Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Aggressive Negotiation
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"Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, ''honey''?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . " | "Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, ''honey''?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . " | ||
| - | It's decision time. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade ''something'' for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to: | + | It's decision time again. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade ''something'' for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to: |
*[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate|Call his bluff a second time]] | *[[Disaster in Space/Amy:Rebels:Tempting Fate|Call his bluff a second time]] | ||
Current revision as of 08:50, 11 May 2015
Suddenly, one of the fighters looses a single blaster bolt at your ship, causing your shields to erupt. As the alarm sounds in your cockpit, you realize that you are still alive and it was only a warning shot. The fighter's weapons weren't primed with enough energy to damage your ship substantially, though you get the message loud and clear: A real attack from just one fighter would be enough to batter down your shields and kill you instantly. On your monitor, the smug face of the rebel officer re-appears.
"Well, now do you have a sense of our intent, honey?" He flashes you a satisfied smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm giving you ten seconds to jettison that cargo and fly away on the heading you came from. One second more, and we blow that little ship of yours out of the sky. TEN . . . . NINE . . . . "
It's decision time again. You know that if the situation were reversed, you would gladly trade something for these weapons; but it's possible that this guy has more anger than sense. You decide to:
