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Which is to say that all you know about Kasathas you have learnt from bits of old school books or terrible trivid action flicks. In all of them Kastahas are portrayed as dignified and wise warriors with iron self control who find honour in hand to hand combat.
Gorsen, lazily twirling one of the many pistols of his collection in one of his hands while another plays with the hem of a Lashunta dancer pressed up against him as he lounges at his desk, is none of these things. His third hand waves you closer with what you imagine to be a leer hidden behind his traditional face covering, the only bit of Kasathan etiquette that he seems to have retained. Ah Feh-uunnh he deliberately mispronounces your name as you approach him. His fourth arm comes down to clamp on the but of your pistol. The best errand girl in the belt comes back for another package to deliver he sneers You should take my offer and give up on piloting my fine vessels from rock to rock. You'd make far more if you came to my side of the desk. His third hand comes down to pat his lap in invitation as the dancer glares at you with open hostility.
He's lying about the junk ship he's allowed you to use for his jobs as being anything close to fine. He is true though, you would get far more money doing almost anything else than what you're doing now, shuttling mysterious packages from one rock to another in the Diaspora, the asteroid belt in the Pact Worlds, known for many reasons as The Lost Ones. For one it describes you perfectly.
We were lost in slavery but we are now found in freedom. The Android Abolitionist Front has made it so. The Android opposite you intones as you sit in the small room that has been your home for the last little while. It's small, and all it contains other than two cots is a small trivid set that doubles as a commlink to non real time repositories to the Infospheres of various Pact Worlds, and a small armory of basic weaponry. To you, it's a paradise, as the only home you knew before this was slavery.
The Android Abolitionist Front got you out of that terrible situation and brought you to this tiny, cramped rock floating in the Diaspora to acclimatize you to freedom through trivid and Infosphere exposure. You've adjusted to this limited stimulus far faster than most and when you were deemed ready to be functional in a free life you requested, without prompting, to join the Android Abolitionist Front yourself.
For you to be unshackled is enough for the Android Abolitionist Front. You do not owe us anything other than to make full use of your new life. The Android that has been your mentor says to you seriously This is not a step to be taken lightly. Do you honesty wish to dedicate your life to serving freedom?
The middle class locals around the Park shun the place, knowing it derogatively as "Downlow Paradise" because of the large number of Spike dwellers that take advantage of its proximity to a high speed conduit elevator from the Spike. You don't care though; it's the place you find easiest to dream of a better life.
It's also close to The Lorespire Complex, home of The Starfinder Society. You know you have what it takes to be a valuable member of the Society and get out of a life stuck in the Downlow. Not only do you have the analog mechanical expertise that a Spiker almost needs to survive, you've also picked up a lot of digital knowhow that is harder to acquire there. It's all self taught though so what you don't have is academic certification proving you can do what you know you can. Back when the Starfinder Society had the pick of the crop of recruits from all across known space begging to sign up they brushed you off whenever you tried to join.
The Scoured Stars incident's humbled them quite a bit though and your repeated attempts to get through to a recruiter started to make some headway when the shattered organization started to rebuild under the leadership of a new First Seeker. Finally a dwarf named Duravor Keel you've been pestering returns your comms.
Listen Kid, I've got a shuttle that I'm sending out to pick up some other potential recruits. Nothing fancy, just a floating bedroom, run by a single pilot that we contract for stuff like this. I can call in a favor and get you on board. If you can actually do half of the things you claim the pilot'll let me know. Be the Engineer, Science officer, whatever of the shuttle, and, if you do a good job, then I'll help you get in. What do you say?
The first break you get and it's going to send you straight to the Stars!
So do you really want to be a star? Are you really not happy with the viewers you get? Intora says after he shuts off his infosphere link and finishes off his post workaround cooldown. He knows what he's talking about when it comes to this stuff as he almost finished training at one of the finest private soldier academies in Castrovel but then gave it up to be a bodybuilder and lifestyle vlogger.
That's why you're crashing with him in his fancy digs in Qabarat, one of the most beautiful cities in the home planet that you two share. Of course you're from the elven parts of Castrovel while Qabarat is very much Lashunta, just like Intora. But that doesn't matter to you much in your quest for more and more viewers. You're here to glean off some of his viewers if you can. While he's making a series of vlogs about helping newbies start seriously working out, you're making a series of goofy vids about your attempts to learn new skills. The result is amusing enough but Intora's viewers don't seems to have much patience for your antics while your viewers seem to be smitten by the gorgeous hunk that he is. If anything your some of your viewers are going to be spending their clicks on ogling him instead of you rather than the other way around! This. Isn't. Working. And you've been complaining about that fact non stop as soon as the comms shut off.
Look, you're good Intora says. But the kawaii style of vlogging is just really over saturated y'know. If you really want to get your counts up then you're going to hafta come up with a better gimmick. he sighs as he wipes off his face and dires the sweat dripping from his antenna. Look, there's something that I can twig you onto but I don't know, it could be not safe, y'know?
He's strong, he's gorgeous, he's got a great screen presence. And now he's showing he's smart as well? No wonder he's got all those subscribers. The Universe Just Is Not Fair!
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It's not a fair advantage: watching someone with four hands is exponentially more difficult than watching only two. Fianh devotes her attention to Gorsen, calmly ignoring the glare she receives from the dancer: for one thing, unless the girl has some hidden compartment under her skin, it's very obvious she's unarmed; for another, Fianh would happily eat a bullet from her Mitsuyoba heavy pistol before accepting Gorsen's offer.
She gives him a very slight bow, and does her best to edge back from him. "So sorry, Tian names not easy for kawaruhito." (Changed ones; aliens.) "Please to call me Fi." Fi can, if she chooses, speak Basic perfectly (although it's a poor substitute for her native Tian - it lacks inflections and all but the most primitive of status-indicators) but for now at least, she has adopted an accent and way of speaking that is almost a caricature from those trivid action-flicks. Whatever it takes to make someone underestimate you, be willing to do it. Damn. Her memories of homeworld may be fading, but Nikki's voice echoes in her mind like it was only this morning that they last spoke.
Her eyes regard the Kasatha warily: most fixers at the lower ends of the spectrum end up dead pretty quickly, unless they sell out to become some crime-lord's lackey; and Gorsen hasn't sold out, so far as she knows. He likes his independence too much. Which, shudderingly, gives her more in common with him than she cares to admit.
She pushes all those thoughts to the back of her mind and stares at Gorsen: "You have package for me, yes/no?"
The sooner she's done with this, the sooner she can be back where she belongs: in the pilot seat, pitting her wits and skill against the flotsam and jetsam of the Diaspora as she flings Gorsen's rust-bucket of a junk ship across the heavens.
But and hear the Kasatha spreads his arms wide, one still twirling the pistol. There are others who may wish to hear what you have to tell. And I would not be who I am if could not turn even a liability such as you into an asset. Tell me, what do you know of The Starfinder Society? And recent.. unfortunate... developments in The Scoured Stars.
The Scoured Stars?! Dammit, think - quickly!
Fianh's homeworld is extremely, deliberately, insular; off-world trade is regulated and limited, with visitors strictly confined to certain areas. Only the most highly credentialed members of the most honourable families (or Fellowship pilots) have the opportunity to leave, other than through exile - although most given that fate choose the honourable way out.
