As the group takes the elevator up, Grix elbows Arc and murmurs "I'd say that khrazy lady has a thing for you. Maybe when she and her goons khome to khill us next time you'll be able to khonvice her not to with a bit of the old Solarian charm?" He continues his coughing laugh all the way up to the transit hub.
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Grix keeps his claws hooked in his vest and looks up at the beautiful sight of space outside the forcefield. After the closed in confines of the lower levels it feels refreshing. He manages a relaxed wheeze and says "I likhe this Khosmonastery Arc! They have a wonderful sense for being in tune with the universe. Very free spirited!" He follows closely behind Arc, not wanting to be kicked out of the place by wandering off and getting lost somewhere.
"An audience? For us? Or for you? We should really checkh in with Chiskisk now that we have solid evidence that the Khings were behind Duravor's death. Shame Astral Ekhstrakhtions is so khanny that they khept their trackhs even out of the Khings' rekhords! Still, it seems khlear that they were part of it. And we know why too." He clicks his claws together as he recounts the evidence that the group managed to recover.
(...) sending you a copy of some comm logs and financial transactions. Together, they outline a relationship between the Kings and Astral Extractions, and that the Kings were hired to kill Duravor Kreel, though the evidence linking that to Astral Extractions is, at best, circumstantial, as it involved a series of cutouts and innuendo. But the assassination was intended to be a message to both the Hardscrabble Collective and the Starfinders to not be so curious about the Drift Rock and the ghost ship that arrived with it, the Acreon.
"Oh and, good job everyone down there! I thought we were dead for sure before you got her in a bind Arc! And Ted and Spectre, seems likhe you messed up the rest of their goons without much trouble. You remind me so much of my old khrew, tough as nails they were." Grix's voice turns even raspier with emotion at that last statement and he falls quiet as he starts thinking about the past.
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Ted plays with his newly acquired grenades in his pocket. He eyes the translucent walls suspiciously. "Any sort of explosion would really wreck this place," he thought to Grix, not knowing if the alien could hear him or not.
Ted nods at Grix's comments, "I don't know what you guys did behind that closed door, but I'm glad it worked out." Seeing Grix grow emotional, Ted continues, "What happened to your old crew? You eat them?" Ted keeps his demonstrative straight face, but inwardly he's laughing his head off.
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Arcalinte looks at Grix, an uncomfortable look on his face.
"The audience is...more for me...private, you know...feel free to make yourselves at home in the public spaces. If we need to spend the night, I'm sure I can get us a few cells to sleep in. It's a comfortable...if austere...place. Do what you need to do."
Ted's comment about Grix's old crew leaves the shirren staring at the human for a few moments of silence before he says "Dead. All of them are dead." His antennae vibrate with stress as he thinks about elaborating, but ultimately he just turns away. He stares off through the force field and fiddles with the medals attached to his vest, all his eccentric attitude and good-natured weirdness forgotten for the time being.
When Arc replies he nods, mutters something non-committal about important responsibilities, and takes a seat on a nearby table.
The student, a brawny lashunta, pauses for Arcalinte and nods, "Of course, sir." She pauses for a moment, then says, "Sola Gorsen just finished with a class. She's probably in her cell meditating."
Grix waits for Arc to return, sitting cross legged on the table, lost in thought as he stares into space. He seems to go through some kind of inner monologue for a while, his antennae taking various poses like expressive eyebrows, and eventually he sighs.
Turning, he checks who else may still be around while Arc is in his meeting "I don't thinkh Arc likhes me very much. He's very good though, very reliable seeming. Would be good to have someone likhe that on my team for the long haul. What do you all thinkh?"
The trade goods found on Table 7–35: Trade Goods are described below. Trade goods can normally be sold for their full value, subject to the GM’s discretion.
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While the student is helping Arcalinte, Spectre waits nearby. When it appears they are finishing, he says "Might I trouble you to plug into a computer terminal? I am in need of a diagnostics update."
Almost as an afterthought, he adds "Do you have any acolytes here that deal with shady underworld elements?"
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Arcalinte nods at the initiate's words before turning to Grix and giving him a hug.
