage, owing to the Spaced Marine’s incredibly tough, and slight out-of-phase, physique. Magic and Psionics do normal damage.

-----Psychotic Strength--Spaced Marines possess Supernatural Strength

----Personal Gravity Control----Spaced Marines are so far OUT of it that normal laws of physics have no hold on them, including gravity. Most of the time, a Spaced Marine is so head-in-the-clouds that thy actually weigh less than a feather, seemingly levitating the massive bulk of their bodies above the ground, swimming in the air, and rarely ever touching down. This, among other things, allows the Marine to survive falls from great heights, make massive leaps, prowl under the enormous weight of muscle and armor they carry, and survive the crushing gravity of high-gee travel and environments.
When at ultra-light mode, the Spaced Marine moves at a Spd of HALF normal speed, and punches do 25% less damage than normal, but possesses an automatic leap dodge, dodges at +3, and can leap 2 ft per point of Physical Strength(PS).
On the opposite side of the spectrum, when a Spaced Marine can be persuaded to concentrate on a subject (like, for instance, ‘cheese’, or ‘spoons’), they get really INTENSE....and really HEAVY...and when they get HEAVY, well...consider being under a five-ton truck when one of these guys leap-attacks you....ouch...
In heavy mode, the Spaced Marine can increase their weight to 10,000 lbs(5 tons), but is -6 to dodge, and reduce speed by 60%. On the plus side, the character now has an additional 10 MDC per 100 lbs of extra weight, and adds 1d4 MD to hand to hand damage, per 100 lbs of extra weight, up to 800 lbs.

----Sublimination---When a Spaced Marine dies on the battlefield, his body spontaneously combusts, releasing a cloud of drug-saturated vapor that also carries his chemically encoded memories and experiences. Any other Spaced Marine inhaling this smoke(in space, this means attaching a hose to the dead Marine’s armor) within 1d4 melees of his comrade’s death, will gain his departed colleague’s skills and combat bonuses, like a flatworm consuming another, for a duration of 3d6 minutes. Effects are cumulative for each dearly departed comrade snorted. This has the rather interesting effect of Spaced Marine units fighting even more fiercely the more losses they take. Up to 1d6 Marines may snort one departed comrade’s remains
After the late Marine explodes into vapor, the body shrivels into a few pieces of white char...traditionally, these remains are collected, if possible, and smoked by his surviving comrades in a ceremony of remembrance after the battle.
Another side effect of this proccess is that those marines partaking of their late friend’s spontaneous combustion-generated stash may experience periods of double vision or flashbacks of the Marine’s life and personality from time to time. Spaced Marines see this as a form of immortality, believing it to be the late Marine’s ghost hanging around inside his buddies and sneaking a drag with them every now and then.

Penalties:
Short Attention Span---Spaced Marines suffer from short attention span and short-term memory loss. Unless a skill or information is practically engraved on their minds using advanced hypno-therapy or psionics, they’re likely to forget it. The ZOT has special devices to compensate for this, including helmet-mounted audio-video recorders with playback. This means that Spaced Marines can only advance in skills that they started out with; additional ‘secondary skills’ have no special bonuses, and are the only type of skills the character can learn/pick up after initial character creation.

The Munchies----Spaced Marines suffer from the equivalent of Juicer Gluttony after combat. Typically must eat the nutritional equivalent of twice their body weight in food.....For this reason, Spaced Marine rations tend to be highly concentrated foodstuffs that pretty much satisfy immediately. On the minus side, if rations run low, as many just-conquered enemies have discovered, the victorious Spaced Marines can go on a feeding frenzy, eating out kitchens and supermarkets, or even eating the siding off houses....Taste is unimportant...these guys can and will eat a brick if it satisfies their hunger, and dopefiends have virtually no tastebuds(or rather the mental hardware to proccess what their abused tastebuds are telling them).

Combat Bonuses: +1 on initiative, +1 roll with punch, fall, or impact, automatic parry or dodge on all attacks, and +1` APM.

Magic:(Abilities/Potential):
None....Spaced Marines lack the concentration and attention span to learn magic.
Psionics: None.....their natural abilities cover most of the bases anyway.
Revelant/Special Skills:
Find Contraband(yeah..these guys know where the dope’s hidden)(+30%)
Climbing(+5%)
Movement: Zero-Gravity
Hand to Hand: Martial Arts
WP Knife
WP Energy Pistol
WP Energy Rifle
Select 4 other W.P.s of choice
Other Skills: Choose 6 other skills
Communications: Any
Domestic: Any
Electrical: Basic Electronics only
Espionage: Any, but usually Detect Ambush, Detect Concealment (the latter two are largely by accident...GMs and ‘players, use both your discretion and your imagination)
Mechanical: Basic and Automotive only
Medical: First Aid only
Military: Any
Physical: Any, except Acrobatics
Pilot: Any,
Pilot Related: Any
Rogue: Any
Science: Basic Math only
Technical: Any
W.P.: Any
Wilderness: Identify Plants and Fruits only(+15% to identify any plants or fungi with hallucenigenic or other mind-altering chemical properties)
Secondary Skills: Select 5 Secondary Skills at Level One, 2 more at levels 4, 8, and 12
Experience Tables:
Use the Dragon Juicer tables

Cybernetics/Bionics: None to start out with...may recieve them as medical prosthetics later, but Spaced Marines have the shocking habit of misplacing their cybernetic or bionic limbs...somehow.

Money: You joking? Trust a dopefiend with money? That’s what the bean-counting Caffine Fiends are for! The ZOT supplies its Spaced Marines with all that they need...food, housing, recreation, chemical sustenance, and whatnot...occasionally, one may find a Spaced Marine with a little spending money jangling in their pockets on shoreleave in a drug-haven like the Paradise Foundation worlds, but this is the exception, not the rule.
Standard Equipment/Possessions:
Spaced Marine Armor, two weapons of choice with 6 clips/reloads for them, 10 grenades(Marine’s choice), vibro-blade, folded survival tent/bubble, ganja pipe, 1d6 doses/hits of the Marine’s drug of choice, a canteen, and rations for two weeks.


Spaced Marine Armor----This is an incredibly heavy and sturdy suit of armor patterned after the TGE Legionnaires’ own armor, only much heavier, but with a number of additions inspired by similar heavy suits used by the Spectral Dragoons of the Rainbow Galaxy and their Veil Guard. The ZOT suits, however, are done in eye-blindingly bright tie-dye patterns, and are coated in highly reflective, laser-resistant polish(lasers do HALF damage). The Spaced Marine armor has also occasionally been mistaken for the Coalition’s “No Neck Mauler” power armor(which is also an apt description of the Marines inside the armor).
MDC/Armor by Location:
Head 100
Arms(2) 100 each
Legs(2) 120 each
Main Body 300
Note: Since Spaced Marines effectively control their own gravity, they suffer no penalties from weight encumbrance...hence no stats on weight or speed have been included(naaah naaah!)

