Given our recent Psychic Nosebleed, that might not be the best idea. Besides, we'd need to switch weapons.
Be careful what you wish for, 'cause you might just get it all...Mmm... Cookie...(1; critical failure): Now is not the time, stomach. The beast doesn't care much when you will your desperate craving for Miss Buttersworth's at it through your Lense either.
Kill his entire family with magicked plasma shots (5; critical success): The fat fuck's between you and the hab level. You switch the pulse rifle to full auto; your fury at being denied your cookies making each shot blaze like a dying sun.
The creature's ravaged form slumps to the ground, smouldering.
Victory!
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am!The monstrosity has an Accessory on him; and-God above!-a bag of cookies. The good kind, like mom used to make; not one of those preservative laden discs of BS you get from the vending machines. You devour the treats; pushing the thought that someone must have made these for whomever the thing used to be into the same grave you buried the ethical questions about the zombies in.
You head up to the hab level, stopping at the first stack of crates you found-and that other dead battery you thought you saved. You reload the pulse rifle and blaster; and top up your reserves to 10.
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am!You take the elevator down to the Utility level, and follow the Orange Line to the engine room. You use elevator time as dance time to celebrate your cookies and monster slaying.
Upon entering, the captain's voice crackles in your ear:
"Here, you will need to purge the reactor of gaseous waste. That should kill anything in here with you. Your fatigues are rated for Cosmic Radiation exposure, but you'll need to get the Class D hazmat gear from the supply room."
"Yes sir. Um..."
"Don't worry, private. We'll have the Science Officer walk you through the procedure once you get there."
Fair enough, you suppose.
edited 9th Jul '15 11:24:35 AM by dvorak
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am!It occurs to you to dose a med hypo; which you do. Your abused chest relaxes.
You slip into cover, stow the one handers, and...
Chik-ckik; Boom! (5; critical success) ... Blast his infected chest into canned spam.
Victory!
His pockets contain a data chip.
Now everyone pat me on the back and tell me how clever I am!You gain the supply room, and analyze the Accessory:
- Power Doubler: the second upgrade for the blaster; the device brings the total number of shots up to 10. It also includes a hand guard; which rectifies the blazer's tendency to injure the user when overheated.
And the chip:
- Catlike Tread: A cybernetic module that allows a greater freedom of movement. (+1 to non-critical, non overshot dodge rolls)

Shoot him! Shoot till he's dead! Shoot till his momma's dead!