"I'm sorry about your crewmates," is all he says before heading off to Sola Gorsen's cell. He knew exactly where to go,the twisting, banyan-like towers just as he remembered them. He knocks on his old master's door once, knowing he was likely in the cell's meditation chamber.
"Hello, Master. It is good to see you again, though I wish the circumstances were better."
Seated, with his mote slowly orbiting his head, the old kasatha seemed smaller than when they'd last spoken. It was almost hard for Arcalinte to imagine he'd once stared up at this warrior towering over him as a boy on Akiton.
Grix freezes up at the hug, unsure how to deal with this touchy-feely stuff himself. Once Arc makes his empathetic intentions known, Grix inclines his antennae appreciatively. "They were good. Damn good. Thanks Arc."
Rather than his later comment about Arc not liking him very much he says "Arc seems attached to his school here. He's very good though, at fighting and armed 'negotiation'. Would be good to have someone likhe that on my team for the long haul. What do you all thinkh?" He glances at Spectre and watches the droid wander off as Grix is trying to engage his input. The shirren sighs. "Very single minded, that one."
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Arcalinte patiently waits for Sola Gorsen to answer. It was just like old times, where he'd pretend to ignore his students' queries in order to display that the universe did not hand out answers readily, and only after contemplation and exploration of what lay before you could you find it. But Arcalinte wasn't a young boy pelting his master with incessant, inane questions anymore, and while they weren't quite equals yet, he'd hoped that graduation would make his master more inclined to speak to him. He frowns a bit.
The knock on the door elicits a calm and welcoming, "Enter." Simple and to the point, but affecting a warm tone. The sola is sitting cross-legged on the floor, seemingly contemplating a text in front of him though his eyes are originally closed when Arcalinte opens the door. As he opens them, Gorsen smiles in recognition and then his expression turns curious as Arcalinte's words. "Ah, so not merely a social visit. Too bad." He eyes the space on the floor in front of him, inviting you to sit, then says, "Tell me what the problem is.
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Arcalinte takes a seat, cross-legged, facing his old teacher.
"I am...lost, I think, Gorsen. My companions and I, we started a firefight with a gang of petty criminals in the lower levels of the station, and extorted money and gear from their leader when all we came for was information, as if WE were the petty criminals ourselves. And one of my companions right now is canvassing the students to see if he can establish any underworld connections with the Cosmonastery itself. I turned down the offer to stay here and join the Order because I thought I could do more to help others with the Starfinders, but now, here I am again, wondering if what I've just done makes me no better than the raiders you saved me from back on Akiton..."
The acolyte approached by Spectre looks at the 'droid in puzzled curiosity. Certainly, the galaxy had many types of robots but this one was particularly advanced. "A computer terminal? For a..." Her expression takes on a slightly guarded affect as she continues, "The terminals and network in the lounge provide basic InfoNet access, you should be able to connect through those though I'm not sure if they'll work for anything more, uh, complicated than that. As for 'underworld' contacts, I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Who owns you, exactly? Are they here? Perhaps I should speak with them."
==Back with Arcalinte==
"Ah. You are not lost. You are challenged. These are Starfinders, or ones you have associated with through the Society? There is a common misconception that the members of the Society are interested in improving the conditions of those living in the universe. Some are, but others take a more gimlet-eyed view and focus on acquiring knowledge and information regardless of method or source. They accept a diversity of... moralities, provided the Society's goals are shared.
"Is that so different from Akiton? Were all Akitonians raiders? What of the gangs and the merchants? Some joined gangs out greed and fear, others joined to survive. The merchants often had a jaded perspective when it came to resolving differences, backing coin with muscle, but didn't some of them need to do so to survive? It was less than what we consider to be ethical, but finding the right path is not always easy. And it can certainly be more challenging than in the cloisters of the cosmonastary."
He smiles and says, "Your companions may ask whatever questions they like. The answers our students give them will tell us as much as they tell them. But, your question is more personal than that... it is what you should do, yes?"
"You must satisfy the code in your own way, Soter. The answers will not always be easy and the path not always clear. If you think the fight was unnecessary and the actions of your companions were extortion, how will you make it right? If the actions were wrong, do you accomplish more by traveling with them? Can you temper their impulses? If not, do your goals suggest some flexibility is in order without compromising your own morality? I cannot make that decision for you."
He pauses a moment, then asks, "Tea?"
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Ted comes up to the acolyte that Spectre is interrogating, "Sorry for the distraction. This droid has been malfunctioning since they took him off sanitation duty. He kept dumping the bed pans on people." Ted takes a more conspiratorial tone, "I wouldn't trust him around any of your valuables neither."
"Speaking of not trusting, where did Eekz wander off to?" Ted asks Spectre.
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Spectre considers the acolyte's comments. "My owner has released me as a fully autonomous unit," the droid responds. "I have no need of supervision. My primary directives require that I operate alone."
His head swivels to Ted. "Or with other...life forms. If absolutely necessary."
As he moves toward the InfoNet terminal, he says "Remind me to dump a bed pan on you next time."
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"I believe some tea would help, yes please."
Arcalinte nods a bit, thinking on the words before responding.
"We aren't Starfinders, not yet anyway. This whole affair began because we were asked to investigate the murder of our contact, Duravor Kreel. You probably heard about it on the news? A dwarf caught in the crossfire between rival gangs at Bay 94. With the information we found, we will likely be inducted into the Society. From there I imagine we can turn the evidence in to Station security...that's probably what our contact in the Starfinders would do anyway. And for what it's worth, we didn't kill the gangsters despite their desire to kill us. Some of these guys have been through a lot, so maybe it's just that they're more jaded. At least some of them have their hearts in the right place. Sarenrae would want me to kindle those sparks into flames. At the end of the day, we showed mercy to the merciless. I let my view get too narrow. The whole reason I wanted to join the Starfinders was to see the bigger picture and work from that. Thank you, Gorsen."
He smiled a bit. That WAS his way, listening and asking the right questions, and letting the student talk themselves into the answers.
The acolyte smiles at Ted and nods before continuing on to her original destination. Playing on a nearby news terminal is a brief story on another outburst of violence in the Spike, this time at a club called the Fusion Queen, before the anchor moves back to covering the Drift Rock and the ship that appeared with it, the Acreon.
In the sola's meditation cell, Gorsen stands and goes about preparing some fresh tea for the two of them. Meanwhile, they talk about Akiton, events at the Cosmonastery, and exchange philosophical perspectives on what the Drift Rock might mean.
Eventually, each of your comm devices gives the indication of an incoming message. It's from Chiskisk. It reads: "Saw the news. No report of serious casualties. Trust you met with success. Please report at earliest opportunity."
Grix looks more than a little miffed when two of his new allies pass him by without a word. Not going to be easy to win those two over, despite how useful they'd be. How did Cap'n Fairweather manage it with all the boneheads we had? Really, the fellow had a gift, that's how. Nothing like me, that's for sure. He stretches out across the bench, clicking his claws, as he dwells on the past and his own inadequacies.
Going to be tough to recruit my own crew if this is the kind of response I get...
Grix's musings are cut short by the message to his comms. After a quick scan he connects audio comms with his three (or four) allies. "Chiskisk khalls boys and girls! Lets not kheep him waiting. We khan rest and relakhs after we chekh in." He pulls himself to his feet, takes another long and enjoyable look at the space-vista from the Cosmonastery's common areas, and then heads back to the place's entrance.
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Arcalinte notes Chiskisk's message on his comm and then Grix's follow up.
"Well, I have to go now. It's time to become a Starfinder. Thank you again, Gorsen."
He returns to the central dome and proceeds to the entrance, waving to Grix who is waiting for them there.
"I owe you an apology, Grix," he says.
"I was staring at the sun while we fought the Downside Kings, and didn't see that we were pretty even-handed with them. While we did take their money and weapons, we spared their lives. In a way, taking those weapons keeps them from using them on innocents. Not only that, but the evidence we've recovered can be turned in to Station security as well as Chiskisk. That could get at least that crazy lady and her vesk buddy arrested in conjunction with Duravor's murder. I'm sorry for the sh*tty attitude I had at the Fusion Queen."
Grix gives the returning Arc a friendly wave of a claw "No apologies needed Arc! Things workhed out for us thankhs to you bravely kheeping Ferani under khontrol after all. And I thinkh your righteous attitude and good lookhs got you a fan too! I bet you makhe all the lady half-elves in the Khosmonastery swoon!" He gives the half-elf a solid slap on the back and sniggers raspily.
"Really though, we're a team, right? Any good team needs a bit of everything. And your upstanding moral backhbone khomplements my instinkhts to ruin your enemies so they khan't do the same bakh to you!" It's clear that Grix doesn't full understand Arc's perspective, but is happy to have him regardless.
"Now where are those two slowpokhes?"
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Arcalinte smiles at Grix's kind words, though he coughs in surprise when slapped on the back.
"Well, if there WERE more lady half-elves here. Most of the students here are kasatha, which makes sense, given our traditions originated with them. While this Cosmonastery IS prestigious, the cosmonasteries of the Idari are where the BEST solarians study. Most half-elves my age tend to move to Castrovel to live among the elves. Part of me wonders if that's where my father went. He left home when I was ten, and my mother passed two years later."
He shrugs when Grix wonders where Ted and Spectre went.
"Knowing them, they started arguing again. Have you seen Eekz too?"
Grix is silent for a few moments after hearing of Arc's own loss, as he struggles to form something suitably conciliatory for the half-elf. Arc continues before he can say anything, so he instead says "They were both wandering off, getting into trouble. Last I heard Spectre beeping about underworld khontakhts." He waves as Ted rejoins them "Good! Reparations for property damage would khut into our haul!"
"I figure Eekz tookh his share of loot and split! Haven't seen those waggling ears in a while."
"There you are Spectre. We have our lovely employer to appease first! You khan get your repairs after he's satisfied. And I doubt you'll be in much danger in the center of Starfinder headkhuarters."
Group assembled, Grix heads to Chiskisk's office by way of the safest possible transportation.
After visiting, it seems unlikely the Cosmonestary is going to make lodging arrangements for you. Safe haven from the "streets" of Absalom Station, most certainly, but the rest of the facility's resources are provided only to students and the solas. And so, somewhat rested, you head back into the rest of the massive station and make your way back towards the Lorespire Complex and Chiskisk.
Upon arrival, you are promptly shown to the shirren's office where they are waiting for you with mandibles twitching in anxiety. Telepathically, they say to you, "I'm relieved to see you return, and in mostly one piece. You were not grievously injured, I hope?" They ask when they see the carbon scoring on Spectre's armor plating.
"The news reports have been remarkably vague," Chiskisk continues. "I gather there were some injuries but no deaths, and the InfoNet is chalking this up to some sort of gang war. The Kings aren't talking and, as the apparent victims, if they don't talk, Station Security likely won't have much to follow-up on. So, did you meet with success? Did you learn what happened to Duravor?"
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Arcalinte gives a small smile.
"The Kings don't need to talk. We took the information off their drives after getting their leader in a compromising position. Grix? Do you have the drive?"
Arcalinte waits for Grisk to hand him the info, which he then hands to Chiskisk.
"Take a look at what's on here. I think it'll be more than enough information on what happened to Duravor. AND more importantly, Station Security will probably want to see this information next."
Grix readily hands over the data, following Arc's comments with "We had to rough them up a bit. Nothing to worry about."
"That datastikh shows the Khings were hired to khill Duravor, poor guy. And while his pals at the Hardskhrabble Khollekhtive did their own hiring to protect him, Duravor still khouldn't khatch a breakh."
"While its not for sure, it lookhs like Astral Ekhstrakhtions was behind the hit. They've got their eyes set on that Drift Rokh and the Akhreon and didn't want the Starfinders or the Khollekhtive interfering. I bet Duravor was starting to investigate before he was going to meet us." He shakes his head in dismay "In this shirren's opinion, their plan has bakhfired. All they've managed here is to paint a big target on their heads. And a big target on that Rokh. They want to hide something about it, I suppose." Grix shrugs, not really confident that he understands how such a big corp thinks.
Grix suddenly starts vibrating his antennae "We also learned of another khritikhal tool to add to the Starfinder arsenal! You see, the 'bad girls' flockh to Arc likhe a veskh to brain snails. I'm sure we khan use this in the future."