Weapons Systems:
1) Mini-Missile Launcher---Mounted on the back is a four-shot mini-missile launcher
Range: Varies by missile type
Damage: Varies by missile type
Rate of Fire: Volleys of 1, 2, 3, or 4
Payload: 8

2) Chest-Mounted ‘Dirty Harry’ Light Autocannon---Mounted on one shoulder/breast plate is a lightweight snub-nosed mini-cannon. The cannon is fed through an over-the-shoulder belt leading to a backpack mini-canister. The cannon barrel can move 45 degrees in all directions.
Range: 2,000 ft
Damage: 5d6 MD single shot, 2d6x10 MD per 10 rd burst
Rate of Fire: EPCHH
Payload: 100 rd drum
OR:
The Autocannon can be replaced by a light plasma cannon. Less damage, but limitless shots
Range: 2,000 ft
Damage: 4d6 MD per blast
Rate of Fire: EPCHH
Payload: Effectively unlimited

3) Forearm Mini-Missile Launchers---Each oversized forearm guantlet mount conceals a mini-missile launcher.
Range: Varies by missile type
Damage: Varies by missile type
Rate of Fire: EPCHH
Payload: 4 shots per forearm

4) Forearm Vibroblades--Each forearm sports three retractable vibroblades.
Range: Melee
Damage: 3d6 MD

5) Option Hardpoints----The Spaced Marine armor mounts two backpack hardpoints for carrying additional weapons pods, one on each side of the mini-missile launcher
a) Mini-Missile Tubes---The equivalent of the CM-22 ‘ missile rifle’. Each launcher has 20 mini-missiles
b) ‘Stinger’ Anti-Aircraft Short-Range Missile Tubes---Each cluster pod consists of three encapsulated high-tech short-range anti-aircraft missiles with IR, thermographic, and Gravitic homing sensors. Each missile is +7 to strike, has a range of 5 miles, and does 2d4x10 MD.
c) Medium Range Missile Launcher-----(2 per hardpoint)
d) Anti-Armor ‘Bunker Buster’ Missile----(1 per hard point)(10 mile range, 4d6x10 MD)
e) ‘Spud Gun’ Breech-loading Mortar----Essentially a drum-fed howitzer mounted on the back. Each cannon has 45-degree elevation up/down. The weapons earned the nickname ‘Spud Guns’ because the drug-adled Marines thought the projectiles looked like flying potatoes or turnips.....dopeheads, go figure.
Range: 5,000 ft direct fire, 2 miles indirect fire(-5 to strike unless the target is visible)
Damage:
(Fragmentation) ----1d4x10 MD to 20 ft blast radius
(High Explosive)---does 2d6x10 MD to 50 ft blast radius
(Plasma)---Mini-Nuke; does 4d6x10 MD to 60 ft blast radius
(Dope Smoke)----White Smoke; Anyone breathing in the vapors must roll versus non-lethal poison or be -4 to initiative, -2 actions/attacks per melee, and -15% to skill performance for 2d6 minutes. Extremely useful for mellowing out riotous crowds or swarms of angry Xiticix. Covers a 50 ft blast radius
(Spore Shell)---Packed with either Dehibicilia or Dragonila microbe spores(The ZOT acquired large growth stocks and cultures of these little nasties when they raided Atlantis...see Rifts: Atlantis, pg 112 for details). Each shell covers a 15 ft radius with spores(more if wind conditions permit)
(Psycho-Shell)---Glowing psychodelic vapor; attacks the nervous system through skin absorption. Victim must save versus lethal poison or be trapped in a hallucination of their own creation for 2d6 minutes. The victim is completely oblivious to events around them, and may be violent and aggressive, or passive and docile. A successful save means the victim is still -8 to initiative, -4 to strike, parry, and dodge as they try to find off its affects. 20 ft blast radius
Note: Other munitions options not covered/detailed here(because I ‘m too lazy) include Super Storm Flares(range and duration x5), Globe of Daylight shells(range and duration x 10), nerve gas and herbicide shells, incendiary rounds, and TW munitions.
Rate of Fire: ECHH
Payload: 30 rds per mortar

f) Long Range Missile---Impossible as it may seem, some Spaced Marines feel the need to carry the biggest darn firecracker they can carry...such as an LRM! Because they lack the fire controland sensors to accurately aim and fire the darned things, they can either fire the thing on line of sight or depend on the missile's own 'fire and forget' (and many Spaced Marines DO forget about the thing once they've fired it) onboard sensors. Only one missile can be carried.

g) Stereo Speakers---Takes up BOTH hardpoints...essentially a really, really, REALLY badass stereo system for letting your enemies know where you are, and that you know they know, and don’t care a flying damn about it because you’re grooving to your own high-fidelity, heavy metal, sonic apocalypse. Play bagpipe music on this and you’ll probably wake the dead. This option is particularly popular with Spaced Marine formations supporting the Ravers.
At close range, this option can be ramped up to literally knock people off their feet, creating a concussion wave and sonic boom.
Range: Can be heard for 12 miles.
(Concussion Wave/Sonic Boom): 1,000 ft with 60-degree area of effect or 500 ft blast radius centered on the ‘Marine
Damage: Aside from a wanging headache after listening to 10 minutes or more of theis stuff(Save versus psionics or be -2 to initiative, and -10% to skill rolls while listening to this stuff; headache disipates within 1d6 minutes after the music stops), no appreciable damage
(Concussion Wave/Sonic Boom): Windows shatter, structures rattle, and everything caught inside the shockwave takes 4d6 MD. Persons in MDC armor, even with ear protection, take HALF that damage in SDC from being rattled around inside their own armor, and persons in power armor take 1/4 that damage.
Also, like a boom gun, victims are -8 to initiative, -3 to strike, parry, and dodge, and will be deafened for 2d4 minutes(1d4 minutes if wearing easr protection or armor)
Rate of Fire: Can fire off a sonic boom twice per melee

‘ZAPPO’ Multi-Function Mega-Gun
This massive multi-function infantry cannon was developed originally for the Spaced Marines, but it has since become popular with other super-strong members of The ZOT corporate imperium as well. The ZAPPO-Gun is designed around the idea that the Spaced Marines might face ANYTHING on a mission, without prior warning, so rather than carry several different weapons, most of which might not be used in the course of a mission, the ZOT decided to combine several different types of destruction in one weapon, and hope for the best. This (hopefully) keeps the Spaced Marine from having to fumble through his web-gear, bandoliers, and pockets looking for an appropriate weapon, and forget about the oncoming enemy in the process.
The ZAPPO-Gun is a massive, bulbous-ended rifle that has six different weapons aperatures grouped around the muzzle-bulb; a small Variable Frequency pulse laser, a plasma cannon, a particle beam cannon, a small phase beamer, a cryogenic freezeray, and a railgun cannon. These various weapons are all powered by a ZOT power-crystal catalyzed micro-fusion generator in the stock of the weapon, and can fire seperately, or in concert. To help offset the massive weight and mass of the ZAPPO-Gun, it is equiped with its own special micro-minituature contra-grav coil, just powerful enough to offset its weight.
Just to add further pain and misery, a three-shot mini-missile launcher or eight-shot micro-missile launcher can be clipped under the business-end for even more fun.
If the ZAPPO-Gun has one major problem, it’s the relatively short range of the various component weapons....to be truly effective, the Spaced Marines must get close and personal with an enemy before letting them have a full salvo of hurt...fortunately, though, getting close is a Spaced Marine specialty.
Weight: 90 lbs
Range:(Variable Frequency Pulse Laser) 2,000 ft
(Plasma Cannon) 1500 ft
(Particle Beam) 4,000 ft
(Phase Beamer) 800 ft
(Cryogen Ray) 600 ft
(Rail Gun) 2,000 ft (range x 10 in space)
*(Mini-Missile Launcher)Varies by missile type(range x10 in space)
*(Micro-Missile Launcher) 2,500 ft(25,000 ft in space)
Damage:(Variable Frequency Pulse Laser) 3d6 MD per shot, 6d6 MD per double pulse burst
(Plasma Cannon) 5d6 MD per blast
(Particle Beam) 1d6x10 MD per blast
(Phase Beamer) 4d6 SDC to SDC beings, 5d6 MD to mega-damage beings and forcefields....works through body armor, and all other aspects of Phase Beamer weaponry remain the same.
(Cryogen Ray) 6d6 MD, plus, can be used to freeze shut doors, or create a wall of ice(can create 10 cubic feet of ice per attack, in any dimensions). 10 ft of superhard ice has 2d6 MD. The ice cannon can also be used to incapcitate an opponent by encasing a limb, similar to the Superpower: Alter Physical Structure: Ice....Use bonuses and penalties from the Rifts Conversion Book, pg. 45 for details on ice attacks
(Note: If combined with a simultaneous plasma blast, the two weapons do 1d6x10+20 MD from thermal shock)
(Rail Gun) 3d6 MD per shot
*(Mini-Missile Launcher) Varies by missile type
*(Micro-Missile Launcher) 6d6 MD per standard missile

Firing ALL weapons simultaneously at targets within 600 ft or less does 5d6x10 MD! Takes 4 attacks though.
Rate of Fire: ECHH
Payload: (Energy Weapons)Conditionally Unlimited; 100 shot battery, recharges at 5 shots per hour
(Rail Gun) 100 shot drum in stock(weighs 20 lbs)
*(Mini-Missile Launcher) 3
*(Micro-Missile Launcher) 8, revolver-style launcher magazine
Special Features:
*Contrav-Gravity Generator---This micro-contra-grav generator helps counteract the weight of the massive weapon, but not its inertia. If dropped, th weapon will slowly and gently bob alongside its user, until pulled down. Occasionally, non-Spaced Marines have used the ZAPPO-Gun as an impromptu lifter platform, using its C-G generator to levitate themselves, while astraddle the massive weapon, to altitudes of up to 500 ft
*Sensor Package---Includes the following:
Telecopic Optics
Passive Nightvision
Thermo-Imaging
Laser Tageting---+1 to strike
Laser Spectrograph---By playing the targeting laser over the target and reading the reflected light, the micro-computer in the sensor package can do a quick spectrographic analysis and determine if its organic or inorganic, or energy, its general physical/chemical makeup, and possible weaknesses. This includes the suggested penetrating wavelengths for variable frequency lasers attacking laser-resistant armor. Takes 1 melee to proccess the information and display it.
PPE-Sensor----400 ft range(out to 800 ft w/ 50% error in aura determination), 60-degree arc, and can detect invisible enemies(See Rifts: Jaapn, pg 116 for details on the SNARLD system on which this weapon is ultimately based)
IR/Normal Light Spotlight---300 ft range

Vocal Interface---This allows the gun’s systems to talk to the Spaced Marine, advising the user as to gun status, energy/ammo levels, target locks, and recommended sources of action when facing new foes...It’s not very articulate, considering who it’s supposed to talk to.....”Use Plasma Gun”, “Use Missile”, “Use Something Else”, and “Run Away” are pretty much the sort of articulate conversation it can carry on, but this means that it still often comes across as brighter than its users.
Cost: *EXCLUSIVE TO THE ZOT*

[taalismn]

More substance-abuse humor...but it's a substance we can all relate to...

Caffeine Fiend
(Aka ‘CFs”, CFiends”, “Fiends”)

“Sleep...sleep?...Haven’t slept since 1980...ain’t it WILD?”

“We’ve secretly replaced the fine coffee normally served here in this upscale office complex with Folger’s Decaf Special Instant....let’s see if they can tell the difference!” “*PTUI!*AAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!*GNASH***CHOKE***GAsP***SACRILEGE!!!! MURDER!!!!MURDERMOSTFOUL!!!!TRANSGRESSION!!!!ABOMINATION!!!!!!*SPITSPUMERETCH*SLAY THE UNGODLY WHO TAMPER WITH OUR PRECIOUS BODILY FLUIDS!!!!!”
“Hey! Wait! What’s the matter with you!!!??? No! Stop! STOP!!!! Get away from us!!! Hey! IT WAS JUST A COMMERCIAL!!! PUT THAT DESK DOWN!!! THAT’S AN OPEN ELEVATOR SHAFT!!!!NO!NO! PUT ME DOWN!!!!!WE DIDN’T MEAN IT!!! WE....”

The Zot Caffeine Fiend, like the Zot Spaced Marine, is a chemically augmented warrior combining aspects of the Crazy with the Phaze Mystic. Whereas the Spaced Marine may be the Titan Juicer equivalent(albeit on different sorts of drugs), the Caffeine Fiend is the Hyperion, or Crazy of the bunch(although, ironically, the use of caffeine to accelerate the physical performance of the CF makes it the Juicer of the two, while the side-warping, mind-altering drug regimen of the Spaced Marine makes it the Crazy). The inception of the character class came after several members of the sprawling neo-bureaucracy of the cosmic Discordia Alliance(predecessor to the Zot) had occasion to watch several overworked underling staffers under the influence of massive amounts of coffee. After some thought(about five seconds) the decision was made to develop a new class of warrior from the observed effects. This development work was well underway when The Zot broke away, began its recruitment drive, grabbed up all the case studies and research, and the new warrior class was subsequently incorporated into The Zot’s revised Table of Organization.
One doesn’t volunteer to become a Caffeine Fiend; one spontaneously becomes one...the most often recruited candidates are near-invisible round-the-clock, workaholic, office drones who spend one all-nighter too many chewing coffee grounds, or slogging away on their computers with the soda machine pulled across the office and parked next to their cubicles. These normally rather unremarkable folks have the distinction of breaking the barrier of physical tolerance, and walking onto the Other Side. The next day, these office workers received a priority letter informing them they’d been recruited(i.e. dragooned) into a life of spectacular adventure as the newest members of the The Zot Caffeine Corps.
While the Spaced Marine seems dazed and blissfully stoned, and the average Space Amazon hopped up on hormonal/adrenal overdrive, the Caffeine Fiend is twitchy, hyperactive, jumpy, and constantly keyed up, running a mile a minute in place. Anyone unfamiliar with the Caffeine Fiend can easily mistake them for a Juicer on Final Call; they seem ready to bust out of their own skins, are in a near-permanent state of jitters, and are simply crawling around inside their clothes. Caffeine Fiends make great scut-workers, because they’re generally too keyed up for anything as relaxing and time-intensive as sex, and sleep is a stranger to them.....Caffeine Fiends typically have no lives of their own, aside from constant worship at the automated altars of their god, Juan Valdez, and his holy messengers, Mr. Coffee, Folgers, and Maxwell House.
Caffeine Fiends get along best with people of like mind and attitude...Crazies make the best company, as do fellow hackers, techno-geeks, and office drones. Among their enemies, Caffeine Fiends are particularly ill-disposed towards vampires, since they too are creatures of long nights, who often make the lives of the C-Fiends that much more uncomfortable by sucking all the blood out of the all-night pizza delivery boy, or scoring on that cute thing in the Accounting day shift the Fiend’s been trying to impress.
When Caffeine Fiends aren’t out finding the enemies of The Zot, they’re happily employed as computer software consultants, mail clerks, nightwatchmen, RPG designers, and accountants, spending long hours at the office, working around the clock without complaint. Given the sheer size and scale of the Zot corporate bureaucracy, this means that the Zot has a rather large, and socially invisible, secret reserve of super-powered warriors that not even the mainstream Spaced Marines and Space Amazon employees/minions/devotees are aware of ...all that they know is that as long as there’s some slub willing to do the grotty work for them at the office, and free them up to get back to partying, they’re cool. Thus, Caffeine Fiends are really the unsung heroes of the Zot lifestyle.

Alignment(s): Good and Selfish...as wage-slave retreads, few of them have the enlightened self-interest to make effective bad guys.
Attribute Bonuses: +2d6 to PP, + 2d6 to PE, +1d6x10 to SPD.
Special Abilities:
Wired Reflexes----The Caffeine Fiend is so keyed up that they make Crazies look like they’re wired with Walkmans in their skulls, instead of neuro-accelerator gear(reflected in the P.P. bonus). See Combat Bonuses.

Always Alert----CFs are always aware of their environment(except when in Fugue State--See below) and can NEVER be taken by surprise. +3 to Perception (if you use it)

Multiple Images---The CF can twitch so violently that they can create multiple images of themselves, as they zip back and forth, like an electric fan blade. The Caffeine Fiend can create up to 1 additional ‘shadow’ of himself every two levels of experience, starting at level 1. Maximum range of ‘shadows’ is 4 ft.

