Historia-7 takes the Strawberry Machine Cake album from Gerald and looks at it. After a moment she gives you all a long, unreadable stare before calmy stating, "I will enter this into the archives."
With that, unless the group has further questions for Historia, you make your way to the coordinates she provided you with. The trip is relatively brief thanks to the efficient public transportation of the station and you ride a train to Drifter's End to no fanfare or surprises. At the drifts you see it appears rather rundown and spartan, with all of the construction little more than prefabricated, boxy, and sterile save for the touches put into decorating by the occupants.
When you reach the address you want the apartment that you find resembles a cement cube, with several tomato plants in plastic barrels sitting on an otherwise barren porch. The plants are being hand-pollinated by a young man who is quietly humming to himself as he works. No one else appears to be around and he hasn't noticed you yet.
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Gerald looks over at Gil. "Seems like the right time for some of that talking. Maybe he knows about the hacker, maybe he is the hacker. I'll keep an eye out for any corporate lackeys." About to turn towards the street and the way they came Gerald turns back for a moment. "I know a bit about hacking myself, though I doubt I'm alone in that here. Let me know if you need help confirming you have the right person or breaking an encryption."
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Suppose I can try, yeah, Gil says as he rolls his shoulders and tries to set himself in a non-threatening a bearing as possible.
Wandering up to the man tending the tomato plants, he raises a hand in greeting and announces himself with a, hey there! Could I talk to you real quick? at a point that he hopes is far enough away that it doesn't seem like he's sneaking up on him.
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Hudathan is on high alert as the group enters the neighborhood. Knowing his skills, he stays back, leaning against a neighboring wall as he scans the street for trouble.
As Gil approaches the hacker, Hudathan realizes that many species still fear the Vesk. He attempts to look non-threatening.
The young human man doesn't seem particularly alarmed by your presence, just slightly confused that a sarcesian is at his place. He spends a moment finishing his current pollination after asking you to wait just a moment. He stands, brushing his hands off on the sides of his pants and turns to face Gil. "Uh, I suppose so... you don't seem like you're from this part of the station. Are you lost?"
There's a bit of confusion on his face, especially once he notes all of you aren't typical Drifters. He does lean in slightly towards Gil and whispers. "Have you noticed a suspicious vesk and ysoki are standing over there eyeing you? You look like the sort that might get followed by people out to make your life hard."
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Gil chuckles at the comment about the suspicious Ysoki and vesk, Nah, not in this part of the galaxy. I know these ones.
He pauses as AB-X1 and Hudathan chime in. He grimaces slightly at the Vesk's forwardness and tries to course correct, What my friend here means is that if you're the person we think you are, you certainly are in danger and we're willing to help. Eager to, actually, because if you're who we think you are you have some pretty amazing talents that we could use, he continues, trying to butter the man up a bit so he'll be willing to listen.
He pulls up the hologram from his new implant, showing him to be a member of the Starfinder Society, As you can see, we're an organization that's trying to recruit new, talented minds into our fold, and if what we've heard about the person we're looking for is true, we think that person and the information they recently acquired would fit the bill quite nicely. So what do you say?
The man seems perplexed, which quickly drifts into confusion and then a moderate level of alarm and fear as Gil, AB, and Hudathan come at him. Between being told he's in grave danger and apparently talented enough to draw the attention of the anyone at all, let alone a well known organization at the hub of the station. He holds up his hands cautiously and takes a careful step back. "Hey, I mean I appreciate the offer... but I don't know what you expect me to say. I think you're in the wrong place, all I know how to do is grow tomatoes. You can't be looking for that, are you sure you're all okay?"
He looks around for help, like from station security to deal with the strange and heavily armed people at his front door. "Were you at the bars or something, or did Mikhael put you up to some weird joke? Do you want my money? I don't have much!"
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Nemzo looks around and approaches the group as they discuss things with the tomato grower. "We do not want your credits. If we are in error, please accept our apology, but my friends are correct when they say you are in danger. It seems someone has set you up and has planted some sensitive data in your systems. Allow me to retrieve them, and keep you from further trouble." Nemzo looks at the man as a surge of blue energy pulses through his circuitry.