Chiskisk accepts the datastick and holds it in one hand while they listen to your report. Grix picks up the equivalent of a bemused smile from Chiskisk at the reference to Arc's effect on 'bad girls' but the body language is probably lost on the others. He waits to see if Ted has anything to add, then says into your minds, "While this does nothing to bring back our friend, Duravor, it will hopefully bring him some justice. I'll review these files, then forward them to Station Security."
An antenna twitches as they think for a moment, then they add in a slightly more somber tone, "It depends on how much data is here, but based on what you said, I expect moving against Astral Extraction's leadership will take some time. They are powerful and moving against them will require a great deal of preparation, something better left to the authorities. I don't expect a quick resolution on that front, but this should still help with the Kings and who knows, if Desna smiles, perhaps some at the company, too. Thank you. I say that as a friend of Duravor's, but also on behalf of the Society. You risked your lives for this information. We appreciate it."
They set the datastick to the side and stand, coming around the desk to address you more personally. "In light of what you've done, I'd like to welcome each of you into the ranks of the Starfinder Society, if you wish to accept the responsibility. Should you care to remain independent, I hope you will consider continuing to work with us. You've proven yourselves capable and resourceful, and the Society is in dire need of such individuals.
"I want to think about what this means for the Acreon and the Drift Rock. I don't have another assignment for you now, but if you're willing, I'd ask that you stay on the Station for a few days while the Forumand I consider next steps."
They then mention the Society has a relationship with a hotel near the Lorespire Complex called the Moons of Sleep. It's a short walk from the parks and towers of the Eye, centrally located, and has both efficiencies and suites available. For Society members, rooms are offered at a discount: 16 credits/week for an efficiency, 50 credits/week for a two-bed suite.
Grix clasps his claws together and gives a small bow in the human style "I'll join, uh, if you'll have me." His antennae quiver awkwardly before he utters a strident "BUT I khan't guarantee that I'll always stickh around! There is a galakhxy out there to travel and khorrupt gang khargos to liberate for a good khause!" He draws back down and glances over his allies before continuing with a more subdued "I thinkh I'll stikh with these guys for now though."
When Chiskisk mentions the Acreon and Drift Rock he pipes up with "So is the Society interested in that Rokh for some reason? Seems likhe an asteroid likhe any other."
While he asks he multitasks by sending a telepathic message to Arc "Split a suite Arc? I could go for something real comfortable after today."
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I have been granted status as a Starfinder. Master will be pleased.
Spectre listens to the others accept the offer and inclines his head.
"I have worked well with these, and believe we will continue to find success for the Starfinders. We will explore every planet, report back on our findings, and cooperate in a fashion heretofore unimaged," he adds.
"Perhaps, given time, I can also teach these agents additional profitable endeavors."
Chiskisk seems pleased by your responses, even audibly chuckling a little at Ted's reaction. "Yes, well, explosions do happen from time to time, but do be sure not to destroy any Pre-Gap knowledge you come across, alright? We just had a dreadful incident where an initiate threw an incendiary grenade into a stack of books to distract some sentinels. Millenia-old knowledge, lost in a flash."
To Grix, they respond a bit more thoughtfully, "To be honest, no, we haven't paid it much mind. But if Duravor thought there was something to it, and Astral Extractions had him killed to keep us away from it... then it may very well be where we need to turn our eyes. But, please, do not go just yet. The situation is politically complicated and the Drift Rock and the ship are both under quarantine. That it arrived here without its crew is alarming, to say the least. After I confer with the Forum, I should have another task for you."
Continuing telepathically but such that you all are part of the 'conversation', they say to Arcalinte, "And thank you for the offer. I'll let security know you are available but I'll ask them to be discrete about it. We prefer the Society not be in the headlines as vigilantes, though it is accepted we occasionally encounter... less than savory characters."
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Arcalinte rolls his eyes at Ted's joke but nods at Chiskisk's words.
"Don't worry. If I'd wanted to pursue a career in vigilante justice, I'd have signed on with the Skyfire Legion or the Knights of Golarion."