She's drawing a blank. News of the outside may well be of interest to the daimyo, but it has passed her by completely. Either that, or the shock of her only meal ticket being withdrawn has driven out everything else, apart from her pique at being criticized: I am NOT a liability, you ignorant BARBARIAN! I'm the best pilot you have! I deliver your stupid packages safer and quicker than any of your other wannabe jockeys - and if I feed the Oni at the same time, well, surely a four-armed kawaruhito can understand the virtues of multi-tasking?!
Sure. Tell him that. Why not then throw yourself out the nearest airlock? It'll save everyone time...
The bow she gives is deeper this time. "So sorry, Gorsen-san." She doesn't usually favour him with the honorific, but she's keenly aware of the need to get back on his good side, if she still can. "Please enlighten most shameful ignorance of your humble servant and share wisdom relating to Pathfinder Society and unfortunate developments." Most people are susceptible to being flattered, she's noticed (apart from Nikki, who just saw right through it and dismissed the teller with a smile) - and Gorsen is definitely no exception.
Pathfinder Society? Gorsen chortles pleased more by Fianh abasing herself before him rather than any flattery. I knew your planet was backward but so primitive to call it Pathinder? Did you learn to pilot by beating a mule with a stick as well? Gorsen throws his head back to laugh, the sound high and unpleasant as it rings out even as all his lackeys join in at his mockery of your mistake. The dancer, whose name you suppose you should know since she does seem to be a favorite of your employer, joins in with particular gusto. Their laughs and jeers fall on you until Gorsen tires of it. He waves his hand to quiet them The Starfinder Society, as even the most ignorant of slugs crawling under even the most lowliest of rocks knows, sent almost all of its strength to pierce the veil of mystery around The Scoured Stars system. So sad to say that they all vanished. Presumed dead. And the leftovers are desperate to not fade into epilogue. Desparate enough I think to take you. As it happens an old acquaintance of mine joined their organization just before disaster struck them. And he's eager to recurit anyone with any amount of skill. I never liked him much so I'm sending him you. Gorsen leans back and grabs the dancer again to yank her back onto his lap.
I would sell you into slavery like I do with most who dissapoint me he says as he fondles the dancer possessively consider it to be a lucky twist in your tale that it benefits me more to gain a favour with The Starfinders. Now get to the Wandering Waystation before the shuttle he sent leaves or I might change my mind on that. Take your pathetic excuse for equipment and get out.
When you turn to leave he calls out Oh and I am keeping the security deposit you put down for the honour of using my ship. The wear and tear you put on it is explained by you beating the controls with your mule stick and the laughter follows you out.
You're going to have to spend some of your rapidly waning credit reserves to gain transport to the Diaspora Station Gorsen directed you to rather than leaving you the dignity of flying there yourself. This might be the ultimate humiliation.
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Astrianna shuts off her infosphere link as well, immediately dropping character. "S*!@." She pants, nonchalantly sitting on a anti-grav exercise ball and reaching up to tear off the cute, if itchy, sweatband she had affixed around her head. The article gets aggressively tossed across the room at nothing in particular.
"Intora..." The half-elf says breathlessly, still trying to recover from the hellish (by her standards) exercise routine he had devised today. "Firstly, that "cooldown" was the same exercise as yesterday with half as many reps. Are you trying to turn me into a damned noodle?" She complains, though she doesn't even wait for an answer.
"Secondly, it's not a matter of wanting it. I will be famous. I just need a big break. Something that I can use a launching board into a legitimate video career." Emerald eyes cast him a sidelong glance and she muses- If I just screwed the tar out of him I could get a whole lot more- The thought doesn't last long; some sweat drips into her left eye, which she reflexively wipes it away, destroying her makeup.
Astrianna despondently stares at the black-smudged hand before throwing it up in exasperation. "UGH, gods. Look, you're right. This isn't working for me. My diehard fans are still around, but I can't seem to attract anyone new. It's b$!&*@&#. You know I'm good, but no one else seems to have any eye for my talents around here. Which, by the way, is why I appreciate your help."
She jumps up, snatching her water bottle off the floor as she starts pacing the room. "Dangerous? Well it can't be as dangerous as the depression I'm developing from this slump." Pausing dramatically, she takes a gulp from the water bottle. "Seriously though, should I go hiking through a Formanian hive cluster covered in honey or something? "
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Prospero-4 runs his finger along the edge of the trivid box. The small room around him feels safe. He knows intimately every corner of it, and knows the walls shelter him from the outside world. Everything he has learneda, is filtered through the limited databanks he has access into. But even with this limited knowledge, he knows he cannot stay here. He thirsts for more, for true freedom.
"Yes." Prospero-4 turns to face the other android, looking him in the eyes. "I am ready to leave." This was a lie, of course. He might never be ready. But the first step must be taken. But once he takes that step, he would be without function, without purpose. Freedom can be terrifying thing.
"What should I do? Where should I go?" he asks, hoping to anchor himself into some goal.
There's a dwarf from Absalom Station that's been trying ta recruit me into the Starfinder Society for weeks now. Intora says as he busies himself mixing the powder with cracked eggs of various kinds and splashing in some kind of milk before tossing it all into a state-of-the-art blender that he's sang the praises of on his vlogs and setting the machine going. Says they could really use someone with my military training an' can make videos to attract more recruits. Honestly I think they're just desperate.
Now I'm not interested. I got everything I want here with my apartment, the gym, clubs, all the other vloggers I get to meet. He raises a glass to you before popping the blender open and pouring out the foul smelling liquid inside. I don't want to travel the stars, meet new aliens, alla that stuff.
Buuutt Intora continues drawing out the syllable there's a lot of sympathy out there for the Starfinders right now, they're in the news all the time what with the Scoured Stars Stuff, and I'm seeing a lot of extreme adventure type vids starting to get popular. IF you want I could introduce you to the guy. They get up to some extreme stuff and you'll get a lot of hits just cause everyone's talking about 'em.
He pours you a glass of the stuff as well and brings it over to you I saw those target shooting vids you made which made me think that maybe you'd be able to handle yourself out there he gives you a raised eyebrow I could tell you were missing most of those targets on purpose. So. Should I give you his comm?
Malex-2 then moves to the trivid box and switches it on to browse to an archived news vid. First Seeker given up as Lost. Starfinder Society Loses Hope in The Scoured Stars Expedition the news ticker blares as it crawls across the bottom.
I trust you have seen such video news items? If not, then review them. The Starfinder Society is an organization tangentially allied to us. They have their own concerns but have always been friendly to our cause. However now that they are reduced to 20% of their operational capacity, this may... change their outlook towards us as they rebuild.. Malex-2 turns to you, her smooth face impassive but she speaks faster than usual The Front would like to see to it that they maintain their positive stance towards the cause of Abolition. They are desperate for recruits and your skills would suit them well. Your direction is thus simple. I will transport you to a station named The Wandering WayStation. Arrangements have been made with a recruiter named Duravor Kreel who will send a shuttle to pick you up and transport you to Absalom Station. There you are to endeavor to join the Starfinder Society as a member in good standing. Learn what they teach you. Rise in their Ranks. Be a strong voice in support of the cause of Android freedom. This is the purpose that we assign to you, young one.
The fool who says 'my honour is my life' will assuredly lose both, and deserves neither. She remembers Nikki telling her that very calmly once, when she was driving him back from a meeting, fuming on his behalf about the condescension he'd received from the older daimyo.
It's a good lesson; remembering it now, she swallows her words and takes the mockery in silence. She covers her mouth with one hand briefly when Gorsen announces that those who disappoint him end up as slaves, and glances quizzically at the Lashunta dancer: So, that is your fate once you bore him? I don't think the Starfinder Society takes dancing girls, so sorry.
Once it's clear that Gorsen has finished his posturing, she nods. "Seems we have no further use for each other. Farewell."
She doesn't turn away from him: instead, she leans backwards, tumbling into a series of backflips and cartwheels, an acrobatic display that she doubts the dancer can emulate.
Being a great pilot requires superb reactions, which take effort, skill and fitness to maintain: she spends an hour a day at least in working out - gymnastics, parallel bars, the beam; she's not especially muscled but she has excellent coordination. She doesn't put a foot wrong as she pirouettes away.
She's not really dressed for it - her top rides up around her shoulders, revealing the yakuza tattoos across her back (the motif is of a tiger-lily: Nikki's suggestion, and one that showed his high regard for her) - but she doesn't care how much she shows off: let the kawaruhito see what he's been missing out on as it finally moves out of his reach.
"Wait what?" She stops, quickly turning to look at Intora with a confused expression. Falling uncharacteristically silent, she listens closely.
Astrianna's face has changed to one of reflection and calculation, looking past Intora as he hands her the protein mixer.
Taking it without looking, the half-ef sucks in a breath and sets her jaw. "I heard about the Scoured Stars thing, seemed like the end for the Starfinders after that fiasco. Any corporation losing that much personnel and capital would have been instantly sunk. I guess they run off sponsers, though."
She takes a gulp from the "protean puke", as she liked to cheekily call it on vid, immmediately chasing it with a drink of water to facilitate the movement of the thick goop down her throat. At first she found it repulsive due to its contents and smell, but the chunky pudding texture was kind of growing on her.
"Yeah, I can shoot. I've taken some self-defense classes too. I mean real ones, not like in that b#&~*$%$ chi blocker vid if you happened to see it. It's kind of an Elf thing too, I've heard it's genetic. As far as I can tell I got all the good Elf and Human genes." She realizes she's rambling, still processing this idea behind a stream-of-conscience babble often used to fill dead air.
Astrianna shakes her head, takes a big gulp of protean puke, and just decides to go with it. "Oh, why the hell not? Yeah, give me his comm. I mean worst case scenario I go sign up to carry some archaeologist's spare pocket protectors while they dig up ancient Vesk latrines or whatever and cash out. I'm sure I could transition into producing videos for them full-time once they see my talents. Their PR team probably flew into a black hole or something."
She raises the glass to Intora, flashing him a confident grin. "Thanks, by the way. Even though you've been trying to aerobically murder me, I won't forget this when I make it big."
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"I'll pack my things immediately!" she piped though she already had a bag ready to go since last summer. Mental note - do see if maybe I should stuff it with some fresh clothes. But in a moment! First she needed to secure this. "What dock should I head to? What's the ship called? Who's the pilot?" There was so many questions so she better try and juuuuust go with the most important ones. "How long? Will I need my fancy suit?*"
*there really wasn't one; only well-worn and very well-worn ones. Hopefully he'd say no! Hmm. Maybe I can borrow sis nice one? Hmm...
Luckily the docking bay Duravor relays to you is in a part of the Arms that's not far away from the conduit elevator closest to where you live. Docking Bay 94.
Just as promised when you get there you find The Okimoro docked. It only takes a moment to verify your credentials and get you on board.
On board you find a shuttle that is pretty much at first glance the floating bedroom that Duravor described. Its three expansion bays are made up of a Guest Quarters, Escape Pods, and a trivid entertainment module to keep the guests at least somewhat entertained during the days that it takes for interplanetary travel within the Pact worlds system.
Ah, the Starfinder initiate Kerpask greets you when you come on board. Shirrens prefer to communicate telepathically as, even though the can vocalize Common, their voice sounds grating to the other species. Come in, find a space for yourself in the Crew Quarters while I prepare to launch. First test for you after this. Tell me everything you can about this ship.
Prosporo-4 arrives there escorted by Malex-2, who embraces you in an unexpected show of emotion before leaving you there to wait.
Fianh arrives just a little later on a hired ship. The pilot refuses to even look at his passenger. Word of Fianh's quite spectacular entracne has spread in Gorsen's little circle and nobody wants to associate themselves with someone as foolhardy to make a spectacle when they really should taken the opportunity to make a quiet exit.
It's not a very large place so, quite quickly, the two of you realize that you're waiting for the same ship sent by your Starfinder contact Duravor Kreel. The Okimoro
It takes The Okimoro piloted by its owner, the Shirren Kerpask, and with Leila as the single other crew member, five days to make the trip from Absalom Station to The Wandering Waystation in the Diaspora. After picking up Fianh Jin and Prosper-4 it takes a week, travelling almost directly to the center of the system, to get to the jungle planet, Castrovel, which is second from the sun itself.
From there it's only a two day trip to Absalom Station. Seat of the Starstone and home of what remains of the once proud Starfinder Society.
"Starfinder Society..." Prospero-4 says, and then stands in silence while his Exocortex retrieves all the data he has stored of the organization.
"They... explore distant worlds? A great loss, recently - The Scoured Stars incident. Yes, recruiting new members is a logical move." he speaks slowly, giving himself time to piece the facts together. The exocortex confirms what Malex-2 had just told him, and it sounds good so far.
"Yes. I will do this. I will represent AAF among their ranks. I will contact this Duravor Kreel, and hear him out."
What he doesn't say, is that he feels very uncomfortable meeting with organics. His previous experience with them hasn't been too pleasant. Of course, what he has read, they are not all slavers. But it will take some time to unlearn the distrust.
Prospero-4 stands in place, puzzled by Malex-2's sudden show of emotion. The sound of door opening makes him turn his head slightly, to face the newcomer. Immediately, the exocortex starts running a scan on Fianh, filling Prospero-4 with information.
"Are you..."
Organic? Yes. He is fully biological lifeform. Human. Not he. She. Female of the species. Armed. Geared for combat? Unlikely.
"...waiting for the Okimoro?" he finishes his sentence with flat, emotionless tone. His genderless face expresses no emotion, but the eyes are tightly fixed on Fianh.
Fianh stifles a grin as she practically skips out of the small craft, ignoring the pilot as thoroughly as he ignored her.
If an enemy cannot be reasoned into a friend, try to make them angry. Angry people make mistakes. Well, that's one part of Nikki's teachings that she's never had a problem with!
Her jubilation fades swiftly as she quickly realised she is not alone: she is being observed by a... a mekko-ren, a manufactured person. Androids are a rare sight indeed on her homeworld, and she looks at him with curiosity while at the same time trying to maintain her 'inscrutable Tian' persona from the trivids.
She bows courteously to the... person. "Konichiwa. Yes, correct, am waiting for Okimoro." She puts one hand to her chest and bows again. "Name Fianh; family name Jin. Most Outlander have trouble with name, prefer to call me Fi. Is OK."
She gestures eloquently at the waystation. "What bring you to this place, middle of nowhere?"
She looks at the android carefully, trying to see if it can follow her badly mangled Basic.
And then she tried to rank her knowledge in the order of most to least interesting. We'll see how it goes!
Tian language - origin in ancient Golarion. Vocabulary unavailable. Context analysis: a greeting.
Prospero-4 studies curiously at the bowing woman, unsure what to make of the manners. Exocortex doesn't detect hostility, but he keeps a wary stance.
"I am... pleased to meet you Fianh. Jin." Prospero-4 picks the pronunciation exactly from Fianh's speech - making it sound strange by mimicing the higher pitch of the woman's voice. "I am Prospero-4. No family, no family name. Four as in fourth to inhabit this shell."
Prospero-4 looks around, following Fianh's hand. This is the first time he moves since Fianh arrived, and even now just the head. This waystation is no more or less middle of nowhere than any other place he's been so far. But based on the trivids he's seen, Fianh must compare this to a planet or a bigger station. So best leave that remark alone.
"I am waiting for a ship. The Okimoro. To meet Duravor Kreel"
Engineering wise the ship has no Drift Engine, which isn't too surprising for a ship that isn't going to travel outside the Pact worlds, the thrusters though are S10s which are as fast as a small ship can go without compromising maneuverability. The Shields on the ship are also far from budget. These are Light Shields which provide a lot of cover and regenerate twice as fast as more Basic Models
The computer has more surprises. The computer, which Kerpask gives you access too, is a Mk 1 mononode which is fairly unexciting, but Kerpask has installed not only a false shell but also a firewall protecting the core components of the shuttle control systems. There's also Mk2 defenses to try and stuff any tracked weapons fired at the ship. Basically there's a LOT of defensive overkill happening here.
The sensors are good too, really really good, they're medium range and advanced which means Kerpask should be able to detect threats from pretty far away.
All of this explains why the shuttle also sports a Pulse Black Power Core pumping out 120 PCUs. It's still more than what the shuttle needs but even a lower model power could would be unable to keep all the advanced defensive and sensing equipment of the shuttle running at the same time.
There's a flak thrower mounted on the front of the ship, but it seems like an afterthought.
The ship is built to detect threats and run away from them, and take a pounding while it does so.
After Leia is done, Kerpask looks up from her controls
Well? she asks.
Fianh blinks; what are the chances that the only other person here is also on their way to meet the same person that she is? On the other hand, this is the Diaspora - all sorts of crazy **** happens here.
She shrugs. "Me too. Same ship, same person. Funny, hey?" A scowl. "You know how long we wait here?"
Fi gets bored fast. Reeeeeeeeallly boooooored. Reeeeeeeeallly fast. After about half a minute, it becomes clear that the two of them have exhausted all the possibilities of conversation. Time to see what this place has to offer. "I go, I come back. Exploring." She looks back at Prospero-4. "You come with?"
Inside you find a Shirren Pilot who introduces herself as Kerpask in your head and a halfling engineer named Leila. There's a short recorded message from Duravor Kreel stating that he'll meet you at Absalom Station when the shuttle gets in around nine days or so from now. Kerpask lets you know that you will be picking up another passenger in Castrovel.
Inside you find the ship has a somewhat cramped guest room with three bunk beds that can accommodate six people and a Holographic Amusement Center. The Amusement Center also has a terminal with a laggy link to the Infospheres of various Pact Worlds. The farther away the world, the laggier the link. It's far better than a lot of the places the two of you have rested, that's for sure.
Fianh, you might not know all the details, but you can tell the shuttle, unlike the junker Gorsen saddled you with, is well loved and well cared for as it goes about its pedestrian business.
The Diaspora looks like a floating disaster zone of jagged rocks and icebergs, and it takes some skill for Kerpask to navigate through it as she makes her way to The Wandering Waystation. Once you dock, Kerpask comms the passengers and the two of them make their way up. There's an Android named Prospero-4 and a human named Fianh. Oddly enough the human seems almost as expressionless as the Android.
Entering atmosphere and landing is also a far bumpier affair than landings in space stations. Especially for those of you unused to planets. Even through the climate controlled insides of The Okimoro you can feel the hot and humid weather outside seeping in. It's certainly not artifically maintained.
You'd been expecting one of the major spaceports but instead it's a smaller one nearer to the outskirts of the city. Weird. You'd told Duravor Kreel that you could make your own way to Absalom Station any time but he explained that he wouldn't be able to accommodate you separately so you might as well wait for the shuttle which would have three other potential recruits and he'd bring you to the Starfinder Society initiation areas together. Honestly the dwarf seemed to be disheartened that Intora wasn't the one that was coming in and he didn't seem nearly as enthusiastic about you joining as he should have.
You make your way to the small spaceport and go through the usual tedious process of customs and checking and migration control. The small launch pad you're directed to is oddly far away from the main launch pads that the usual commercial spaceliners or private charters use. When you get to it you find wating for you something that looks like a grey tub attached to stubby wings. Inside the Shirren pilot and Halfling Engineer greet you and direct you to the room you're expected to share with an Android and a Human who both seem to have expressions made out of frozen plastic. You don't even have your own room? What kind of a dump is this? You have to put up with for two days?
The space lane between Castrovel and Absalom Station is very well travelled and regulated. That's why Kerpask seems surprised when the scanners of the ship pick up a ship on an interception course.
Passengers, this is your pilot Kerpask, please make your way to your living quarters, Leila can you please run a scan on the unexpected ship?
The arrival of the Okimoro is perhaps the first time in several days that Fianh looks truly alive; she watches it as it docks, and when she arrives at the bay it has landed in, she is almost as interested in the shuttle (both outside and inside) as she is in the people on board. And they are curious people indeed: some sort of overgrown cockroach and a severely undergrown midget. She was always aware that the Outland planets were filled with extraordinary things and people - in the Diaspora, it turns out, some of the things are also people. Repressing the instincts to look for a super sized slipper, she instead bows and introduces herself, just as she did with the android-san.
She does not take well to being a passenger, but it is only for a few days. She spends most of them either doing her exercises in some secluded part of the shuttle, or sitting on her bunk trying to remember her meditation techniques.
...
The stately, sedate landing on Qabarat almost drives her to distraction, as they proceed through the atmosphere in slow intervals - Just get the bloody thing DOWN, already! - but she does her best to mask the frustration, drawing her hood over her face and her knees up to her chest, reciting mantras until it's all, interminably, over. This too shall pass... this too shall pass... this too shall pass... GET THE F&*&* ON WITH IT!!!!!!!!!!
Her impassive face looks Astrianna up and down when the half-elf boards: her first impression (relief at the presence of a fellow 'normal') dims somewhat when she sees that the taller woman has obvious kawaruhito features. Although she has to admit, the woman wears them well: she projects a glamour and ease of confidence that very few possess. Fianh wonders what it is that she has to be confident about - Gorsen said the Starfinder Society was desperate... I didn't realise they were casting their net quite THAT widely. Still, it makes it more likely that they'll accept me, I suppose.
...
The space lane between Castrovel and Absalom Station is very well travelled and regulated. That's why Kerpask seems surprised when the scanners of the ship pick up a ship on an interception course.
Passengers, this is your pilot Kerpask, please make your way to your living quarters, Leila can you please run a scan on the unexpected ship?
Fi entirely fails to think of herself as a passenger: she instead makes a beeline for the cockpit, addressing Kerpask directly.
"Trouble?"
Her voice sounds bright, cheerful; hopeful.
Please, my Oni, let something exciting happen...
While Fianh is practically bouncing all around the room, Prospero-4 is yet to move at all. Only his head adjusts slightly, as he tries to keep the restless woman in his field of vision.
"Exploring?" Prospero-4 repeats Fianh's question. His preliminary analysis tells him there is not much to find in this waystation. But in his limited experience, he might be wrong. "Yes, I will join you, Fianh Jin"
"Do you want to go outside or stay in?"
Coming onboard The Okimoro, Prospero-4 looks around the ship, and feels comfortably familiar in it's confined corridor. He stares at Kerpask and Leila slightly longer than would be considered polite in most cultures. But these are both creatures he's so far seen only in trivids. "Good day. I am Prospero-4. I travel in this ship to Absalon Station" he says, in what is supposed to be a greeting.
