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A male ysoki with a large earring in one ear stands with you wherever we are. He has Second Skin armor on but no visible weapons. He has a few tools, but looks like he travels pretty light in general.
He speaks in a smooth and mellow voice. "Always a pleasure to meet new acquaintances." He gives a small bow. "My name is Rigs, or that's my nickname at least. I got that name from my colleagues when I used to do lots of electrician's work. I like to build and modify things in my not so spare time."
With that, Rigs concentrates a little bit, touching a certain part of his head. "And this is Zapper. Aptly named, if you were wondering."
A drone flies off Rigs's backpack and flies into the air. It hovers around and has an azimuth laser pistol attached.
*Bzzz Whirr Whirr*
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An android with many intricate tattoos nods back first to the Ysoki and then to the drone in near equal measures. He wears second skin armor and has a laser rifle slung behind his back. His body appears to be that of an old human male and when he speaks his voice matches. "You can call me Gerald. I look forward to working with you. I'll be providing a bit of experience in the twins of magic and science. And of course some fire support should it be needed." A slight pause and then. "It does always seem to be needed doesn't it."
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Standing out like a gray elephant in the room, Gil is a spindly, gray humanoid standing about thirteen and a half feet tall with a bald head and eyes just a bit to big for his head. He wears a faded red jacket, grey pants that appear to have seen their fair share of action, and a pair of small arms on his left hip (appearing to be an antique slug thrower with a revolving cylinder and an arc pistol modified to have a similar look.
When he notices people introducing themselves, he kneels down onto the deck of the station to hear his companions better. He nods and offers his hand as it gets around to him, Gil Hthaa Ynn, of the creche worlds in the Diaspora, planetary exploration and first contact specialist. Well.. he rubs the back of his neck as if embarrassed at the last part, I'm not certified yet on that last part, but I'm finishing up my last term on Castrovel next month. Pleased to meet you all!
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Still kneeling, the man shrugs and says, I don't know. Probably not yet, I don't think they'd send some nearly-graduates to be the first face a new species sees, he grins, showing a his set of pearly white teeth, but it'd be exciting, wouldn't it? My readers would simply love it! I could see it now: Close Encounters of the... He goes off rambling for a bit, embelishing on what may have happened in this hypothetical scenario had he been called to broker peace with a new alien speices. They had tentacles, of course.
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A Vesk walks into the room, slow and lumbering, with an enormous laser strapped to his back.
He looks around the room with squinted eyes, taking everything in. His eyes grow large as he sees the Sarcesian.
"Whoa! You're a big fella! I don't get to say that very often. I apologise, I'm straight off the shuttle from Vesk-8, and we didn't get many outsiders there. My manners aren't all they should be. So I'm told. My name's Hudathan, but you can call me Hude."
Hudathan bows deeply, then sits in the corner with his back to the walls. Always keeping one eye on the exits he breaks into an amicable smile, humming a traditional Vesk battle tune under his breath.
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An android dressed in formal suit also enters in the room. [b]Nice too meet all of you[/] he says in a voice a little too formal. [b]My name is AB-X1 and I’m a cybersecurity auditor.
If that means something for our work is something I don’t know, as I’ve been told Starfinder Society employs people with different abilities what may, or may not be related with the work to do[b]
Did I hear him well? He doesn’t consider us persons? That’s strange AB-X1 thinks amazed that an android doesn’t consider himself a person when every sentient body he met in Aballon consider itself a person, no matter if it bornt or was constructed.
The large vesk who initially brought the offer of joining the Starfinders to you enters the room. He seems as gruff as before, and you're confident this is just his natural state of being. He manages to look down on everyone, even Gil, and lets out a sigh. "Alright, follow me, we're going to the Starfinder society's base of operations on Absalom station where you're going to meet Guidance. Try and be on your best behavior and don't embarrass me."
It's not a long trek, only a few minutes from where you all met, before you reach the infamous Lorespire Complex - home of the Starfinder Society.
As the doors to the Lorespire Complex slide open, a green holographic image of a middle-aged human woman shimmers into view at the center of the room. “Greetings,” it says. “I am Guidance. Please use the cheek swabs in the open receptacle to provide a genetic sample for Starfinder Society identification purposes. If desired, you may place your hand on the glowing panel to receive a subdermal implant further marking you as a member of the Society.”
After waiting for each of the group to provide their identification and those who wish to have a subdermal implant (which stings on application, but takes only seconds) to receive it the hologram will continue.
“It is our pleasure to officially welcome you into the Starfinder Society. Today is the commencement of your new role as a Starfinder field agent. It is our tradition, at the end of the graduation ceremony, for new graduates to present themselves to the heads of our most prominent factions and complete a task at those leaders’ behest. This allows the leaders of these groups to become familiar with all new Starfinder agents, and it provides a constant supply of agents for handling situations in our holdings on Absalom Station. While these tasks were formerly symbolic, the heavy loss of Starfinder agents in the Scoured Stars necessitates that these missions become something more. Please treat any tasks given with the gravity you would grant any other Starfinder assignment.” At the same moment a portal on the computer collecting information from everyone slides open and a small datapad is ejected onto the table in front of it. A quick skim of information reveals brief descriptions of four of the five Starfinder factions.
*Bzz Whrr Whrr?*
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"Yes, yes, Zapper. You can be an honorary member too."
I'd rather not have an identifying symbol so that every person with a scanner around can identify me as a Starfinder.
"Thank goodness I brushed my cheeks today! Otherwise there might have been gunk on these swabs." Rigs laughs at his own Ysoki humor. He rubs carefully as to not to pull the trigger on his pistol hidden in his cheek pouch. He hands the swab back over, then politely declines the implant with a small wave of disapproval.
"I already have a faction in mind... however, it would be interesting to converse from the horse's mouth for each faction."
Rigs touches his head for a second, looking intently at the datapad and copies the information to his custom rig implant.
"I'm supposing we can find the respectable leaders in their respective locations. Where would we find the Exo-Guardians leader?"
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Hudathan steps forward. To many racists around, fearing the Vesk for the old ways. This should help.
"I'd like an implant, please."
After receiving the implant, Hudathan steps behind Rigs, only a little wary of the flying drone. "I too, would like to meet the Exo-Guardian leader to join up in the fight."
Realizing this preference may be considered rude, Hudathan continues, bowing deeply to the hologram. "Of course, I would love to meet all of the leaders. But Exo-Guardian would be my preference if there is not enough time."
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Gerald provides the requested swab, then brings up the holodisplay on his computer and provides his design specifications before recording the information provided on the factions into it. "I'll take an implant as well, if it's a problem I can always cut it out. And we might have to prove our affiliation some time. I'd like to visit the Dataphile Administrator myself, but I'm up for a trip to the Exo-Gardians first since people seem interested."
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Gil struggles to pinch a swab momentarily before finally managing to retrieve one and gingerly swab his cheek. He sighs with satisfaction as he places it in the receptacle and then puts his hand on the panel without a second thought. Yeah, I'm fine with wherever the group wants to go. Though Fitch's mission statement speaks to me, so I'd be greatful if we could visit them at some point. If there's time, that is. He then bows deeply to the hologram of Guidance and states, Thank you very much for this opportunity. I hope that this cooperation will be long and fruitful for the both of us.
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I'll expet the Starfinder leaders will decide who of them will receive us and not let new members decide about it. thinks AB-X1 as he waits for his turn to have the implant. Put it on me. he asks, not seeing any necesity in explain why he decided to do so.
I think we should try to met as many of them as possible. It will help us to decide better, even to those of you who had just decided. We can start with Zigvigix if that's your preference.
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Oh, I agree, Gil replies to the android, maintaining his full hight in the presence of Guidance, meeting more of the heads of state, as it were, is definitely better than meeting only two. If only so I know how to characterize them,[b] he adds with a chuckle at his own joke, [b]but in all seriousness, more connections made is always better.
The hologram quietly waits as the new recruits provide their identification and several of them choose to accept their implants. During there time there are a series buzzing noises emanating from the hologram as it converses with the drone about its status as a member of the Society.
When the group has voiced their opinions it will finally speak up again, smiling softly. "Do not worry, you shall have the chance to meet all the faction leaders in turn. That is part of your graduation. Frankly the society could use help with these tasks, and it's customary for you to meet your superiors to help find the best home for you in this little family." Another glance at the group and then the image shimmers into the form of a host shirren with heavy augmentations. Despite the change in appearance the voice hasn't altered. "This is Zigvigix, the current leader of the Exo-guardians. They do not currently have an official home base on the station, but they alerted me that you would be able to find them at the large art park in the Downlow today. Look for this shirren there first, since their group seems to be the one drawing the most interest."
The hologram flickers back to its appearance as a human woman. "Once you have assisted them, they will report back to the Lorespire on your results, you need not concern yourself with that. Simply seek out the next of the leaders you wish to meet. Their locations should be included in your dossier. Do you have further questions?" The Guidance seems eminently patient, an experienced teacher ready to offer what wisdom it deems appropriate.
Starfinders. They respect both the dogged veteran field agents who were not lost in the Scoured Stars disaster and the new recruits, whose presence brings renewed hope. Stating one’s association with the Starfinder Society is likely to garner support from the locals of Absalom Station.
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Hudathan gets visibly excited at the sight of the Exo-Guardian leader. A Shirren in charge of my desired faction. This is a good sign.
"Guidance, do you have a map of the station we can download? I have just arrived from my homeworld."
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Running at a light trot, a slender tall android with coppery bronze blue skin and matching hair runs up the the group. His skin is tracked with mildly glowing neon blue circuitry. He quielty steps in line as the group lines up for tagging.
"Dear, my apologies fellows. I had a student that would not allow me to break our discourse on the nature of artificial intelligence. My name is Nm-0, but those who know me call me Nemzo, well professor Nemzo to be fair. I look forward to uncovering the mysteries of the universe with you all!"
He grins in that sheepish android inhuman way and complies with Guidance's instructions. Nemzo casually accepts the Starfinder hand implant.
Nemzo listens patiently as Guidance continues to give mission information. He smiles and nods when Guidance asks for questions. "Ah yes, but one question Guidance, when do we get started?"
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No questions from me answers AB-X1 before talking with his teammates. did you know that Absolon Statino is surrounded by an "Armada", not exactly a militar one despite the name, but instead starships that have taken advantage of the station’s Starstone core. Also its they're a risk bringing back undetected alien life, simply because the policing Stewards lack the numbers to search every orbiting ship.
Something that the leader of the Exo-guardians may be interested in. Or not. it adds.
At Hudathan's question the hologram waves a transparent hand towards one of the nearby terminals. "Data in regards to the various locations on this station can be found on any public terminal, including the ones located in the Lorespire. You are free to consult them as necessary, or download a map to one of your own devices." With that the image of the woman dips herself in a small bow, then smiles. "You start now. We wish you luck and hope to hear of your successes."
It will then shimmer out of existence to leave you to your own devices unless you call out to Guidance for additional questions.
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The party has chosen to seek out the Exo-guardians first, which requires a short trip to a lower portion of the station. The journey is uneventful for anyone familiar with the city in the stars, but you encounter gatherings of dozens of species, including those you've never seen before, and have to push through the general press of life on Absalom station to eventually reach where you were told you'd meet Zigvigix in the Downlow.
Garbage litters the ground around the district’s largest art park—a cement lot filled with undulating metal sculptures and covered in graffiti of grotesquely adorable creatures. The sounds of music and chatter drift over from the nearby clubs, chronically interrupted by the roar of the local gangsters’ engines. A heavily augmented host shirren is sitting on one of the park benches, eating a simple meal of cold grub-noodles and rice candy. Their antennae perk up at the tremor of approaching footsteps. “Welcome, new Starfinders! And congratulations!” the shirren’s voice telepathically projects. “My speech-name is Zigvigix, but feel free to call me Ziggy, if that would be easier for you. Have some rice candy to celebrate your graduation! Today is your big day!”
