As the group moved forward, Arika bound from cover to cover, looking for the best spot to provide support.
As Baedjrak is about to poke the mug it turns into a small pile of pink tendrils, looking not entirely dissimilar to a pink mop head. It moves away from Baedjrak's tool across the table about a foot.
"PEOPLE, WE HAVE CONTACT!" , roars Trosvod as he aims and lets rip with his cannon at the little pile of tentacles.
The small creature stops moving, ichor oozing from it, death likely imminent.
The elf looked at the shattered table, the bits of gore, and the other assorted debris. His face was unreadable behind his mask. After a long moment of silence he went back to work, as if though the incident never happened.
...it's not beyond medical attention but no more will need to be done to kill it.
"Anyone fancy scraping that up? There must be a bucket around somewhere!"
”Yeah, scrape it up. It might be what is causing the power outages. But I’m still leaning towards poor craftsmanship and lack of maintenance.”
Trosvod seeks a bucket, in the spirit of helpfulness, and cheery that he got to shoot something.
"<<Anyone know what that thing is, and more importantly, if it's a baby or full grown?>>"
Trosvod kicks a storage cupboard open, still (in theory] seeking a bucket.
"Good question!"
None of you have seen a creature like it before so lack a frame of reference to determine it's progress on its lifestage.
Trosvod finds a plastic container.
Trosvod hums his jaunty tune as he uses the plastic container to scoop up the remains of the creature.
"<<Trosvod, try poking some other stuff to see if it's a shapeshifted creature or not.>>"
Trosvod grins widely.
And starts prodding random objects with the muzzle of his cannon.
Baedjrak stares in shock as his inquisitive approach is interrupted by the blast of an energy cannon. "By all the gods, is all you three want to do is kill everything!? I thought we were to be Starfinders, not just murderous mercenaries. This thing was being treated as a pet by those two children, I doubt it is a vicious destroyer. Is it not our charge to encounter and learn from the unknown when possible?!"
Shaking off his shock, he looks at the dying creature within the container, trying to make sense of it's anatomy. Very carefully, Baedjrak tries to stabilize the being so that someone more skilled or knowledgeable might be able to heal it.
Baedjrak manages to stabilize the creature in the bucket... it's definitely not a threat now.
Trosvod's investigations turn up no more shapeshifters.
The only thing left to do would be to attempt repairs potentially.
Trosvod shrugs.
"I can do other stuff. But I'm really good at shooting things. Case in point."
He swings the muzzle towards the bucket briefly.
"Anyone want to have a go at those wires?"
As Elthaeron went to work he said ”Starfinders are mercenaries. Assassins. Scholars. Looters. Whatever they have to be. And while being trigger happy is not a healthy habit, dropping bodies is part of our job description. But yes, we should be more considerate as to what we kill and break.”
Baedjrak twitches his nose at the large reptilian. Placing the container with the barely stable creature carefully on the floor, Baedjrak goes about trying to get the repair work done. "Let's see to this work now."
With a little bit of work your group is able to get the lights and power back on properly in this area.
Your comms receive a call "Good work, what was going on down there?"
Trosvod voxes back.
"Yup, it all looks good down here. Some alien critter got into the panels. Baedjrak has it in a bucket now."
"Can you say anything more about it? Is it dangerous or intelligent? Well it can't be too dangerous if you just have it in a bucket I suppose."
"<<It's some sort of Shapeshifter. When we first arrived in the room, it looked like a mug.>>"
"Interesting... Thanks for sorting out the power problem. I'll forward on the details of where you can drop it off. You'll need to head to deck H, then..." After dropping off the alien to some rather confused crewmembers Fitch sends each of ye four hundred credits.
Before you exit the ship a human approaches you "Hi I am Kieu Kein you helped find my kids after they wandered off. They were supposed to head to their cousins but.... look I was thinking you might like this as thanks." He offers your group a MkI Ring of Resistance.
"Thank you." says Arika to Mr. Kein.
"No problem, Kieu. Cheers for the ring."
After returning to Absallom Station and acquiring the new Strawberry Machine Cake album.
The Lorespire Complex, home and heart of the Starfnder Society, is a striking campus dedicated to knowledge. Communal labs and historical departments study the Archives’ massive collection of artifacts and texts, gathered by generations of agents from across the galaxy. A quick search of the directory indicates Historia-7 frequents the Archives’ Cortex, a computerized matrix containing digital records of the Starfnder Society’s most prominent discoveries.
The android reclines on a raised chair and is plugged into the local infosphere when the doors open. The neural cables detach themselves from her neck as she swivels in her seat to address the new arrivals. “Greetings, Starfnders,” she says calmly. “I am Historia-7. If you are seeking a mission from me, please be aware that my request requires both discretion and speed. Do not accept it if you feel incapable of working within these parameters."
“I discovered someone recently hacked into Bluerise Tower’s computer systems and stole a large amount of sensitive data from the resident corporations. I wish to be privy to this information. I managed to trace the hacker’s location through many proxies and erased the trail so that station and corporate security should be delayed in their pursuit. This deception will not fool them for long, so you must move quickly to retrieve the data before they can recover it. I will leave you to decide what to do with the hacker afterward, but should it be feasible, I believe that person would be an asset to the Society.”
"Speed? Definitely. Discretion? Yeah, I can keep my trap shut and my trigger finger relaxed."
He turns to the others:
"We are doing this, right?"
"Let's get moving. Send us the location please Historia-7."
Baedjrak nods politely to the human. "You are most kind, sir. Surely, it was a little thing. Kids are known for the trouble they get into. It helps to form who we become as adults. Hopefully they learned a bit of a lesson today."
______________________
Baedjrak listens carefully to Historia-7. At the mention of discretion, Baedjrak noticably raises an eyebrow as he looks to his companions. "With a bit of work, I think that can be accomplished. Ye all hear that, right? We are to try and recruit this person... not kill them. Oh, and Historia, we were asked earlier to bear to you a gift. A copy of the new Strawberry Machine Cake album."
Historia-7 provides you with the co ordinates and takes the album with a faint smile. "I expect I'll be hearing from you shortly."
Trosvod waves his arm in something vaguely akin to a salute.
"Aye, aye, skipper."
Baedjrak steps away, and looking to his companions, pulls up the coordinates on his computer. "Alright, let's make our way there with all haste. Let us have this list of tasks accomplished and move on to grander endeavors!"
The coordinates that Historia-7 gives point to an apartment that resembles a cement cube, with several tomato plants in plastic barrels sitting on an otherwise barren porch. Boxes of nutrient broth, gardening tools, and various cultural knickknacks clutter the floor of the flat, leaving barely any room for visitors to sit down. The plants are being hand-pollinated by a young man.
Trosvod whispers, with a flash of inspiration:
"Does anyone know what the guy we're looking for looks like?"
”No...by the stars we are bad at this. But this is an apartment. Let’s just kidnap anyone inside and figure out the ‘who’ later.”
"Oh hello there, did you say you were looking for someone, maybe I can help?" The man looks up from watering his plants.
Before he can respond to Elthaeron that they have no idea whom they are looking for, Baedjrak realizes the man has heard his companions strange interactions and might as well get on with it. "Good day, kind sir. My name is Baedjrak Bloodeye and I am looking into some technical anomalies that seem to have tracked to your residence. You wouldn't know anything about that, I am sure? But, perhaps you've been having trouble with one of your systems as of late. A malfunction, you could say. If so, perhaps I might take a look?"
"I don't think so, this is blue forty two. Do you have the right location details? I haven't noticed anything odd. It's just myself and mother here but she's a bit forgetful so if she saw something odd she'd probably have forgotten." He smiles warmly like someone's favourite uncle.
Trosvod eyes up the guy.
Carefully.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
This man is as complicated and nuanced as you've ever seen... you're not sure if he's hiding anything but he sure is friendly and enjoys watering those plants.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Trosvod gives the man his most sincere thumbs up.
What a complex but friendly guy!
Time for bad sec. Arika thought to herself.
"Cut the crap kid. Right now, you have two choices: Give US what you stole, or you can explain to certain parties while being medically 'Interrogated' that you 'don't know what's going on'."
The man looks horrified and quite scared of Arika despite the difference in size. "I-I-I didn't steal anything! Please sir don't hurt me!" His lower lip starts to wobble and his eyes water as he clearly becomes concerned bodily harm is imminent.
The door to the domicile opens up and a white hair elderly woman in a floral dress walks out. "Jubair what's all this noise?" She stops and blinks before smiling broadly "Oh hello there, are you all friends of my Jubair? I made some scones, would you like one?"
Trosvod turns his full investigative gaze upon the newcomer.
But first I'll cunningly distract her!
"I would love a scone!"
Elthaeron had his rifle safely locked away, but with an incantation could summon it to his hand. He was glad that he hadn't done so yet. Knowing that he was as useful in a social situation as a knife in a gun fight, he kept quiet, trusting in Baedjrak to talk for them. Still...he had to agree with Trosvod. A scone did sound good.
Brand turns from the young man to the elderly woman. "Good day, mum. While I am sure I and my companions would all enjoy a scone, we are unfortunately trying to keep Jubair here out of trouble for whatever less-than-legitimate hacking he may have been up to as of late. You seem the reasonable sort, perhaps you can convince him that we only mean to help and prevent what could otherwise happen. If we can remove the data, we could help clean up the path he laid... A path the authorities are likely already following..."
The old woman touches her lip with her fingers and gets a distant look. "Oh dear... I think I'm after landing us in some trouble Jubair. You should all come inside for those scones."
"Mummy?" Jubair follows her in asking her what is going on.
"The files you're looking for, I might have hacked them... not sure why though. My memory isn't what it used to be but I used to be a professional hacker. My memory problems put an end to that of course." Ceren hands out some scones and pours some tea looking like a sweet old lady... which she kind of is.
"What are you talking about mother?" Jubair asks as his illusions are dispelled.
She gives him a comforting smile."You're mother used to be- well I suppose you could say still is a criminal. Now seeing as you all didn't come kicking in the door I suspect you're not working for the corporation I took the files from?"
Trosvod is shocked.
A mistress of deceit! But... Scone!
"We're here for a deal. That data you took.. For working with us, and plenty of muscle between you and that corp. What do you say?"