Sleeplessness----The Caffeine Fiend knows sleep as a distant stranger; these guys can go without sleep for up to three weeks, and require only an hour of rest(catnaps really) per 24 hour period.

Offensive Mind Block---Trying to tap into the mind of a Caffeine Fiend with a telepathic probe is akin to playing in the freeway...there’s so much nervous activity going on that the intruding psychic has to roll versus psionic attack or take 1d6 Hit Point damage from psychosomatic stress...

Intangibility---The Caffeine Fiend can shake so hard and vibrate so fast under the influence of his drug of choice that he can vibrate through solid matter. However, this takes a toll on the ‘Fiend’s physique, and they can only maintain this state of intangibility for as long as their endurance holds up, before needing to stop and rest. Intangibility duration is the Caffeine Fiend’s PE in melees(1 melee x PE),Speed is reduced to 1/3 in this state. Recovery time is TWICE the Intangibility duration actually spent in minutes, before the character can try again

Invulnerability to Physical Transformation--A Fiend’s cellular structure doesn’t hold still long enough to be transformed, and any vampire who holds one down long enough to sink his teeth in will take 1d6 HP from the high pressure, extremely toxic, brew of chemical-laden blood that comes shooting out like a pinhole in a firehose.

Computer Expertise--Because many CFs were in computer oriented careers when they ‘crossed over’, and indeed it was the stress of their jobs which forced them to caffeine dependancy, CFs have a rare aptitude for working with computers. Seated before a computer keyboard, a Caffeine Fiend’s normal shakiness is replaced by blinding speed---the CF types at ten times his normal rate, and he or she gets TWICE his Actions/Attacks per melee if they are as computer-linked actions(i.e.. programming or video games). The CF also gets a +15% to ALL computer skills(EXCEPT Repair).

Fugue State---This represents an acute state of deep, deep, deep, deep, and I mean DEEP concentration on one task that allows the Fiend to access the deepest depths of genius. Whatever the task, debugging a computer, doing the taxes, writing the command protocols for a Doomsday Machine, repairing an alien bio-robot, or building a ship in a bottle, the Fiend in Fugue will bring mastery, genius, and white hot intensity to it, making it their sole focus in life.
Entering a Fugue State will require 1d6 melees of preparation, warming to the task, collection of one’s wits, and more than a few extra chugs of caffeine to get in the mood. At the beginning of the Fugue State, the Fiend must also select up to FOUR skills that they will use while working.
While in Fugue State, the Fiend will get a +15% to all skills that they chose to bring to bear on the project, time to complete the task will be HALF what it would take a normal person, and the Fiend loses ALL penalties related to their shaking state, as they can concentrate intensely enough to overcome their normal twitching. This is in ADDITION to the skill bonuses the CF normally gets from training. So a Caffeine Fiend working on repairing a computer system, normally a -15% to skill roll owing to their shaking hands, in Fugue State, actually effectively gets a +30% to the roll! On the other hand, if the Fiend should encounter an explosive device wired into the computer they're repairing, and they did NOT select Demolitions Disposal as one of the skills they concentrated on at the beginning of the Fugue, they only get a +15% because their hands aren’t shaking enough to disrupt their work.
Unfortunately, while in Fugue State, the Fiend is pretty much oblivious to their surroundings, losing their alertness, making them vulnerable to attack and injury. While in Fugue, the CF is -4 to initiative, strike, parry, dodge, and roll.
Also, should the CF come to an impasse in the work because it requires skills they elected not to concentrate on at the onset of the Fugue, and they decide that they need the extra bonuses to the skill, they must abandon the Fugue and start it again, after re-selecting the desired skills. This interruption takes 4d6 minutes of preparation, grumbling, and cursing, usually accompanied with a quick smoke, a few more cups of coffee, and half a sandwich before the CF announces the resumption of his Fugue with a shouted ‘Eureka! It’s so SIMPLE! Why didn’t I see it before!?’ and getting back to work.
Interrupting a Fugue carries its own risks as the Fiend will be most displeased initially with being distracted from their task, even if it is to tell them that a driverless truck with its brakes out is heading right at them. An interrupted Fiend may be surly, sullen, or outright aggressive, responding with an Evil Eye glare, mumbled obscenity about the interrupter’s family lineage, or with foam around the mouth, and hands securely clamped around the offending party’s throat. In addition, for the next 1d4 melees, the Caffeine Fiend will be -1 to initiative, strike, parry, dodge, and roll, as they try to catch up to the rest of the world.

Absorb Caffeine---While drinking caffeine is the preferred way of consumption, Fiends have evolved the ability to spontaneously absorb caffeine from any source in a ten ft radius, like a black hole....rendering all sodas, candy bars, tea, and coffee in their immediate presence decaf. This process is accompanied by a loud sucking sound , and takes two melee actions to accomplish.

Combat Bonuses: (in addition to attribute bonuses) +2 Dodge, +2 Parry, +1 Roll, +2 Initiative, and Automatic Dodge
Hit Points: (Non-MDC-realms) 1d6x10
SDC: (Non-MDC-realms) 2d6x10 SDC
MDC: 2d6x10 + P.E., +4d6 per level of experience
Magic:(Abilities/Potential): NONE----Their special Caffeine-derived abiliities prevent them from learning or acquiring magic. Not even magical symbiotes or parasites will help them(the critters can’t match their metabolisms to the Fiends’, unless the Fiend is dead...)
Psionics: (Special) Caffeine Fiends’ nervous systems are at a very high level of stimulation, and this is reflected in their psionic abilities:
Caffeine Fiends can select any FOUR powers from the Sensitive category, and an additional 1d4 from any of the other categories except Super. Select an additional ability from any category, including Super, at levels 4, 8, and 12.
Caffeine Fiends save as Major psychics
Limitations:
Caffeine Dependency---A Caffeine Fiend needs caffeine...at least 12 cups of office coffee equivalent per 24 hours, or 10 cans of a highly caffeinated soft drink(Mountain Dew, for instance), though most Fiends are more comfortable taking in 20-25 cups equivalent.
A Caffeine Fiend can go 48 hours without caffeine, but it will be an increasingly anxious time for them.
After the 48 hours are up, the Caffeine Fiend will start suffering withdrawal symptoms as normal sleep patterns, long denied, try reasserting themselves. Bonuses and skill efficiency are slashed by HALF after 48 hours, and by 2/3 after four days without caffeine. After 4 days reduce MDC by HALF
Eventually, the Fiend will lapse into a stupor after seven days without caffeine, lose their MDC(reverts to SDC), and then into a coma, that will last until caffeine is re-introduced into their system.

Excessive Twitchiness---Caffeine Fiends suffer -15% to skills requiring very fine control, like electronics, demolitions disposal, or computer repair(note, however, that they actually get BONUSES for computer operation and programming).

Reduced Physical Beauty---- The excessive use of caffeine tends to burn out the more aesthetic characteristics of the Caffeine Fiend’s bod; -1d6 to PB attribute thanks to the bags under the bloodshot eyes, twitching agitation, and pale skin. No, it’s NOT the ‘Innsmouth Look’...it’s what you get for going on a ‘Mountain Dew’ bender....

Social Horror Factor---There’s something about the twitchy, frantic, obsessive attitudes of Caffeine Fiends, sorta like Peter Lorrie on amphetamines, that is a real turn-off for other people, especially the opposite gender....Anyone coming within 6 ft of a ‘Fiend must roll versus Horror Factor of 9 or else be instantly repulsed/run in fear(if only to avoid being sprayed with coffee from a twitching coffee cup)...It’s not impossible for a CF to get some action on the side...it’s just very, very unlikely.