As the party continues to badger the clearly confused young man you eventually hear an old voice calling out from behind the door. It finally opens and reveals a wizened old woman in a blue-and-white abaya who arrives in time to hear the second round of discussion.
"Grandma, it's nothing, just some strange men asking strange questions." The man tries to direct her back inside, but she firmly pushes him aside and steps up to the group, seemingly the tallest there by sheer old gumption despite Gil towering over her. "Oh hush, Jubair. I'm old, but I can still have manners." She then addresses the group. "I have no idea what you are talking about, I think." There's a touch of uncertainty to her words. "But come inside and try explaining with a bit more detail for this poor woman, if you please. I have tea."
Which if you follow her inside the cluttered flat, you'll find she does indeed go about preparing while waiting for you to explain yourselves. It will be tough for everyone to squeeze inside, particularly due to larger members; as the place is stuffed with boxes of nutrient broth, gardening tools, and various cultural knickknacks that clutter the floor.
Jubair sits sullenly in the corner eyeing you all.
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Without another lead to follow, Hudathan follows the woman inside. "I'm sorry ma'am, but we are in a bit of a hurry. We're looking for someone who is especially good at computers, who used a computer at this address recently. It is vital we speak with them. Do you know who that might be?"
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She tuts Hudathan's haste and sets the tea down in front of him. "Your mother needs to teach you some better manners. Drink." She looks at the wall a moment and pulls aside her hair to press a few buttons on an implant hidden there. Her expression turns to confused surprise, and then she sighs in resignation. "I apparently do have some files that weren't here before, though I'm not sure how I got them."
Jubair seems shocked, and is about to speak up, but she waves him off. "My name is Ceren..." She pauses as if expecting some sort of recognition, then shakes her head and continues. "I used to be a hacker when I was younger... one of the best. But I got old." She motions to herself to demonstrate the obvious fact. "And I developed a degenerative brain disease, so I had to retire. A few expensive implants stopped the damage and keep me going, but I have large lapses in memory. They've really reduced my skills. I must have slipped into a younger mindset and done some hacking that I forgot about."
"I'm not even sure why I have them, so I'd be happy to give them to you for some help. Based on what these files say, I've stolen them from the Bluerise Tower, and they won't be happy. They're going to hunt me down and there's not much of a chance of me avoiding them." She points at the group with a thin hand. "You help me fake my death to get out of this mess I made, place me and my grandson under Society protection. And we have a deal."
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Nemzo quirks a brow and looks to the others. He speaks to Hudathan "The deal seems favorable to us. I suggest we take it. I have a few ideas on how to falsify our host's demise..."
Nemzo head jerks form side to side as his mechanical eyes sweep the small room. "Analyze ZIRA." His movements cease suddenly, and he turns his gaze to Ceren. "I assume you are willing to make whatever sacrifice necessary to complete the charade?"
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Protecting a woman from big bad corporations? That's something I can handle.
Hudathan sighs in relief. "Alright. Let's do what needs to be done. How do you suggest we fake her death?"
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"Oh good, I'm so glad we'll be able to work together. But let your more experienced elder give you some advice." She shuffles around the room ensuring everyone has their tea while the neural implant on the side of her head flickers away with hidden activity. "Instead of just jumping off all on your own of course. And if you hurt my tomato plants that'll be the end of you, youngin'." She swaps at Nm-0's arm as she passes by.
"First, you're going to need to manipulate the data to convince the infosphere systems that I'm dead, and second I'm going to need a new identity." Jubair is gathering up some of their more precious belongings as she talks. "You're going to need a body to either alter to look like me, or to change my records to match for the death faking. Then for my new life I'd like a good alias, a few friends and allies would be good, a new job wouldn't hurt... oh and papers! I need good, fake legal documents." She claps her hands together as the energy of the whole things takes her. "Oh, this reminds me of my younger days. I'm going to go into hiding for about 6 hours to get a few of my own arrangements together. Meet me at the south bridge in Jatembe park in 6 hours."
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Lumo, not so great at social situations, thinks hard. His face brightens up as he receives an idea. "Most people think all Vesks look the same. Let's go to the morgue and convince them that I have a dead relative inside. Once inside, we can convince the employee to file a fake report."
As the rest of the group discusses the plan, Hudathan interjects.