He thinks for a moment and say, "If you don't mind my asking, what IS the big deal with this Rock? It seems to be casting quite the shadow over our Starfinding careers. The news that the ship that brought it here is empty is certainly scary in the way only mysteriously empty spaceships can be, but what makes the asteroid it dragged back valuable enough to kill over? Even if we don't know its secrets, there must be a reason the Collective and Astral Extractions think there are secrets to uncover in the first place."
The senior Starfinder's antenna twitch in a shirren's version of a shrug. "Beyond the material wealth some asteroids present in raw minerals, I wouldn't think it much more than the usual wagging of tongues over the circumstances of the crew's disappearance. Though... wealth by itself could be enough. I believe the ship belongs to a member of the Hardscrabble Collective, and Duravor certainly had sympathies for the group. If it put them in opposition to Astral Extractions..." Their telepathic voice trails off and there is another 'shrug' of the antenna.
"So the rokh's interesting bekhause other people thinkh it's interesting! Maybe they prospekhtekhted it and found out its pure adamantine inside!" Grix points rubs two fingers of his claw together "If one thing is for sure, it's that khorps likhe money."
"If we don't hear from you with another taskh, maybe I'll takhe a little trip over there to see for myself, mmm?" Grix tries to catch the eyes of his allies, checking to see how enticed they are by unknown riches.
With Chiskisk satisfied, Grix waves farewell and heads off to find that hotel.
Chiskisk looks somewhat alarmed by Grix's eagerness to explore the rock but tries to hide it behind the shirren equivalent of a chuckle. It sounds like breaking glass. "Yes, well, the rock is under quarantine, as is the ship, so perhaps we let Station Security and the Council consider this before charging in, yes?"
You finish up with Chiskisk and have time to go about your errands and check in to the hotel. That evening, a hotel employee knocks at the door and hands each of you an identical slip of paper, which he says was delivered by a messenger perhaps twenty minutes ago.
It is an invitation, printed on paper as black as the void of space, requesting your company for a meeting with His Excellency Gevalarsk Nor, the Ambassador of Eox. The invitation is for 10am tomorrow morning at the Eoxian embassy in the Parkside neighborhood of the Eye.
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Arcalinte nods at Chiskisk's words.
"Thank you, Chiskisk. It will be an honor and pleasure to work with you."
As they leave, Arcalinte catches up to Grix and taps him on the shoulder.
"By the way, yes, I'd be fine with splitting a suite with you. Despite me being a spiritual person, solarians don't need to be ascetics," he says with a smirk.
Once they're settled in to the hotel, Arcalinte informs Grix he'll be stepping out to make a purchase. He looks up places to purchase weaponry on his comm, and travels to the closest one to buy a longsword. While he had the tactical pike and his trusty starknife which had made all the difference in the fight with the Kings, he felt that if he wanted to make himself a shining example to other Starfinders, maybe even a heroic one, nothing communicated nobility and leadership quite like a sword.
He returns just in time to receive the mysterious invitation. He beeps the others on their comms to see if they've received similar invitations and invites them to convene for a meeting in his and Grix's suite.
Even cloistered as he'd been at the Cosmonastery, he'd heard of the strange, disconcerting tale of Eox and its people, and he'd occasional mentions of Ambassador Nor on PWR, so he was at least familiar with who the man was.
"We've only just become official Starfinders and already a planetary ambassador wants to speak with us," he says to Grix. "This has to be about the Drift Rock. The only noteworthy stuff we've done, Starfinder or no, has been tied to whatever's going on with that thing. You can tell the invitation was sent by an undead. No matter what their temperament, they love being dark and ominous."
Grix makes a detour to purchase an additional serum of healing to replace his diminished supply. He meets back up with Arc at the hotel in time to receive the old-fashioned slip of paper.
"Another person interested in the drift rokh? Maybe this guy wants to hire us? We DID put on a good show with the Khings, good enough that it got on the station newsfeed." Grix shrugs "Those elebrians are khreepy though. All wrinkled up, and I hear they never sleep. Have you seen that vid-stream run by Zo!? That guy's been presenting day and night for years. It's just not right... though at least that guy isn't so much darkh and ominous as he is weird."
"Either way, I'm hoping Mister Nor has something lukhrative to offer us."