Chance Insanity---Sleep deprivation does wonders for one’s sanity, as does seeing the world as it really is..Every 3 levels of experience, the Caffeine Fiend must make a roll versus insanity, or pick up a Random Insanity

Relevant/Special Skills:
Pilot Automobile(+10%)
Math Basic(+15%)
Language/Literacy---American-English and Techno-can(both at 98%), and select 4 other different languages and literacy in them, all at +15%
Computer Operation(+15%)
Hand to Hand: Basic*
Four W.P.s of choice

*Can be upgraded to Expert for one ‘other’ skill, or martial arts/assassin for two ‘other’ skill selections.

Other Skills: Select 10 ‘Other ‘ skills at Level One, plus an additional two at level 3, and one at levels 6. 9, and 12.
Communications: Any(+10%)
Domestic: Any(+5%)
Electrical: Any
Espionage: Any(+10% to Detect Ambush and Intelligence---the former because of their perception, the latter because of the tendancy of many allnighters to become conspiracy fanatics)
Mechanical: Any
Medical: First Aid only
Military: None
Physical: Any
Pilot: Any(+5%)
Pilot Related: Any(+10%)
Rogue: Any
Science: Any
Technical: Any(+5%), ALL computer skills(comp. op., comp. prog. and hacking) are at +15%
W.P.: Any
Wilderness: None
Secondary Skills: Select five secondary skills without the benefit of any bonuses
Experience Tables: Use the Crazy Experience Charts

Cybernetics/Bionics: None
Equipment/Possessions:
Massive 5 gallon insulated thermos, 8 packets of instant coffee mix, six cans of soda(Zot brand)*, siphon helmet with liquid reservoirs, a pack of Infinitely Resharpening Pencils(no matter how many times you sharpen them down, they keep growing to keep up...incidently, they do 1d6 HP to vampires), 1-4 pens(many with special features the Caffeine Fiends play with when bored, like chemical squirters, concealed lasers, or retractable stilettos), office supply kit with erasers, paper clips(16% carry silver-plated paper clips... 1d4 HP to vampires)
For combat, CFiends are issued a suit of medium MDC Armor or ‘Miracle Fiber’ megadamage fabric armor akin to the Chinese Geofront’s ‘Shadow’ armor(50-60 MDC)(designed to look like their favorite geek-wear...rumpled office wear, or grease-stained overalls), special ‘chug-helmet’ with two cup/can-holders and draw straws to the mouth, four weapons of choice, with 1d6 clips/reloads for each of them, gas mask/air filter, and 1-6 grenades/cans of highly carbonated caffinated beverage(see below).

Money: Caffeine Fiends are traditionally underpaid for their expertise(that’s why they work so hard...or else they really, really, enjoy their jobs), and typically only have 3d6x10 credits on them for immediate use . Those in Zot service typically get a small apartment and hardly-used bed, office cubicle/cubbyhole with comfortable chair and computer, free office supplies(that the Fiend often steals to sell on the Black Market), and the basics of life, in addition to free caffeine.

*Zot approved Caffeine Fiend sodas are not your average store brands.....produced under a variety of names ( Xplode!, Lunge, Zombie, LazarusLime, Angina, and Blast! to name a few), these sodas have at least ten times the caffeine content of Jolt! and enough carbonation to make them a nifty hand grenade if shaken hard and thrown(treat as a fragmentation grenade, does 2d4 MD to a 20 ft radius, plus 6d6 HP to vampires caught in the watery blast) . CFiends will typically use their Absorb Caffeine ability to suck all the stimulant out of their cans, THEN use them as grenades.

Special Equipment:

*Soda Can Streetsweeper---Based on an actual publicity device(intended for use at sporting events, and never used, because of the likely lawsuits from being smacked in the eye with a can of soda), this multi-chambered automatic shotgun/grenade launcher fires cans of soda(or other highly carbonated liquid) at high velocity to devastating effect. It’s basically a big-bore grenade launcher that can incidentally accommodate conventional projectile grenades as well.
Range: 1,500 ft
Damage: Varies by Grenade Type, but adds 1d6 MD if fired directly at a target
Rate of Fire: Standard
Payload: 8 grenades

*Caffine Grenades---As noted earlier, Zot-issue brand sodas contain a truly appalling amount of caffine, chemical preservatives and sweetners, and sugar...so much so, that anyone struck with the liquid(on bare skin or bodily orifice), must immediately roll versus non-lethal poison, or suffer the equivalent of diabetic shock....
Damage:Does 2d4 MD to a 20 ft radius, plus 6d6 HP to vampires caught in the watery blast, plus anyone organic and alive must save versus non-lethal poison(12 or better) or start twitching like Saint Vitrius’s Dance(-10 to strike, parry, and dodge, and HALVE everything else, like skill rolls and APMs) for roughly 4d6 minutes. Victim will also be unable to sleep for 1d4 days straight, resulting in possible crankiness and secondary psychological effects.

[Aramanthus]

Very nice and very funny! Good job Taalismn and Roscoe!

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

[Looks at what Taalismn wrote, blinks, reads it again]

Bwahahahahahaha!

Oh my GOD! I tip my hat to the reigning King of Species Creation! Long Live Taalismn The Provider! All hail the Mighty Information Monger!

In all seriousness, those are a couple of absolutely hilarious (and incredibly cool) races. I can just see a Hedonian hanging out with a couple of Spaced Marines and a Caffeine Fiend or four. All of them with their heads in individual fifty-gallon drums chugging away for all their worth…

Of course it would make for a few ackward points (“Who ate my &#@$*&*#^ Twinkies! They were deep-fried, rolled in garlic and filled with chocolate!” “Oh, crud. Those were yours?” SMASH SMASH!).

[taalismn]

I can see them suddenly blinking and going;
"REFRIGERATOR RAIDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Thank you very much

But credit goes to Roscoe for his hedonistic slackers which prompted me to dust off the ZOT minions...

[Aramanthus]

Those are funny Taalismn! LOL Please keep them coming!

[taalismn]

Roscoe and I will try(along with anybody else who's welcome to contribute)...

Okay, we've got lawsuit-bringers, videogame couch potatoes, common dudes, handy helpful squid, galactic garbage men, athletes, partiers, dopefiends, treehuggers, vampire-hunters, accountants, walking nukes, killer rabbits, all-nighters....what other galactic social niches need be filled?

[taalismn]

Hmmm...okay, folks, give us your gearheads...Why should the Men-Rahl and the Munro have all the fun?

[taalismn]

To move those Spaced Marine legions into place to shock and horrify the enemies(and those who didn't know they were enemies) of The ZOT...

Spaced Marines ‘Ridgemont’ Ground Assault Transport

Here’s what a rogue’s gallery of victims of the Spaced Marines have to say about the Ridgemont:

“Damn thing looks like the Guild Steersman’s tank from the beginning of that old movie ‘Dune’....huge, dark, ugly, rude, and stinking of mind altering drugs...and the Spaced Marines riding inside are just as ugly...and they’re just as likely to take it inside somebody’s front room as leave it outside...Happened to me once, those potheads!”

“Front room?! They stopped at the FRONT room for you!? Those damn bastards ran THREE of those things into my the front lobby of my office, then chased me all the way into the executive washroom before they bothered disembarking.....Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be trapped cowering inside a toilet stall while a hundred tons of warmachine is sitting just outside, while its crew try to make up their stoned minds whether they want to take you alive or just run you over?! Do you?!!!!”

“I have full confidence in our advanced, state of the art, high magery, defense perimeter to keep those miscreants out...”
WHAMCRUMBLECRUMBLECRUMBLESHOVESLAMWHUNCHTHAT’SGOINGTOCOSTYOUBIGBUCKSTOREPLACETHUDRUMBLESHATTERCRUNCHHOPETHATWASN’TMINGDYNASTYWHAMWHAMWHAMCLATTERWUNCHCRUNCH
“...then again I never did trust your shoddy workmanship, Sebastian...now, will you stal...see what those gentlemen want while I slip....tidy up my office to recieve them?”