"You need a job? After Strawberry Machine Cake's latest music video, our restaurant has been slammed. We could use another fry cook."
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Gil, crouched in an area of the room where he thinks he'll be the least intrusive, sips on his tea while he thinks things over for a bit. He snaps his overly large fingers (probably making too-loud a crack with them) as he exclaims, I bet you have some interesting stories to tell! Maybe we could get you writing about your life, under a pseudonym of course. I could put in a good word for you with my publisher!
He starts standing up excitedly, an action revealed to be unwise as he smacks his head on the concrete ceiling before colapsing back down again. I also have a few retreats that I frequent, I could probably get you in contact with a couple of my poker buddies. They need some new blood in their games, he continues, rubbing his head where he undoubtedly would have a bruise later.
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"lt seems like we have enough technical expertise that using a body and just altering her records to match would be the route least likely to fail. Though I'm short on funds we do have those that we got for dealing with the feather stalker." Gerald will settle in and help Rigs create the false papers.
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"Hey, I'm fine with either path. But let me say, I can be scary! We could convince a mortician."
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Rigs and Gerald are quickly able to make up a set of believable papers for Ceren to use to get around Pact Space, and you both scoff at the ease with which you're able to break into the Absalom Station DMV to get licenses and passports printed.
While they are doing this Gil is able to the comm with his publisher and pull a few strings. When they hear who is on the line he's quickly bumped up to the company's president, who seems quite eager to please Gil after the success of his most recent release. They offer to give any friend of the Sarcesian a job, such as working in the editing staff. Unfortunately all of Gil's friends are currently nursing hangovers from his party last week.
Hudathan isn't the most gifted storyteller, and it seems like the folks working down at the morgue aren't likely to buy his lies until he pulls out a line about being adopted. He manages a few crocodile tears and gets through the front doors. A bit of wandering around lets him track down a mortician with a reputation for being flexible. A few credits from the previous reward go towards paying for his services in filing a report. Then a few well-placed reminders of the vesk love for fresh meat ensures he won't sell you out later for more profit.
Hudathan does try calling up his last job about getting a friend hired, but after the third ring he remembers how he accidentally set the kitchen on fire by dropping frozen meat directly into a frier. He simply quietly hangs up the comm and acts like he never made the call.
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Nemzo nods in approval at Rigs and Gerald's work. "Well done. Your code is acceptable and effective."
Nemzo begins to enter figures into the computer in an attempt to lay the groundwork for a cover identity. "I am attempting to create a framework for our hacker's new life. I will admit, this is not my expertise. I learn from data, I normally do not create it, especially fictions. Any help in this area will be greatly appreciated."
"This would have been easier with the grenade..."
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Gerald looks around the apartment to try and gauge some of Ceren's interest. "Rigs, give me a hand? Maybe between you, me and Hal we can get her new identity hooked into some online social circles. There's got to be a group for hackers that are too old, or people who forget the day to day illegal actions they take. That kind of thing happens to you organics often enough, right?" With that Gerald starts using the new identity they have to create accounts on Absalom Meetups and similar sites.
Gerald will set the parameters and feed in information and let Hal finesse the actual setup and contact emails.
Nm-O may not be the most creative of androids, but his scholarly backing gives him a moment of inspiration on his hack of the gibson. He's able to lay out a rather eloquent life story for one Miriam Mortise, simple patron to an orphanage for many years that has since retired and is loved by her community.
He brings this information to Gerald who is able to track down a few folks in the social services branch of the government to claim knowledge of her, as well as several people willing to pose as kids she cared for in her younger days.
And with that done the group feels relatively comfortable with their charade, willing to bet there's little more they can do with their experience. So they make for Jatembe park.
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Open to all citizens, Jatembe Park occupies a wide portion of the Eye of Absalom Station. Filled with lush trees and open grass fields, the park offers some natural terrain to the otherwise metalclad station. Ceren’s meeting point is one such forested portion of the park, specifically a spot often ignored by citizens due to the winding path required to reach it. The south bridge is quiet and as you all approach you initially only see Ceren and Jubair standing nearby.