“When you are ready, I have two assignments I could use assistance with. The first is to help me secure a new headquarters on Absalom Station. I’ve been in talks with our station’s protectors, the Stewards, and they were kind enough to give us ownership of a warehouse here in Downlow for that purpose! The current owners no longer want it because a vicious alien took it over and kills anyone who goes inside. Once the alien is gone and the warehouse cargo has been returned to its owners, we can start installing desks and computers, so please go in and incinerate the creature!”
“My second assignment...” Zigvigix twitches their tooth barbs for a moment and then holds out a credstick. “Please buy the brand-new Strawberry Machine Cake album, Star Sugar Heartlove!!!, which is out today, and give it to Historia-7 when you see her. She is the head of the Dataphiles, so you should meet her today! I wish to do it myself, but I... I have trouble standing for long periods of time. Thank you very much!”
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Hudathan moves forward and bows. "Zigvigix, do you have any more information about this alien? Were there any witnesses to the last attack?"
Buy an album? I'm just not sure that is on the same level of difficulty as killing an alien menace...
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Gerald lets out a small sigh at the second "task. Too much to hope that that's a joke, or that we're free to use the same skill set to deal with the crowds as the warehouse. taking a breath he turns back to the Shirren. "Yes, Zigvigix, do we have any description of the creature? And do we need to take particular care of the cargo, or just keep the destruction to a reasonable minimum?"
Zigvigix continues to speak to you through his telepathic connection. "Yes we do! In fact we have a remarkable amount thanks to being in the heart of civilization. It appears to be a feather stalker, but don't let the name fool you. They're large and unpleasant." It sets aside the small assortment of food it has been snacking on as it talks directly into your mind and pulls out a small holoprojector which it holds out in the middle of the group.
A 3D image of a gentleman dressed in a fine suit with the face of a sleezeball standing in a warehouse. He is in front of a cage with a pair of obvious henchmen who are opening the cage's door. The moment they pull it wide the well-dressed man smirks, but it only lasts a moment until turning to an expression of sheer horror. A large, black and white creature that appears to be made up of long, feather appendages and little else lunges out of the opening and wraps a number of limbs around the suited man.
The goons react by drawing weapons and firing, but the creature jumps straight up out of the camera's angle with gunshots trailing it. A moment later a rush of blood and an arm drop into view and the two surviving men flee out of sight. "That would be a feather stalker, as you can see it's not in a particularly good mood and rather territorial. Some two-bit crime lord smuggled it in here to try and make it a pet, and it didn't appreciate not having a say in the matter!"
Zigvigix turns its attention to Gerald. "Please try to avoid using explosives where they may damage the contents, thank you. We have promised to return them and will be responsible for paying for any major damage. A few laser burns or bullet holes shouldn't be a problem."
Gil's question earns a significant expression of shock from shirren, which makes a small keening sound of shock. "Strawberry Machine Cake is the greatest musical influence to come out of Absalom Station since the gap. Their sugar pop music can brighten anyone's day, thank you! I hope it will do so for Historia-7. They always make me feel better, particular Honey Candy Floss and Rainbow Popsicle Ponies. Choosing between which to listen to is bliss!" The Shirren practically shivers just thinking about it. "I just wish I could hear their new music myself, but it's difficult for me to stand in long lines with all these augmentations."
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Rigs looks at Zapper, raising an eyebrow and sighing. Seems like this task is more up your alley than mine.
Rigs decides to be direct. The bug man seems friendly enough. In a smooth, somewhat smart-assed voice, he asks, "Did you not want a copy of the band's recording as well?" Rigs lets out a smirk anticipating a response.
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Gerald enjoys seeing the video. Always amusing to watch someone reap the rewards of stupidity.
He then takes a step back from the conversation and brings up the holo display on his wrist computer "Hal, connect to the station's network and pull information on Feather Stalkers." Gerald will take the next two minutes to take 20 using Absolon Station's infosphere, his computer and its AI.
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Hudathan seems concerned. "I don't know what is worse. Fighting a killer abomination, or being surrounded by Strawberry fans."
Oblivious to any subtle cues, Hudathan takes a step back, eyeing the park for trouble. Perhaps I should get a copy for my sister. She always did love those dopey bands.
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Zigvigex chitters quietly to Rigs inquiry. "No, no. I mean they're a very good band, fantastic really. But it's really not that important to me, for me. I don't need anything for myself, I just want to do something to help a compatriot. I'd prefer not to spend the credits on it for myself." It's worth noting that it's highly unusual for a Shirren to not want to purchase personal wants. Zigvigex doesn't remain off balance for long and straightens up, returning to its meal and becoming more confident in its posture. "I'm sure Historia-7 will appreciate it, thank you!"
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I'm sure Hisroria will, Gil assures the shirren, stopping short of patting them on the shoulder. We'll also take care of your creature problem for you. I've seen my fair share of odd beasts, this one should be no trouble, he states with the utmost confidence in his abilities and the abilities of his fellow Starfinders. Shall we go while the night is still young?
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Hudathan pulls the heavy laser off his shoulder and checks the battery level. Full. Just the way I like it.
"Good to go, boss. Let's cook this chicken."
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Gedald passes on his information to the others, being sure to properly reference his sources. "I'm ready to go when you lot are." Glancing over at Hudathan and his weapon. "Is that the Azimuth Artillery line? They're a fairly decent weapon." Tapping his own rifle he continues. "Can you hit what you aim it at? I can give it a bit more juice if so. Just give me a second with it right before you fire it at the beast."
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Surprised, the Vesk turns to the old man. "You know your lasers, sir! I'm impressed. As for shooting, I'm a much better shot than I am a looker! First in my legion back on Vesk-8."
He looks at his laser lovingly. "I ain't to good at the technology stuff. I sure would appreciate your help." Hudathan hands the laser to Gerald. This is the type of interspecies cooperation we need more of. These androids are far nicer than they were rumored to be.
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Hudathan accepts the weapon and holsters it. "Just like glue, my friend." Hudathan, standing slightly within Gerald's personal space, looks to the group. "So, shall we get plucking?"
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Once done talking with the faction leader and preparing the party makes for the indicated warehouse. You find it's a quick jaunt across the littered park and down several blocks to where a station security force barrier is set up around the building. A pair of officers stop your progress for a moment until you're identified as Starfinders, then they allow you to pass inside with clipped offers of good luck and to let them know when the feather stalker has been handled.
The warehouse itself is 3 stories tall and in reasonable condition except for the front doors. They've been quite obviously forced open and the lock is damaged, alluding the need for the barrier to keep the alien trapped within. There seem to be no signs of the creature outside and you move into the main storage area. The inside has 30 foot high ceilings with a catwalk running along the walls halfway up. The building has a mixture of boxes, tall cylinders, and even a partially dismantled vehicle stored in the corner where someone appears to have been working on it.
There are lights emitting weak illumination that leaves the entire building dim to your eyes. There are small signs of something having been scurrying around in here, such as a pile of debris near the center of the room and occasional gouges in a box or support beam. But you don't see the feather stalker itself.
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Gerald raises an eyebrow at Rigs' comment and says over the com system. "The way I see it, we're not going to lose anything presuming everything is capable of ambushing us. And if that presumption is right it'll help us live long enough to be as old as I look."
Gerald looks around the warehouse
Gerald unlimbers his rifle and holding it in one hand gestures up at the catwalk with the other to Hudathan. "Maybe a better vantage point will help us find him?
If Hudathan agrees Gerald will wait for him to lead the way.
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AB-X1 picks his azimuth laser pistol and cross the door. Yes it looks very quiet, but if the creature is called stalker I will not be surprised if it try to ambush us. [/b] Seeing how vesk and Herald go to a cake walk he moves to another, whispering to his mates I'll check that path, if any of you want to follow me just be sure to not stay just at my back; I tend to move when things go less than perfect.
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Gil takes out his pistols with a flourish, lightly twirling them on this fingers before readying them properly as he looks around the warehouse at his heightened vantage. I get a sinking feeling that it may come from the pit over there, so I'd keep a wide berth. I'll try and stay out of your way, being the most obtrusive here, he informs the party while moving to one of the larger cylinders.