Throughout the journey, Prospero-4 mostly stays in Amusement Center, keeping wired into the terminal. He the sits all his waking hours, trying to absorb as much information as the laggy connection can feed him. But when Kerpask tells everyone to go to living quarters, he senses something is happening. Something that was not planned. Curious of what is the unidentified ship the pilot mentioned, Prospero-4 tries to see if he could access the ship's main computer, and follow the results of the scan.
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Something about all this just didn't sit well with Astrianna. A back-door landing pad on flying tin can? THIS is what I was waiting on? I could have been in Absalom a week ago, flying Platinum Class on a commercial Lashunta vessel, but they want me to board a piece of space trash? If Intora hadn't given her this information, she'd suspect she was about to be kidnapped and ransomed.
Her face has already settled into one of obvious, minor annoyance as she walks up the boarding ramp, taking a left towards the bridge. "This is the Okimoro, right?" Is the first thing out of her mouth, a tinge of skepticism on her voice despite the clearly labeled docking schedule she had recieved.
The reassurance from Kerpask causes her usually full and pouty lips to crease into a thin, disappointed line. "Mmh. Yes, I'm Astrianna. Well, I'll be in my room. I'll find it, thanks." To which she walks off without even glancing at the halfing. The cramped corridors are not confusing at least- there's not many places to go on the small ship.
She opens the door to the directed room, and the surprise from seeing two other individuals already inside making her eybrows shoot up. "Oh! Sorry. This must be the wrong room." Astrianna says quickly, rapidly closing the door and turning to continue down the hallway. Must be the crew quarters. Kerspask seemed pretty competent, why would he direct me to the wrong room?
As she checks the other doors (engineering... lavatory.... life support...) it dawns on her that there wasn't any other bunk space. That room was it. Oh my gods... what is this a Dirt class flight? What have I gotten myseelf into? Damn it, Intora... no wonder he didn't want to join. With a frustrated, gurgling growl, she turns around and makes her way back to the room with the Android and Human.
The door to the room opens once more, but this time the half-elf walks in. "Welllllll, looks like we'll be rooming together. What a dump, huh? I would have just strapped a Drift engine to a trash can and rode it into the Sun if I had known THIS was going to be my ride." The half-elf chuckles at her own joke, but quickly stops when the other two don't even crack a smile.
While speaking she had already tossed her large green and gold patterned backpack onto one of the bunks, not even bothering to ask whose it is. The bag matches her current outfit- brand new, elastic emerald green leggings spotted with flecks of gold catch the light in the room, contrasting with a perfectly fit, slicky cut black top with the Elven word for "Love" printed in a stark white across her chest. The top is sleeveless and left her shoulders exposed, a common style in the warm summer months on Castrovel.
"I'm Astrianna, by the way.... Astrianna Sparacello... I go by Songbird... on the infosphere..." With every pause she tries to see some kid of recognition in their faces, but they clearly don't spend any time on the infosphere. "Ever had Sparacello wines...? My family makes them. Maybe...? No...? Okay."
She flops on a bunk different from the one she threw her stuff on, seemingly claiming them both. Lifting her wrist, she flips open her comm and takes a picture of her face. A holographic keyboard appears, and she captions the picture of her nonplused expression with the caption My reaction when I discover I'm riding Dirt Class to Absalom Station with Troglodytes..
She uploads it to her Roccer account, adding some trendables- #AstriAdventure #Songbird #DirtClass # Travel #ShamefulShips
Astrianna proceeds to lay on her bunk and take unflatteering pictures of the room, posting them on the infosphere's premiere forum for making fun of derelict spacecraft, ShamefulShips, until they get out of range of Castrovel's infosphere com towers. Oh, they're going to love this.
Astrianna was in the middle of making a video about spraying the lavatory down with industurial-grade cleaning agents, which she had "borrowed" from the stock room, when the intercom flares to life.
She addresses her viewers, accessing her comm to run her standard post-processing program on the video before automatically uploading it to the infosphere while she speaks. "Oof. What do you think that could be, guys? My money is on a pod of space whales. Well, it'll give time for this "PyroClean" to soak in. Check my Roccer account for a update on this myterious alarm! See you next time! Songbird signing off."
The feed is cut, and her comm starts to process and upload the video to the nearest comm bouy on their current space lane.
The half-elf bursts into the bunk room with a smile. "Some excitement! What do you think it is? Pod of Space whales? They backed up interplanetary traffic for over a standard day a year ago. Gods, someone actually rammed one with their ship and I read that the Xenodruids put a hit out on the pilot."
Kerpask turns to Fianh with some irritation as she crowds into the shuttle's control area. A standard shuttle can accommodate a crew of up to four people and this one is no different so there's enough space for her. This is just not what Passengers should be doing.
Go back to your bunks please. Random hostile activity is not unheard of but also not a concern, I will just lead it the closest Pact Steward security waystation. Do not be worried.
Prospero manages to use the terminal to get into other parts of the ship's computer systems. He finds the scanner module but opening it finds that there is no output coming in. That is certainly odd.
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The door to the room opens once more, but this time the half-elf walks in. "Welllllll, looks like we'll be rooming together. What a dump, huh? I would have just strapped a Drift engine to a trash can and rode it into the Sun if I had known THIS was going to be my ride." The half-elf chuckles at her own joke, but quickly stops when the other two don't even crack a smile.
Fi shrugs. "Is OK. Modified Standard Shuttle with Fastersky Corp S10 thrusters; personally, prefer bit faster, like Sukohama S-12, or Tortoyuba T-14 in smaller ship: sacrifice lateral stability for more go-forward-power. Shields upgraded from basic model; generator hidden, but would guess Abadarcorp - fast regeneration and good cover. Not seen computer yet, but seem to work well."
She looks at the half-elf, in her blazoned crop-top (Fi understands both Elven and Lashunta, but isn't ready to let that on yet): "What your preferred choice of starship?" She wonders why she's bothering. Anyone who doesn't understand that a Drift engine isn't required in order to get where they're going isn't worth the effort of proper conversation. On the other hand, she's reaaaaally bored.
"I'm Astrianna, by the way.... Astrianna Sparacello... I go by Songbird... on the infosphere..." With every pause she tries to see some kid of recognition in their faces, but they clearly don't spend any time on the infosphere. "Ever had Sparacello wines...? My family makes them. Maybe...? No...? Okay."
Fianh bows. "Please to meet you, Astrianna. Am Fianh. Family name Jin. Please to call me 'Fi' - Tian names tricky for Outlanders, it appear." Her face brightens at the mention of wines: "Ah, yes. Castrovellian wine much appreciated back at homeworld." No need to tell this woman that Fi has spent a lot of time in and around Castrovel (hence her facility with its languages): its exports are good quality, but the customs charges are exorbitant (hence the need for a good smuggler). She shakes her head: "So sorry, Sparacello not familiar name." If you're going to smuggle, you only go for the biggest, most valuable names.
Kerpask turns to Fianh with some irritation as she crowds into the shuttle's control area. A standard shuttle can accommodate a crew of up to four people and this one is no different so there's enough space for her. This is just not what Passengers should be doing.
Go back to your bunks please. Random hostile activity is not unheard of but also not a concern, I will just lead it the closest Pact Steward security waystation. Do not be worried.