'THEY'RE MUNCHKINS! MUNCHKINS! MUNCHKINS! MUN---Oh, nertz, they heard me! AIIIIiiiiieeeeeeee.......!!!!!"

As part of its reorgamization and rearmament programs, The Zot decided that its Spaced Marine legions were far too valuable to risk in the Dastard MBTs and MegaBoozer APCs that had made up the bulk of their ground force vehicles. Though inexpensive, tough, and reliable, the Dastards and Boozers had originally been intended to transport Alliance of Discordia’s, and later the Zot’s, robotic legions of Dunderbotz and other mechanical minions. The Zot decided that the Spaced Marines needed a unique vehicle more aptly suited to their particular and peculiar needs, and so commissioned a new vehicle just for them; a combination APC and main battle tank capable of transporting a platoon of Spaced Marines to the front in relative comfort, and take them through the enemy without stopping. They succeeded TOO well with the Ridgemont in the opinion of many...
The Ridgemont Ground Cruiser looks like a cross between a Cadillac and a ground-hugging submarine, with a long, cylindrical, streamlined body, conning tower sensor array, high emblemed prow with figurehead, flange-fin missile launcher appendages, and a low-slung ramming ‘beak’. The ‘Ridgemont’ is a low-level contra-grav vehicle, coasting quietly just a foot or two above the ground on its A-G fields. Externally, the ‘Ridgemont’ is stoutly armored with curved fire-deflecting plates and a thick shell of cast foam inertonite that sheds enemy fire like water off a duck. Despite its massive size---it’s nearly the size of the heavier Megaboozer----the ‘Ridgemont’ holds a much smaller number of troops than the ‘bot carrier. This is because Spaced Marines, despite their drugged behavior, are individually more powerful than a squad of Dunderbotz, and a whole heck of alot chunkier.
Armament is abundant, consisting of no less than four twin-mount heavy energy weapons, a set of vertical missile launch silos in the dorsal aft end, a brace of smaller missile launchers for anti-aircraft defense, close-in defensive energy cannons, an offensive plasma force shield, and a heavy ramming beak for charging through obstacles, in addition to its complement of lethal warriors.
Inside, the interior is comfortable and smoky. The ‘Ridgemont’ incorporates a special life support system that keeps the interior atmosphere thick with narcotic smoke, keeping the Spaced Marines in fighting trim. Unfortunately, this also means that the craft is virtually unusable by anyone else, who doesn’t have self-contained breathing apparatus or no need to breath; the narco-smoke can quickly overwhelm and sedate anyone who takes a lungful of the stuff.
The Ridgemont is nominally operated by a crew of Spaced Marines trained in its operation...although hardly able to pass a sobriety test, the Spaced Marines are actually quite profficient at driving the multi-tonned war machines effectively onto, across, over, around, under, through, and occasionally into, the battelefield. On those occasions, though, when timely maneuvers and reduced collateral damage among accompanying non-Spaced Marine units, The ZOT will assign a crew of non-impaired drivers, with self-contained breathing apparatus, biologies that don't require breathing, or robotic constitutions.
Like its design suggests, the ‘Ridgemont’ is well-suited for smashing through physical barriers with the obliviousness of a rhino on speed and painkiller cocktails. Few fortifications can stand up to the wallowing charge of the Ridgemont, and fewer still have the caliber of defender willing to stand in harm’s way and try to stop the damn things. “If it’s too tough for a Ridgemont to go through.” the saying goes,”It’s worth a Hellburner.”
If the ‘Ridgemont’ has any real shortcomings, it’s that the massive semi-trailer-sized war vehicle corners horribly, especially in built-up areas. But as it is so heavily armored, and its crew too doped to particularly care, collateral damage to buildings and other structures is hardly a concern of any consequence(at least to the Spaced Marines).
Type: ZOT-GAT02
Class: Spaced Marine Assault Ground Transport
Crew: 6 crewmen, plus a platoon of 40 Spaced marines
MDC/Armor by Location:
Main Body 2,200
Ram Prow 500
Particle Beam Cannon Turrets(4)180 each
Pulse Laser Turrets(2)120 each
Sensor Tower 450
Missile Launcher Arms(2) 200 each
MRM Launcher Deck 300
Forcefield 900
Height: 21 ft
Width: 20 ft
Length: 50 ft
Weight: 180 tons
Cargo: Can carry up to 30 tons of cargo
Powerplant: Nuclear Fusion w/ estimated lifespan of 25 years
Speed: 200 MPH, 2-5 ft off the ground
(Flying) Not possible, though the APC can safely survive falls from 10,000 ft
(Tunneling) Using a combination of its ram prow, Offensive Plasma Field, and Tangible Oblibviousness, the Ridgemont can actually tunnel through solid matter like a giant mole, hitting speeds of 40 MPH.
(Underwater) Fully capable of amphibious operations; can cruise at 40 knts, and operate at depths of down to 2 miles.
Market Cost: NOT FOR SALE! EXCLUSIVE TO THE ZOT!
Construction Features:
Standard Robot Systems, plus:

*Individual Seat Cupholders

*Communications---Can also get ESPN and tap into satellite radio and television, courtesy of the auto-signal descramblers.

*Long Range Sensors---The sensors of the Ridgemont are equal to a scout starfighter's in terms of range and variety...this is not so much because of the skill of the Spaced Marines in using them, as much as the fact that they like the various pretty colors of the different sensor media. Actually, non-Spaced Marine operators of the APC like this capability just fine...

*Electronic Cloaking----Special ECM jammers turn enemy sensor systems, including radar and infrared, within a 5 mile radius into so much expensive static stereos. Sensors are -25% to make any sense at all, and sensor-guided weapons are -10 to strike the Ridgemont. Essentially shares the confusion within, with the electronics without.

*Drone Rack---The Sensor Tower mounts a special rack for deploying repulsor-lift sensor drones---Each drone is roughly the size of a basketball, has 50 MDC, a complete set of sensors, and can operate up to 60 miles from the APC. Carries 10 drones

*'Garja' AC---This special system uses special chemical/herbal additives and hemp filters, laced with incense heaters, to render the internal atmosphere of the ‘Ridgemont’ APC that special hazy crazy and utterly mellow composition that keeps Spaced Marines at their blissed out finest.
Any unwary visitor, or prisoner, to the inside of the APC who doesn’t bring a self-contained breathing apparatus will find themselves quickly overwhelmed by the narcotic smoke, growing rapidly disoriented and semi-conscious with each breath. Even simple filter masks will become quickly clogged after about 2d4 minutes and become ineffective. Most oxygen-breathing beings will become -10 to all hand to hand bonuses, ne reduced to 1 APM, -25% to all skills, and feel immensely calm and ....happy!...while under the influence...Effects will last 4d6 minutes after leaving the APC as their minds and bodies reel. Needless to say, wise ZOT commanders find that using Ridgemonts as prison transports is REALLY handy.
In a riot situation, the same atmosphere can be vented in great billowing clouds to affect unprotected personnel in a 50 ft radius of the APC. The effects will last about 2d6 minutes due to the more rapid dispersal of the narcotic vapor.

*AutoMed Booth----An automated medic with two ICU ‘coffins’ and monitored berths for up to four additional low-priority patients.

*Fold-Out Jacuzzi---A retractable physical therapy hot tub with whirlpool..holds up to two people...lavender-scented water optional.

*Psychedelic Carpeting---Designed to continually test the acute targeting vision of the Spaced Marines under the most distracting environmental conditions, the embossed and die-tyed patterns on the floor deep-ply(dirt-resistant) carpet and padded walls grooves the Spaced Marines out, but will drive anyone else nuts and result in serious sensory distortion for anyone not totally blind.....-6 to move about the interior of the APC without running into the walls or stumbling over something.

*Tangible Obliviousness Field---Like the Galactivore Destroyer, when enough Spaced Marines are congregated in one space and stoned out of their wits, they tend to affect space/time around them, such that their ride no longer adheres to the laws of physics. In this case, a fully manned ‘Ridgemont’ with its complete complement of 40 Spaced Marines can actually ignore ALL material attacks and physical barriers.

Weapons Systems:
1) Heavy Pulse Particle Beam Cannon Turrets(4)
MegaDamage: 6D6x10 MD each
Range: 5 miles
Rate of Fire: ECHH
Payload: Unlimited but restricted to 50 blasts then it needs 30 minutes to recharge its enormous capacitor.

2) Light Pulse Laser Turrets(2, one each side)---Rapid-fire antipersonnel weapons
Range: 4,000 ft
Damage: 4d6 MD single shot, 1d6x10+10 per triple pulse burst
Rate of Fire: ECHH
Payload: Effectively Unlimited

3) Medium Range Missile Launchers(10)---Mounted in the back dorsal quarter of the APC, behind the sensor tower, and looking suspisciously like the missile tubes on a nuclear missile sub, these medium range vertical-launch cells are used for long range bombardment and ABM interception.
Range: Varies by Missile Type
Damage:Varies by Missile Type
Rate of Fire: Volleys of 1-10
Payload: 80 missiles

4)Short Range Missile Launchers(2)---Mounted on either side of the sensor tower, and looking like the fins on a submarine, are two SRM launchers, intended for close-in anti-aircraft and self-defense fire. While the launchers can accept just about any SRM, the favored munition is the ZSAM-32 ‘Sniffy’, a high-tech adaptation of the PS/FC ‘Black Talon’ ‘brilliant’ SAM, but with extended range, a more powerful warhead, and multi-spectral homing sensors.
Range:Varies by Missile Type
Damage:Varies by Missile Type
Rate of Fire:Volleys of 1-12
Payload: 12 SRMs per launcher, 24 total

5) Offensive Plasma Field---What look like dive tank intakes or torpedo tube hatches on the front end of the APC are really close-range plasma cannons that can be used to deliver a lethal, if short range, plasma barrage, or else can be used to bleed plasma into the forward battkescreen, configured for the purpose, to create a flaming aura around the forward 1/3 of the APC.
Range:(Direct Fire Mode) 500 ft
(Plasma Field Mode) Plasma Field extends 7 ft
Damage:(Direct Fire Mode) 2d4x10 MD per blast
(Plasma Field Mode) Adds 1d6x10 MD to a ramming attack, or does 5d6 MD to anything coming into contact with the flaming shield. Rail gins, shells, and projectile fire is essentially nullified against the plasma shield, and plasma weapons fire does NO damage(the same field that controls the OUTgoing plasma deflects INcoming plasma).
Rate of Fire:(Direct Fire Mode) Six times per melee
(Plasma Field Mode) Takes up ALL attacks that melee
Payload: Effectively Unlimited

6) Ram Prow---Protruding from the lower front end of the APC is a long cylindrical armored ‘beak’ for use in punching through walls, or staving in the sides of other vehicles.
Damage: 2d6x10 MD on a ram, + 2d6 MD for every 5 MPH of speed over 100 MPH

(Optional)---In a pinch, either side hatch and the top sensor tower hatch ‘crow’s nest’ can be fitted with a manned weapons station and gunner.

Variants:
Rumors abound of variants of the Ridgemeont, including models with dedicated powerplants for the PPCs(reducing crew capacity to accommodate them), a 'Rolls Royce' command model(with gaming table, pizza oven, and X2XBoXX system for the commander), and a version without the atmosphere smogger for normal(well, as normal for ZOT as it gets) troops.

[Aramanthus]

Looks very nice Taalismn!

[Roscoe Del'Tane]

Okay, these guys aren't exactly the repair-men asked for previously, but I figure they are close enough to suit. Oh, and there was more to the write up, but it was kind of not appropriate for here, drop me an e-mail if you want the rest of it.

“We da REAL Cyber-Rats pal, we come from Mayower-Six! We call ourselves the Engarliyons, and we are the best there is at hacking and information retrieval. You better remember that, now lead on.”

Engarliyons

These guys, as stated above, are the living embodiment of Cyber-Rats, and are at least among the best at hacking and industrial espionage (within the top three easily). They are nimble as all Place-of-Eternal-Suffering, great at squeezing into small spaces, have a light tread, and several natural abilities that give them numerous advantages over the competition. They are relative newcomers to the galactic scene, (they only appeared in the ‘civilized’ areas less than 500 years ago) but have already carved out a big niche for themselves, and have an equally big reputation for themselves and their skills.

They evolved on a planet that had an accident with their trio of fairly large sized moons. The long and short of it is that they collided, and pretty much ground each other to dust while in close orbit over Mayower-Six. The resulting rain of dust, debris, and heavenly particulates crated a thick, oppressive shroud that covered the planet, blocking out the majority of light generated by the sun. Enough was transmitted to the planet (and the atmosphere) that an ice-age was forestalled, but the average temperature did drop significantly (went from high 90’s and low 100’s average to low 60’s and high 50’s average summer temp), which killed off most of the native life forms, leaving only the strongest (and luckiest) to procreate and attempt to adapt.

The Engarliyons adapted much quicker, due to the fact that they had been mostly nocturnal before the Heavenly Death (they used to worship the moons, only the largest survived, at less than half what it had been before) and had lived exclusively in underground tunnels and cave-systems. They quickly hunted down most of the dead fur-bearing critter and skinned them for clothing. Things progressed quickly after that. Within a thousand years, they had ‘conquered’ their entire planet, though most of that conquest had been to simply move into areas that all other critters had abandoned.

Their technology levels began to grow by leaps and bounds, soon enabling them to begin to explore the stars. It took them a while to make ships that were strong enough to withstand the Shroud covering their planet, but there were eventually able to blast several ‘clear zones’ with high powered laser cannons through the obstruction. They quickly realized that they needed better light-filters on the shuttles that they sent out, as the first few came back not at all, or with crews completely blinded by the intense solar glare beyond the Shroud. After a bit of tinkering, they managed to make better filters, and equipped all members of the shuttles with goggles that would automatically darken when in painful amounts of light.

The Engarliyons landed on a few planets in their solar system for better materials (the metals on Mayower-Six were rather poor, and in scarce supply. Unfortunately, they landed right during an eclipse, and the entire landing party was sucked into a Random Rift. They were lucky enough to get deposited on Phase World, and then to make contact with the local representative from the CCW. The fellow was sympathetic to their plight, and helped them get set up (for the medium to long future, had no idea where their home was), before he had to focus on other work. They quickly were able to obtain gainful employment after a few ‘explorations’ into Thraxus’s computer records. He liked their spunk and made them the heads of his Computer Operations Department, with the promise to give them adequate resources to find their way home. Part of the deal was ships to get there in once it was found, ships with Phase Transceivers so they could come back. After only a few decades, they were successful in finding Mayower-Six from the star charts collected from their ships computer.

Their return to Center was greeted with much pomp and ceremony from Thraxus, who had gained an incredible liking for the Engarliyons, and he said that though he liked them a lot, it was time for them to grow into their own beings, and not be dependant on them. That’s not to say that he doesn’t care about them, far from it, he simply sees it as better that they no longer have much contact with him, for their own protection as much as anything. They have since burst upon the rest of the galaxy, working for just about everybody and loving it. They have come to crave the excitement and uncertainty that stems from certain jobs, where success and failure are so balanced, that a hair on one side or other could send them fleeing or see them successful.

In combat they use a variety of weaponry, depending on the situation. Close combat usually means knives and hatchets, due to the millennia they spent in the tunnels (swords and large axes usually get broken and bent in close tunnel fighting) and a desire to have weaponry that’s easily concealed. More modern weaponry usually includes things like Naruni Slim-Line, and other weaponry that’s easy to conceal (or not assumed to be Mega Damage). That’s not to say they won’t use heavy weaponry or explosives, they just prefer smaller, more focused attacks to heavy hitting, obvious attacks.

Stats:
Alignment: Mostly Selfish, with a smattering of goodie goodies, and a few evil Bad boys thrown in.
Lifespan: 130-180 years.
Size: Four and half to Five feet tall. Anything over Five is considered huge. They’re usually never over 130 pounds.
Gender: Heterosexual. Females can have up to three litters a year, consisting of 1d4+6 (5-10) at a time.
Augmentation: Not Possible, not even cybernetics, their bodies reject any attempts to alter their bodies (though they are experimenting with gene-therapy and alteration).
Magic/Psychic Abilities: as O.C.C. only.

P.S.: 3d4
P.P.: 20+2d4
P.E.: 3d6
P.B.: 3d6
I.Q.: 3d8 (pretty smart rats)
M.E.: 3d6
M.A.: 3d6+5
SPD: 3d6+15
H.P.: P.E.+1d6
S.D.C.: 30+3d6
M.D.C.: Only when transformed into rat-form(half base H.P. and S.D.C., plus the bonus S.D.C. from the change).
I.S.P: 1d4 (Or as O.C.C.)
P.P.E.: 1d4 (Or as O.C.C.)

Natural Abilities: Nightvision equal to triple the normal range, Infrared to ninety feet, able to hear ultrasonic sounds (like dogs), Leaping: Rodent.

R.C.C. Skills: Computer Operation Computer Programming and Computer Hacking all at +10%.

Super Abilities: Mechano-Link, Lycanthropy: Were-Rat (with uncontrollable shifting until 6th level), one minor travel power (Flight, hover, etc.) and
Machine Mind
{minor} by Roscoe Del’Tane
“What’s on my mind? The Declaration of Independence, All of Shakespeare’s works, and the entire first season of Babylon 5…”
The character has a mind that is specifically geared for storing data, so much so that it’s even better than some computers! Every level they can store the equivalent of half their combined I.Q. and M.E. in gigabytes. They can store any type of information, video, music, text, etc. It takes about an hour to store each gig, during which time they lose half of all their combat attacks and bonuses, and suffer a -15% penalty to skills (as it takes a fair amount of concentration, but they can stop anytime they want).
The character can, at anytime recite verbatim anything they have memorized, exactly as they heard it (in their voice, unless they have the imitation skill). Similarly, they can mentally access any technical info they memorized, like blueprints, schematics, etc.
The character has also sprouted an organic data port somewhere on their body, which will allow them to download information directly onto a computer. This process only works one way, no using it to upload info into their brain.

Evolutionary Problems: Their eyes are incredibly sensitive to light, anything above a candle’s brightness is blinding (and even that’s painful), so they must wear protective eye-coverings of some kind (blindfold, welding goggles, etc). With their high metabolism, as well as due to the frequent ‘activities’ they engage in, they must eat twice as much as a normal person to feel satiated. They also all have a pair of insanities, one is Technophilia (in other words, they love their technology a little too much; and the higher the tech, the better in their eyes), and the other is a psychosomatic fear of bright lights (must make a save vs. Insanity at -2 to go out in what they would consider ‘bright’ without eye-wear, and even then avoid it like the plague if they can), and if they don’t have full clothing covering, they think they take 1d4 H.P. damage (all in their head, but they feel the pain, and they loose one APM, and are at -1 to all combat rolls for one minute after first exposure).

Most of their Culture revolves around acquiring new gadgets and gizmos. They have no fear of being caught, they accept that as part of the job, and are willing to take whatever punishments are handed out. They are broken down into clans (groups of 4d6 families, rarely ever over 500 individuals) that wander from one system to the next, ‘acquiring’ whatever programs and information strike their eye, and generally living life to the fullest whenever possible. Loyalties lie first with the first with the Engarliyons as a whole, then to their clan, then to the family, then to themselves, and only after all that, are they loyal to others (so your best friend, if a Engerliyon, could be ordered to kill you and they would do so without a single hesitation).

The Clans are broken down into two different basic types, the ‘farmers’, and the ‘warriors’. The farmers are those who are more inclined to settle down in one spot for several years to a couple decades. They are also those who launder credits, tech, and items for the warriors, as well as the legitimate work (tech support, grease monkey’s, that sort of thing) for whatever community they live in. Some times for more than their community, they occasionally work for planetary governments (handling things like air/space-traffic controllers, database protection, such stuff).

The warriors are those who take the chances and steal the data and tech items. They specialize in getting into places that aren’t made to be gotten into, and getting things they aren’t supposed to get their hands on. They tend to be very daring (often it looks like the have more b@lls than brains) in combat, taking risks that a sane person wouldn’t contemplate, and most often succeeding, to most peoples consternation. They tend to get along great with Juicers and Crazies, they might night be as strong (while in human form) or as fast, but they have the right mentality, and make up for it with clever minds, and crazy tactics.

Technology Level: Slightly above that of most of the Three Galaxies, mainly due to their ability to copy just about every type of tech there is.

They have some interesting goodies that they have developed for their exclusive use. One of which is, Engarliyon only controls for their vehicles, you have to have Mechano-Link (or similar power) to pilot these vehicles. Another is viral transmitters, mechanical devices that fire computer viruses at the enemies computers (great for disabling those who could squash them without a thought), can be mounted on vehicles or shoulder mounted weapons.

One that all warriors and some spies frequently use bodysuits covered in micro-circuitry and sensors. As you can imagine, this comes in very useful for taking passive scans of their surroundings, and storing extra data that won’t fit in their head while in hostile territory. The data storage is equal to roughly 60 gigabytes worth of data, spread out among the limbs (10 on each arms and leg, 20 on the main body), or course if that limb is destroyed, that data is lost. Sensors limited to x-ray, infrared, both at 1,500 feet, and motion sensors within 30 feet (gives a +3 bonus to initiative). The sensors readings are only rough approximations to serve as warnings, unless they use their Mechano-Link to see through the suit. The batteries last for up to three days of constant use before needing a 12 hour recharge off of a nuclear power source (or something of comparable strength).

They have also knocked off Naruni Enterprises Force Field Belts, remade into armbands and normal belts. Each only provides 20 M.D.C., but works as an extra layer of invisible armor (can only wear three at a time, one on each arm and one around the waist), and can run off the power source from the bodysuit.

Military Strength: At once very strong, and incredibly weak. They are focused mainly into small groups of a few dozen up to a few hundred, and rely mostly on speed and precision weaponry, but are able to hold their own against most enemies. Usually they are too spread out to be much help against large numbers of foe; but on a few occasions, they have banded together in groups numbering thousands, in which they have decimated entire enemy fleets. They prefer to do most of their battles in the digital arena (where they reign as kings and queens), or through computer viruses (which they are proficient in using to disable their opponents computers and hardware), though they usually have no problems using whatever force is needed.

Allies: Anybody who can pay for their services, and Thraxus.

Enemies: Anybody who’s been on the wrong end of one of their espionage stings, or one of their computer raids. The Engarliyons also find it quite amusing to charge ridiculous amounts of worthless crap to the accounts of those who stiff them on bills for their services.

[taalismn]

Close enough...they're a people who have had to survive through technological innovation and adaptation, plus they have plenty of checks to balance them....

Good job!

[Aramanthus]

Very cool! I like that new RCC, Roscoe! Good job!

[Aramanthus]

This is very important and it needs to stay active!

[taalismn]

We're trying, we're trying....though we'd appreciate as many new black gang stokers to keep the forge furnaces going!

[Aramanthus]

I know you guys are working hard and fast. I should try to create a new race.