As more comes into view you notice a group of three local gangers glancing between the distracted old woman and a datapad. About the time you're within polite conversation distance with Ceren they seem to have confirmed something and are approaching her as well. "Oy, you lot sod off. We need to have a word with the missus in private." One of them waves you aside in a way to briefly, and intentionally, flash the pistol holstered at his side.
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Nemzo follows his fellow androids lead and saunters up to stand behind AB-X1. He looks at the gangers, his circuitry flaring cobalt blue, he says quietly "ZIRA, paint me a picture dear.", then the right eye of the bronze skinned android flares bright blue and the hint of a targeting crosshair flashes on the iris for an instant.
"Looks like these folks are planning to interfere with out legitimate busy-ness practices. Let's knock'em around boys." The gangers clearly have no desire to even let you stick around, let alone have a conversation. When you fail to immediately back off they draw weapons while Nm-0 is drawing a bead on the yellow one.
The red and yellow dressed gangers are quick on the uptake, firing shots at Gerald and Nm-0 just for getting so up front and stand-offish. Red's blast manages to clip into Gerald's shoulder, an arc of electricity running across his body from the impact point as the pair move for cover at the edge of the bridge.
The green one catches his weapon in his oversized sleeve, leaving him slower to react compared to much of the party. Through all of this Ceren casually drags her grandson to the side to watch. She seems inappropriately excited about the shoot out, and the gangers don't seem to see her as part of the fight.
The drone hovers around, staying just below the lip (or railing) of the bridge to maintain cover.
It fires at the ganger dressed in red.
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Gerald grunts as the electricity arcs over him and yells over his shoulder "A little help here please? That stings." ignoring his own rifle Gerald moves up to the thugs, raises a hand and smiles slightly as a cool chill sweeps over him soothing the electrical burns. The gout of flame that washes out from his hand at the gangsters only makes the smile widen.
Overheat
15' cone(catching Yellow & Green), DC 14 reflex for half
The gangers may have let their arrogance get the better of them as the return barrage is already proving to be much larger than their own. The drone pops off a shot at the red ganger he can't seem to dodge away from, and it provides enough distraction that a second shot slams into his side from AB-X1.
Green takes a face full of heat exhaust as Gerald unleashes a massive blast of technomagic onto the wooden bridge. The result burns off half his hair, and he gives up on his gun and pulls out a baton instead. A couple quick strides and he takes a swing at the technomancer, whose reactions are now set to high. The android ducks low and the baton slams into the railing instead.
Yellow fairs better avoiding Gerald's spell, but he doesn't see Nm-0's shot coming because of it. The blaster fire slams into his chest hard and sparks fly as his jacket catches on fire. He yells in shock and beats at it with his free hand, already eyeing up the nearby river for salvation.
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You are on fire. As long as you have this condition, at the start of your turn each round before you take any actions (or attempt the Reflex saving throw described below), you take the listed amount of damage as fire damage (or 1d6 fire damage, if no amount is listed in the effect that causes burning). Fire damage from multiple sources that inflict the burning condition is cumulative.
At the end of each round you are burning, you can attempt a Reflex saving throw to remove this condition. The DC of this saving throw is equal to 10 + the amount of fire damage you took this round from the burning condition. If you succeed at this saving throw, you lose the burning condition. You can attempt a new saving throw each round you have this condition, and you receive a +2 bonus for each previous saving throw you’ve attempted in consecutive rounds.
You can also automatically end this condition by jumping into enough water to douse yourself. If you don’t have enough water on hand, you can spend a full action to roll on the ground or otherwise smother the fire to attempt a new saving throw with a +4 bonus (plus any bonuses from previously failed consecutive attempts) to end the condition.
The yellow ganger has a jacket that's currently on fire, but he sees his salvation in the water of the river. He starts to make his way towards it in a rush, but as he reaches the edge of the water he stops and widens his eyes. His last act is to look down to see the hole in his chest Hudathan has left there. He makes a small groan and then topples forward into the stream. The fire goes out, but so does he.
The red dressed ganger sees his buddy disappear at the base of the bridge and rolls his eyes before training a shot on AB-X1. His shot goes crashing off into the forward where a surprised bird chirps its last chirp when a well-time round from Gil clips his pistol hand, knocking his aim farm off course. He curses at the group in general while he starts aiming again.
The drone relentlessly assaults the Red ganger.