Fi looks at the insectoid in disbelief, her cheeks flushing pink with emotion. "You haven't even disengaged the lateral dampers!" All traces of her trivid Tian accent have disappeared. "A 'random hostile' and you aren't conducting evasive maneuvers?!" A horrible thought strikes her. "Please, in the name of the Twelve Gods, tell me you have some flight combat experience."
She has a terrible foreboding that the word 'simulator' is about to come up.
Please, Oni-ma, don't let me die in a ship piloted by ... the shame of it.
Flight combat experience? comes the irritated reply in Fian's head I am not some pirate dog fighter. I am plotting a course for the closest security waystation and will send a distress signal. The Stewards will intercept long before we would be harmed
Prospero-4 realises that he has accessed a Fake Shell computer security counter measure. He'll have to try and bypass it if he wishes to access the output from the scanner subsystems from where he is.
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Fi shrugs. "Is OK. Modified Standard Shuttle with Fastersky Corp S10 thrusters; personally, prefer bit faster, like Sukohama S-12, or Tortoyuba T-14 in smaller ship: sacrifice lateral stability for more go-forward-power. Shields upgraded from basic model; generator hidden, but would guess Abadarcorp - fast regeneration and good cover. Not seen computer yet, but seem to work well." "What your preferred choice of starship?
Astrianna looks away from her comm for a moment to stare at Finah. Wooooww we got a Driftjunkie over here. "Oh, I've always thought that the Ringworks Wanderers are really sexy ships. Wouldn't mind jumping in one to do some wandering of my own. The idea of exploring the galaxy, being the only sentient life for lightyears, is very romantic."
Fianh bows. "Please to meet you, Astrianna. Am Fianh. Family name Jin. Please to call me 'Fi' - Tian names tricky for Outlanders, it appear." Her face brightens at the mention of wines: "Ah, yes. Castrovellian wine much appreciated back at homeworld." No need to tell this woman that Fi has spent a lot of time in and around Castrovel (hence her facility with its languages): its exports are good quality, but the customs charges are exorbitant...
"Tian, huh?" Not that I couldn't have guessed... her accent is thicker than a Halfling meatloaf... "Well, the Sparacello's specialize in high quality berry-based wines from recipes unchanged over thousands of years. At least we think so, I mean, it's hard to tell, but Elves have the advantage of living for so long they can at least remember if something was around during their childhood or such. And our wines were around even when the oldest elves still wore swaddling. Oh, so, they're getting into meads now and it's delightful. Not that I do any of that, I'm a vlogger. Not the type to stick around home, plus Sovyrian is sooooo stuffy. The immigration laws are so strict that it's mostly elves and their children... how boring is that! We have a whole galaxy full of exciting peoples and cultures, and they just hole themselves in. Ridiculous. "Oh, but we were betrayed during the Gap" they say, but come on they don't even know who did it. Generalizing like that really doesn't help anyone. Anyway, Fi, I'm sure you would have heard of my family if they made teas instead of wines."
Astrianna's verbal vomit didn't even interrupt whatever she was doing on her comm, and she hasn't looked back over at Fi for a while. If anything, Astrianna seems to be talking at her rather than with her.
-------------------
No one else is in the bunk, and this posed a problem. Astrianna was not sitting in this room by herself for even a minute. Prospero-4, being literally attached to the Amusment Center this entire time, was easy to find given his proximity and predictability.
She sees him focusing very hard on something, and decides to take interest, looking over his shoulder at the visible light screen. "Oh my gods. Are you breaking into the system's computers?!" A beat passes. "I can help! What are you looking for?" She pulls out one of the physical keyboards that interface with the Amusement Center.
"I noticed before that this runs a copy of SysComm 67 for internal communications with the ship's mainframe, but the automatic updates are turned off! It has a huge vulnerability- if I log in from this physical location but key my access point to YOUR physical location and we both ping the same subsystem within a picosecond of each other, it will lock out the first user but give the second one some administer privileges! Ready?"
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The halfling engineer/sensor officer/every-non-pilot-crew-position-really seems to be quite busy - or at least making herself busy - most of the time. Whenever one went in the tiny shuttle, tripping over the halfling was a constant danger. Luckily she loved to talk and ask question - so one usually got a head's up!
"Why is there a four in your name? Why are you going to the Station? Are you joining the Starfinders too? Are you excited? ... Can you *really* turn your hearing subroutines off? Really? Can you read lips?"
To make matter worse Leila was well accustomed to talking to inanimate objects, usually while tinkering, so she needed no additional input to continue a conversation. Hopefully her travelling companions enjoyed chatting (*uh* ...).
"Uh-oh." Leila hurried back into the cockpit from the storage locker (somehow several bottles of strong acid had gone missing. How did that ever happen?!). At her station she quickly identified the unexpected intruder as their passenger 'Fi' whom suddenly seemed way too happy about things. The other unidentified object, the ship, would need actually need an application of the ships scanners!
"All-righty-then! I'm having a look. Let's see what it is. Any guesses? I hope it isn't a pirate or something! That would be a bother ..." Leila noted, with some nervosity creeping into her voice. She was well aware of the armaments of the ship and really hoped they wouldn't need them ...
"Oh, I've always thought that the Ringworks Wanderers are really sexy ships. Wouldn't mind jumping in one to do some wandering of my own. The idea of exploring the galaxy, being the only sentient life for lightyears, is very romantic."
Fianh briefly hides her mouth with one hand, but doesn't say anything beyond "Interesting choice." The RW shuttle lacks a Drift drive, for one thing - it's only good for in-system travel. Plus it's underpowered and undergunned, at least in Fi's estimation. As one wag put it, 'looks like a fish, steers like a fish... moves like a cow.' It does look good, though, which means it appeals to those for who appearance is everything. She'd always wondered who bought those things. Now she knows.
"Anyway, Fi, I'm sure you would have heard of my family if they made teas instead of wines."
Fi does her very best to be polite at this - unintended? - slur. "Not so much, so sorry. Tea not such valuable cargo. Better for drinking though, agreed: as pilot, best not to have much wine."
Much to Fi's annoyance, alcohol tends to go straight to her head - and her hips. Sobriety keeps her in shape and alert (well, that and the regular exercise she does). Doesn't mean she has to like it, though.
Flight combat experience? comes the irritated reply in Fian's head I am not some pirate dog fighter. I am plotting a course for the closest security waystation and will send a distress signal. The Stewards will intercept long before we would be harmed
Fianh snaps back into her trivid Tian persona as Midget-san arrives in the cockpit. She looks in blank disbelief at Bug-san, who seems to have more faith in the Stewards than a saint does in their gods.
She gives a sarcastic clap. "Great plan, keep moving on predictable course. Courteously allow hostile to intercept. Must see how it ends."
She stays on the bridge and moves to the nearest unoccupied chair, strapping herself in; but not before giving the very shortest of bows towards Bug-san (of the kind that even an emperor would think twice about before offering to the lowliest of servants - not that this kawaruhito will recognise such blatant disrespect). "If honorable lady decides she needs pilot instead of autopilot, then unworthy self happy to offer services as... 'pirate dog-fighter'."
[dice=*cough* "Culture"]1d20+8[/dice]
If there was one useful thing all those Cackie Jhan films had taught her was basic Tian customs (one of the useless things, among many others, they had taught her was to say 'I don't want any trouble!' in thick Tian accent!). So when their internal intruder started bowing Leila quickly focused on her screen again. Wouldn't want to tick her off - having someone punch a hole in the wall wasn't going to improve the situation. In an effort to disarm things she quipped loudly. "Shields are up! And countermeasures too!"
