Blacklock recalls that the Stewards are an order of individuals who vow to protect the galaxy and maintain peace and justice throughout.
Breaker shakes his head. "We need to avoid drawing the attention of Station Security. Possibly having another confrontation in Level 21 territory after we were just involved in a previous one with them might cause them to view us with suspicion. At best, they tell us to stay out of their way and threaten to arrest us if we intervene in the investigation. Let's head to the Fusion Queen, and try to lose the tail while we go."
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"Huh, ya think that guys interested in us, huh? I wouldn't be able to tell if ya didn't point 'em out. We probably should lose 'em, right?"
Boris pounds his thick finger on his data pad a few times. "I'm looking up the train times. If we time it right, we could hop onto one of the trains without the tail and then make a transfer at the next stop. It'd be hard for them to figure out exactly where we'd be going unless they already knew. I just gotta figure out what the best route would be to take."
Boris easily gathers the information he needs to lose the hooded figure. The trio weaves in and out of people at the busy train stations, getting on the exact train the mechanic chose headed down to level 13 in the Spike.
Level 13 is unusually crowded when they arrive and they find out through overhearing conversations that the declining level 13 is home to some underground hot spots, a playground for wealthier station residents who want to keep their illicit desires out of the eye of the people "up top."
Loud music and a variety of conversations in various intergalatic dialects add to the bustling atmosphere, an oddity for such a low end neighborhood. Many storage warehouses line the street, but not far from the terminal entrance, the trio can see the soft violet glow of the Fusion Queen accompanied by the almost unbearably loud music and conversation. Substances flow freely and can be had for a price as well as numerous android "pleasure bots."
There are two guards dressed in dark clothing and similar to the DK members that you saw at Bay 94. They are currently pre-occupied with a confused shirren wearing a dark red hooded cloak.
Gryggax approaches the guard on the right side of the entrance to the Fusion Queen and asks for help. ”Pardon me ma’am, but I am looking for my friends, have you seen them? One is a dwarf, a blonde-haired halfling, an android man with dark hair and a lushuntan movie starlet, can you help me?”
Gryggax deliberately leaves out the description of Blacklock, so he will remain off of the guards’ radar.
The guards look at each other in confusion. Anyone who is supposed to be on this level usually knows exactly where they are going. The shirren however, seems to be believable for some reason, so the guard in front of Gryggax responds, ”Look, we haven’t seen anyone. Now clear away from here and let us do our job,” she explains with a hint of hostility.
The female guard is puzzled a second as Blacklock refers to her as a “boy.” To her, Blacklock does possess the sort of mystery that an acquaintance of Nadaz would have. ”You can enter, after I search you for weapons. Sorry, strict orders,” the guard replies. She looks at you anxiously awaiting for you to comply. ”Spread out your arms and legs,” she demands.
The guard on the other side of the door continues to be distracted by the odd shirren.
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"Rules are rules I guess." Boris grunts at the guard. "I ain't giving 'em to you though."
Boris opens up a hatch on Digdig and dumps his weapons inside. "Alright, Digdig, you be a good boy now. If anyone tries to get those weapons from ya, make them pry 'em out of you cold, dead manipulator arms. Daddy will be back soon."
With them losing their hooded tail, Alpha-83 nods in concurrence. "Well done. That should keep whoever it is from following us further."
I wonder who this Shirren is? Alpha-83 thinks. Whoever this was, if they were Chiskisk's person, they'd have to find a way to get him in.
"Shirren, is there something you need?" he asked.
Upon evidence of weapons and the gathering of a small group, the guards react to the situation with violence.
Before Gryggax could answer Breaker, the guard in front of him grabs her club and takes a hard swing at the shirren, somehow missing the blow entirely.
Stunned by the boldness of Boris and worried by the wrath of her boss, the other guard moves inside and draws a pistol on Boris, yelling. "Stop Dwarf!"
Blacklock
Buzzsaw
Breaker
Gryggax
DK gangers
Gryggax takes a guarded step back five feet before motioning with his hand subtly. One of the chitinous fingers move suddenly and a small empty and broken vial flies into the guard.
Alpha-83 is quite puzzled by the guards sudden reactions - had they not seen Boris complying with their request of no weapons. Alpha-83 stepped back from the guard he'd been next to and pulled out his pistol, then fired a shot at the one who'd stepped into the club.
The ganger by Digdig steps to her right and draws her pulsecaster. Reeling from her injuries, especially the starknife's gash, she prepares to retaliate in anger.
The ganger on the other side, by Blacklock, shoots her pulsecaster at Breaker, missing to his left as the beam fizzles across the street into the warehouse wall.
Certain that the newcomers could handle the wounded guard, Gryggax swiftly moves around Breaker before stopping short and raising his webbed fingers pointing them at the guard to his left with intense focus.
The demeanor of the guard to the left of the door suddenly changes from angry and alert to nonchalant and slightly confused. She keeps her pistol raised and maintains combat stance, but other than that seems disinterested.
The foot traffic outside of the discreetly located club has diminished somewhat, but the noise from the music and patrons inside the club drown out your altercation out front thus far.
Alpha-83 once again points his pistol at the guard and unloads it into her.
Frustrated by how long it is taking to dispatch these weak guards, Boris draws his Doshko and charges the guard while bringing down the weapon upon her ending the threat of at least one guard.
"That's that then." he adds sarcastically.
Unconcerned by the demise of her colleague, the remaining guard just stairs at the rest of you, even with shoulder smoldering a bit from Breaker's attacks.
Gryggax again raises his bug digits and summons any piece of debris from the street towrads the remaining guard. A discarded and empty can of tuna flies into the side of the guard's head leaving a significant cut.
Boris steps over the fallen guard and hurriedly charges the remaining guard to finish this business. His furious swing misses the confused guard and slams into the metal wall of the club.
A look of frustration and disgust appears on Boris's face.
Breaker points his gun at the remaining guard and again pulls the trigger, sending another bullet towards her.
With a loud Snap!, Breaker’s bullet downs the last weakened guard, just before she prepares to call for backup. Surprisingly, the quick fight aroused no suspicion nearby. Both guard’s lifeless bodies adorn the unguarded entrance to the club. A sign above reads “No Weapons permitted on Premises” in makeshift graffiti. The club itself is some kind of seedy, but trendy hotspot.
The dimly lit interior of the nightclub is filled with the press of sweaty bodies, the haze of narcotic smoke, and the pounding beat and ululating vocals of Bakarang music blaring from the main stage in the northeast corner of the room. A sinuous bar winds around the northwest corner, offering a variety of drinks and drugs for purchase. Booths line the south wall of the club, facing the main stage in the northeast corner and the crowded dance floor below it. Gyrating dancers stand atop four smaller stages scattered around the club: one behind the bar, one in the center of the room, and two flanking the main stage. Wide double doors marked “Staff Only” exit the room to the west.
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Boris wipes the blood off his beard and steps over the corpses of the dead guards. After checking to make sure they're not going to get up and move again and collecting anything useful off them, Boris heads into the club. He moves over to the bar with Digdig and scans the room full of patrons, a scowl of disapproval on his face.
Can't imagine any honest dwarf would hang out in a place like this; let alone a decent woman. I wonder when I'll get a chance to drink in a good ole' fashioned beerhall again, with a red cheeked dwarf girl on me arm...sigh.
Gryggax turns to the others with a somewhat surprised look and clicks his compound eyes as they blink.
"Hello, I am Gryggax...at least that is who I believe that I am. Chiskisk sent me here to help you in your investigation. Is anyone injured?" Gryggax inquires. He looks around as if lost and then at the guards personal comms. "Should we take them or destroy them?" He asks.
Upon entering the club, Gryggax stands in amazement at all of the wild colors and sounds that seem to distract him. It is as if he is seeing an environment like this for the first time.
Alpha-83 joins Blacklock and Boris in patting down the guards, taking one of their pulsecasters. "We should take the comms - they may prove useful. I am Alpha-83. If you require a more human-sounding name, you may call me 'Breaker.' We should enter the club now."
Once inside the club, he finds the loud music and flashing lights and bodies everywhere rather irrelevant, looking about for Nadaz or Hatchbuster.
"Hello Alpha 83, I am pleased to make your acquaintance," the nervous shirren replies to Breaker.
"Hello Boris," Gryggax gives a kind,respectful nod toward him/ The cordial greeting is unexpected. "Yes, I was sent here to help by Chiskisk and Starfinder. He explained to me that this would be my first assignment as a recruit. I most certainly will try to prove meself worthy and remain alive, thank you!"
Gryggax proceeds into the club hiding his club and rifle the best that he can under his dark red cloak.
Despite their best efforts, it is hard to discern any DK gangers amongst the throngs of morally loose patrons and goings on. A few cocktail waitresses are visible as well as two bartenders behind the bar. Aside from them, the room to the west, marked “staff only” is the only other possible avenue to provide clues to the new Starfinders.
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Boris will show the credsticks to his companions, then put them in his pocket, along with the pulsecaster and comm units that they looted off those guards.
"Well, none of these degenerates out here look like they're anyone worth talkin' too. Probably too hopped up to even know where they're at right now." Boris shakes his head in stern, Dwarven disapproval. "Unless somebody's got a better idea, I say we walk through them staff doors and see if we can find something."
Alpha-83 says to Boris, "If you'd like, I can check those sticks now. We may want to use them to buy some good will."
Inside, Alpha-83 looks about, then points at the wait staff and bartenders. "It's possible they may have information - if we head through the staff doors, it may cause several alerts."
Surprised by the willingness of the dwarf to make a connection with an oft-maligned race, or from what he can remember anyway, Gryggax's reaches out his waxy, chitinous hand to grasps the dwarf's in a sign of friendship.
Gryggax scopes out the place, bewildered by the enormous activity. He notices his team make their way towards the staff doors and follows suit trying not to be conspicuous.
Boris checks his wrist computer quickly shifting his eyes around to see if anyone is paying attention, and plugs in the credsticks to learn that both are worth 150 creds each.
No one seems to notice the newly entering clients yet, not even the wait staff. Perhaps it has something to do with the hypnotic music and the haze of narcotic smoke.
Breaker reaches out and grabs Blacklock's arm as he goes to enter the Staff only doors. "Before walking in like we own the place, we should try to do this diplomatically. We need a confession from the boss, and we can't beat it out of her. Perhaps we can pass a message we desire a meeting through the bartenders."