A lot of things happen at once.
Prospero-4 realizes that he is stuck in a False Shell Countermeasure, then using Astrianna's suggestion he is able to punch through the firewall protecting the shuttle's core systems. You both see that there is a fighter on an intercept course.
At the same time an incensed Kerpask stands up and shouts both vocally and in you head GET OUT OF HERE GET OUT OF HERE. As Fianh and Kerpask were arguing about appropriate strategy however the ship had closed in so right as she does so, the ship shudders slightly as its shields are lightly impacted, this is enough to send the enraged Shireen toppling over and she hits her head against a terminal and is knocked out.
Leila isn't really aware of this as she's blocking it out to concentrate on what she can detect from the Sensors.
Leila, this is a tiny, underarmored fighter, it's decently armed though. You beat by 10 so you have the following information:
Speed 10 Maneuverability Good (turn 1) Drift 0
AC 13 TL 12
HP 35 DT - CT 7
Shields basic shields 10 (forward 3, port 2, starboard 2, aft 3)
Attack (Forward) light laser cannon (2d4), light torpedo launcher (2d8)
Attack (Aft) light laser cannon (2d4)
Power Core Micron Light (50 PCU)
Then alarms start blaring. It appears there is a torpedo headed to you and has closed half the distance between the fighter and yourselves.
Fianh takes over the pilot's chair and Leila is already in charge of the engineering/science console. Oh no, there's no one in command! And no one's manning the gun!
As the alarms blare, everyone looking at a readout from the ship's computers (all of you except Keprask) can see the Okimoro took slight damage to the aft shields. Also there is a torpedo headed toward the Okimoro while the, now confirmed hostile, fighter closes in on a slightly different trajectory.
Okimoro, Interplanetary Shuttle
Speed 10; Maneuverability perfect (turn 0); Hyperspace N/A;
AC 13; TL 13
HP 35; DT —; CT 7
Shields:
Light 48/50 (forward 12, port 12, starboard 12, aft 12)
Yessss! Finally, we get to have some FUN!
Unceremoniously dumping Bug-san out the way, Fi clambers into the pilot seat, buckling up the safety harness. The feeling as the chair embraces her is such a high that it takes her a couple of seconds to readjust. Oh yes. She's missed this.
She flips off the inertial dampeners and cancels the autonav that was plotting a course for the waystation. She then presses the switch which arms the ship's weaponry. The button is stiff with disuse, almost locked into the off position, and she mutters a prayer to the Oni that the firing circuitry hasn't corroded.
Switching weapons to the 'armed' position causes the ship to go to combat stations: the emergency lighting comes on, flashing in red alert.
Fi switches on the ship's intercom, her wide grin clearly audible in her voice: "Is OK, red auspicious colour for Tian. Need gunner and engineer, report to helm please."
Ok. Time to see what this thing can do. She yanks the throttle, weaving the ship across the stars and facing the guns at the incoming torpedo.
"Leila-san! Please to lock onto torpedo, increase chance of hitting?"
"All-right-ity! Readings are coming in!" Leila announces as she manage to wrangle some informations from the scanners. Not that it was particularly hard thanks to "bug-sans" investments but still - the halfling was nervous. No-one had really shot at the thin metal shell she relied on to live before! "Looks like we are matched for speed - but maybe we can out-turn them? They don't seem to have much shield - but they got torpedoes and lasers!"
"...Let's see about those torpedoes ..." Leila winces a little as she forces herself to focus on the deadly explosives flying trough the void towards her. The sensors had no problem picking those up either. *shudder* She almost wished they hadn't, but that would probably be even worse! "I'm trying to redistribute the shields to the front - don't let them slip past!"
Prospero-4 is barely aware of all the organics talking around him, but one voice seemed to give good advice on getting through the computer's firewalls. Should he thank her? Perhaps. He'll need to run a protocol analysis on that, but right now there too much happening in near-space to concentrate on that.
"Thank you," he ends up saying, guessing instead of bothering to check up with the correct protocol. "I found also a routing into the gunnery subsystem. As I believe we are currently in combat with an unknown party, I will temporarily take control of the ships armaments."
"Locking on target. Enemy will be in range in three... two... one... Firing..."
Fianh's voice chimes over the intercom. "Good shooting, android-san! But please to also shoot torpedo?"
Astrianna is watching over Prospero's shoulder, having locked herself out of the entertainment system so he could punch through the firewall. The half-elf's eyes widen to the size of continental asteroids when Prospero interprets the sensor data to her. "WHAT?! SHELYN'S T&@&! THEY'RE FIRING MISSILES AT US?!"
She bolts out of the room, flinging the door open and nearly running into the adjacent wall in panic. Pounding down the hallway Astrianna runs into the cockpit, breathing heavily, but still somehow managing to yell at the top of her lungs. "WHAT THE F&$@ IS GOING ON? I AM NOT DYING ON THIS TIN CAN. GET ME ON THE COMM WITH THE BLACK PUDDING-LICKING PIRATE ATTACKING US RIGHT NOW."
Without waiting for any input from the rest of the crew, she stomps over to the communication console and starts punching in the communications data herself, setting up a direction laser-line communication to the attacking ship. Astrianna's face is completely red, and she spits words faster and fiercer than a drunken Vesk.
"You listen well you blundering glob of space-puke. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? Astrianna Sparacello. Daughter of BELLALUNA SPARACELLO, State Envoy of Sovyrian. By attacking me you have attacked THE MOST POWERFUL DIPLOMAT of the sovereign Elven nation, and by extension, Castrovel itself. If you kill me, my mother will ensure you are found, gutted, and strung up STILL TWITCHING from the tallest tree in El. If you don't kill me, I will find you, rip out whatever meat-hose serves as your breathing tube, surgically attach it to whatever terminates your digestive track, and laugh as you crap down your own worthless throat for the remainder of your pathetic, s@!*-eating life. SO I SUGGEST you activate your Drift Engine and fly back to whatever putrid cesspit spawned your idiotic ass."
Now *that* was something that was hard to ignore. "Actually I don't think they have a drift engine ..." Leila expends the minimum amount of air to make her note barely audible. Oh I don't think that helped ... She made sure to keep her eyes peeled on her instruments - hopefully that'd make sure no-one noticed!
Fi grins at Astrianna's flamboyant entrance - and at her volcanic display of temper. "Please to strap honourable self in." She gestures with one arm at a nearby seat, and points at its safety harness. "Evasive manoeuvres ongoing." Her eyes glint with mischief: "Would hate to bruise daughter of 'most powerful diplomat of sovereign Elven nation' by accident."
She takes her eyes off the flight-screen for long enough to glance at the beet-faced half-elf. "Also, please to not insult ship you fly in. Considered bad luck. Especially when fight."
Oh, yes. There was one more thing as well. "Please to ask opponent to identify worthless self, so Stewards correctly tag lifeless remains, after finish."
Trash-talking, Tian style.
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Unable to fire anything else the opposing ship lobs another torpedo at The Okimoro. Both of them go spinning off into the void though thanks to the ship's stalwart defenses as well as Fianh's evasive maneuvers.
The comm blares to life and a rough voice comes back You're the one we're here to get you stupid vlogging b*+@*. You'll fetch a nice ransom. Now why don't you get off that Hashtag Shameful Ship and we won't....
The voice is interrupted as Prospero-4's salvo rips through the thin aft shields of the ship and slams into it. You can see on your sensors and viewports that the tiny Fighter has suffered a decent amount of damage.
Whether it's overconfidence on Fianh's part, or sheer terror giving the foe wings, the result is the same; Fianh isn't able to keep a step ahead of the fighter this time around.
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"Trying to lock on to the engines!" If they got them out of the game they could easily run away! Yay. Even some damage might be enough to score a major advantage.
The Okimoro's advanced sensors once again gave Leila no trouble and she could easily feed targeting information into the gunnery systems. That gave her some time to think. Shameful ship? But this was the nicest ship she had ever travelled with! ...though it was the only one ... But it was still very nice! Hmph. She'd make sure to give Astrianna slightly less jam to her biscuits the next time!
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"Wo da shi me ren zhou fa lai!" Fi offers a guttural curse in her native Tian as the ship's controls don't respond as speedily as they ought to, allowing the attacking ship to get the advantage.
Her cursing rapidly subsides when the other side replies to the half-elf's taunts. Interesting... Without taking her eyes off the screens in front of her, she addresses the would-be ransom victim.
"Well, Sparacello-san, you may be wondering whether you can trust us, a bunch of people you barely even know. I can't speak for the others, of course, but personally I have a code - I don't take advantage of those who can't defend themselves. Plus, we're witnesses, so there's no incentive for them to let us live even if we did hand you over."
She grins, manically. "Anyway, I don't intend to stop the fight now - I'm having way too much fun! But you should apologize to the ship, you must have noticed that the moment you insulted it is the moment they got the advantage." There's nothing in her tone to suggest that this is a joke: she really means it.
Another grin as the computer chimes in, confirming that she has plotted the correct course. "Not enough of an advantage to escape me, though - hold on!" At her urging, the Okimoro spins on a proton, diving straight at the enemy ship.
She pulls away at the absolute last microsecond, laughing with glee as she does so. It's been an age since she felt this alive. "Prospero-4-san, fire! FIRE!"
That Tian accent? The one that was thicker than halfling meatloaf?
Gone.
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Astrianna tosses herself into the seat Fianh indicated and straps herself in, still fuming.
She is legitimately surprised by the other ship's reply, covering her mouth with a hand. "Oh my gods. Gods. They're actually here to kidnap me?!" Her voice is full of wonder, face draining from anger to a stunned expression. "This is amazing! No one has ever tried to kidnap me before!!! I've FINALLY made it big!"
The half-elf laughs to herself, and then remembers her recording equipment is turned off. "Damn! Damn! I have to catch this... I'll get SO many views." She flips open her comm and works quickly on the holographic keypad, terminating the editing program that was working on her previous video and switching to recording mode.
Without looking up she replies to Fi. "Pft, I can defend myself if I need to, but thanks. I do appreciate you piloting the ship, you're some kind of real hot shot on the helm! Can't apologize though; as an ardent worshiper of Calistria, it's my religious duty to take revenge and space these dunderpates. The Lady in the Room is definitely going to notice this!"
Looking over to their pilot she throws out a quick, nonchalant request- "Fi could you go back to using the hokey accent? I think it's hilarious and my viewers will LOVE it."
The tiara on her head starts streaming video into her comm, and they're green. " This is Songbird I'm under attack by ACTUAL KIDNAPPERS they're trying to take me for ranso- urk!" She hangs on to her seat as Fi spins the ship around, and suddenly they are headed STRAIGHT at the enemy veseel.
Astrianna cuts herself off and reflexively punches the intercom to cheer on their gunner. "Come on Prospero, if you ever wanted a chance to be a hero THIS. IS. IT!"
Being hooked into the computer, Prospero-4 can see the increase in acceleration and planned trajectory through the enemy ship’s position. For a few microseconds, he wonders what the pilot is up to. But very soon, the plan becomes clear.
He can hear both the captain and Fi encouraging him to fire, but Prospero-4 was already adjusting target acquisition protocols to match sudden change of relative speeds.
Luckily, the flak cannon is not a weapon of high accuracy, and it’s easy to paint the space with high-velocity slugs. Hundreds of these hit the little enemy fighter, and Prospero-4 hopes at least some got shields.
”Why would I want to be a hero, Captain? And I do not feel any different between now, and then.“
Fi's initial (grudging) admiration/surprise at Astrianna's lack of panic gives way to a resigned annoyance at the half-elf's reaction. She meets the impertinent request with whitened knuckles as her grip tightens on the control stick, and a terse "I'm a little busy right now."
Which she is: having 'bounced' the enemy ship and spun away from it, she's now trying to reposition for further advantage. It's an extreme manoeuvre - the safety harness leaves bruises against her skin as the forces involved threaten to throw her across the cockpit - but they end up exactly where she wants: directly in front of the enemy ship, lined up almost nose to nose.
She comms through to the android: "Get ready to fire again!"
As Fianh dives right past the enemy fighter it seems to pause in shock at the shuttle's unexpectedly brazen attack before shunting into reverse.
As it does do the flak canon rakes over the unprotected port side of the fighter and every slug that hits goes right through to the hull as the ships pass each other and all of you see sparks fly off the side of it even as it turns to speed away to a safer distance and lets fly with everything it can at The Okimoro.
The results are predictable, the laser cannon shut goes well wide as does the torpedo.
A voice crackles over the comm I'LL GUT ALL OF YOU FOR THAT and you can just make out a higher pitched voice in the background trying to say something.
Speed 10 Maneuverability Good (turn 1) Drift 0
AC 13 TL 12
HP 21/35 DT - CT 7
Shields basic shields 10 (forward 3, port 0/2, starboard 2, aft 3)
Attack (Forward) light laser cannon (2d4), light torpedo launcher (2d8)
Attack (Aft) light laser cannon (2d4)
Power Core Micron Light (50 PCU)
Systems Glitching:
Engines
Power Core
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"I am registering G-forces within the boundaries of human physiology limits. Are you sure you are licensed to pilot a spacecraft, Fiahn Jin?"
Fi grins, savagely, as the other ship backs away from her dare; losing its nerve, as well as - crucially - the initiative. She quickly calculates the next move. There's no way of positioning the Okimoro so that it's outside the enemy's fire arc; that means it's a question of bringing their own limited-range gun to bear while avoiding incoming fire.
"I am registering G-forces within the boundaries of human physiology limits. Are you sure you are licensed to pilot a spacecraft, Fiahn Jin?"
Another grin. "Depends what you mean. Am I a registered, certified, point-A-to-point-B, please-ensure-your-tray-table-is-in-the-upright-position commercial pilot? No. I'm the other sort. You know, the sort you really, REALLY want to have in the seat when the s*+* just got real. Which, you know, it has. Now hold on to your breakfasts."
She reaches for the console, re-engaging the inertial dampeners. These are a safety system, designed to provide some lateral thrust by bleeding off the main engines and stabilising the ship; they're a way of preventing novice pilots from accidentally spinning the craft out when they yank the controls too hard - and preventing the sorts of manoeuvres Fi likes to pull. But she does have a use for them, of sorts, on occasion. Next, she puts the starboard side thrusters into temporary shutdown, before accelerating - hard. The result is a surge of go-forward power from the port side thrusters only - combined with a lateral push from the port side inertial dampeners only.
It is not known which spacefaring genius (or lunatic) first pioneered this manoeuvre, which has as many origin stories among historians and theoreticians as it has names ("Crazy Ivan," "Mad Sindar," etc.) The generally accepted term is the "Corkscrew," based on the shape that it gives to the ship's movement. Veterans of space combat have another term for it, however, based on the effects that it can have on the unwary or inexperienced.
They call it the "Chunder Spiral."