Dead Suns AP by GM Cellion (Inactive)

Game Master GM Cellion

Arcalinte presses forward towards the nearest foe, swinging his bright blade!

Move Action: 5 squares north, Standard Action: Attack West #1 with Solar Weapon

Solar Weapon Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12; Solar Weapon Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Grix sees the ysoki soldier go down in a fiery blaze of... well, not quite glory, but it was impressive... so he runs over and prepares to offer aid. Eeks and Ted move to take cover, wholly unsure of what in the Drift is happening around them, while Arc and Spectre widen the scope of combat and begin to attack the gang members to the west. The android's blast is devastating, burning a hole right through the gang member's chest, while Arc lands a respectable blow with his solar weapon against the farthest of the gangsters.

On the east side, the badly wounded gang members continues his retreat and flees down the side corridor from which he and his buddies emerged. Themselves injured in the last exchange, the decide discretion is the better part of valor and follow suit, fleeing down the corridor.

On the west side, the one in the middle (#2) yells, "The robot just shot Jarz!" while the other yells, "I got other things to worry about!" They reposition while firing at their respective quarries. Both shots strike their targets!

#1 uses his move action to take a Guarded Step; no AoO. Spectre takes 4 points; Arc takes 5 points. Both are fire damage if it makes any difference. East side has fled off the map.

Grix retrieves a healing serum from his pack, uncorks it, and depresses the syringe to inject it into the dying ysoki. He gives the little guy an energetic slap in the arm where he was injected to get the serum flowing.

Healing serum mk1: 1d8 ⇒ 2 Hey, good thing you extinguished yourself!

As he rouses Burlap, he responds to Ted's comment with a "What's going on is a battle, ya brikh! Don't start waving your pistol about and then get surprised when they start shooting bakh!"

Burlap lurches into consciousness with a thrashing of limbs, a tail twitch, and a gasp of pain. "Whadafack?" He grasps his rifle and glances around quickly, trying to orient himself. He spies the used syringe in Grix's claw and gives the Shirren a furry thumbs-up. "I owe ya."

With surprising speed, the War-Rat rolls to his feet then slinks cautiously toward the battle.

MOVE: Grab Rifle
SWIFT: Stand (Moxie makes it a Swift action)
MOVE: Stealth move on Map

Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Ted counts down for courage, "3... 2... 1..." and rises up and fires at the remaining gangsters.

Grinning at Grix's astuteness, Ted shouts back, "Should we try to take one of them alive?"

Tactical pistol at West #2: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (15) - 2 = 13 for damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2P
applied -4 for range

Arcalinte cries out in pain at being shot, but then grits his teeth and glares at the man.

”That’s right, you’ve got plenty to worry about. And if you want to live to see another dawn, you’ll follow your friend’s example and run!”

Intimidate: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Damage sustained.

Spectre turns his longarm on another of the gangsters.

"Failure to surrender will result in your termination," he says as he moves toward the enemy to the northwest.

double move

The last two gansters, with Spectre and Arcalinte coming towards them and Ted beginning to send laser fire in their directions, decide to flee down the "northwest" corridor.

If he wants to take it, Arcalinte will get an AoO against the gangster adjacent to him, as the man is trying to retreat.

As the laser blasts and gunfire subsides, you notice the sound of alarms blaring and sirens approaching. Within moments station security has arrived from both directions and cordons off the area. Witnesses are questioned and, after a few moments, officers pull each of you out of the crowd to speak with a commander.

The kasatha studies a datapad for a moment before looking up at you and grumbling, "So... it's not entirely clear... depending on who we ask, the lot of you are either a third gang, or saviors of the station. You came off the Okimoro, right? So, why are you here? Who are you? And why do I have a gun fight in the middle of my docking bay!?"

Feel free to describe intervening actions (maybe looting that corpse?) but assume you are spotted by security and rounded up with the others.

EEkz runs over to the fallen contact and quick searches him for anything of importance he might have been carrying, like any documents relating to WHY he was meeting us here. He quick tucks anything important looking inside his clothing and tries to look innocent.

With the last combatants retreating, Burlap hustles over to the downed gang member. He pops the man's weapon and additional clips into his cheek pouch. He pockets any credit chips and memorizes any personal ID he finds but tucks it back into the corpse's pcket.

When the security arrives, the ysoki marches right up to them to answer questions. He straightens out his uniform and presents his military ID, repeating the basics.

"Corporal Burlap - retired - 85th Regiment of the Sixth Battalion. Yes, we just arrived on the Okimoro. I was here to meet that fella with the hole in his throat. He's from the Starfinder Society. We were barely down the gangway when bolts and bullets started flying in all directions and that poor fella got caught in the middle of the two groups. I'm a combat vet... when bullets fly in my direction, I shoot back."

Grix pulls himself to his feet, brushes moon dust and powdered UPB from his clothes, and watches the remaining gang members retreat while gnashing his mandibles.

"Sure, now they run. HOW ABOUT GIVING US OUR KHONTACT BAKH YOU SKHUM?" He yells at their retreating backs. Wimps all of them. None that would last a moment on my ship, once I'm a khaptain.

He stalks on over to Duravor, and is the middle of checking the dwarf's wounds when the security forces arrive. He lets Burlap say his part, then follows it up with "Bit slow weren't you? We khould have died out here in the khross fire if this... brave... khombat trained ysoki wasn't armed to the teeth and ready for akhtion. Duravor here was not so lukhy."

Grix will check if Duravor is somehow still alive despite his wound.

"Whoever these idiots were that started this mess have a lot to answer for. Any idea who we can blame, officers?"

Arcalinte lets go and the blade shrinks back into the mote, returning to its orbit near his head, before wearily turning back to the others. He staggers over, nursing his burns.

"I am Arcalinte Soter, student of the Cosmonastery of the Empty Orbit. I was returning to Absalom Station aboard the Okimoro along with this group, hoping to join up with the Starfinder Society. Duravor was our contact with them, and he was shot just as we'd stepped off the ship, like Burlap said. I am uncertain as to whether he was merely collateral damage or the target these gangers sought."

Ted doesn't know quite who to trust. Without sides to choose, the odds were he would get tangled up with the wrong side. His main focus is to get to the StarFinder Society.

He answers the authorities' questions and then asks, "Where can I find the Starfinder Society?"

The police commander glares at the goblin suspiciously while the others talk, eventually looking up to acknowledge their explanations... if he doesn't quite believe them. Grix's suggestions of incompetence simply roll off his back; he's heard it all before, many, many, many... many times. And like cops everywhere, the competence was always inversely proportionate to the challenge faced. Nonetheless...

"Well, we reviewed the camera logs. It doesn't look like you started it... that's something. My officers will collect your information and we'll be in touch if we have any follow-up questions. You all can go," he says to the tall folks and Burlap.

It quickly becomes clear he is not including Eekz in the instruction as he barks at some officers while gesturing with a pair of arms towards the goblin, "Take that thing to the nearest airlock and space it; don't need them infesting the station any more than they already do."

"Wait! Me going to finders of stars too!" He runs over to the rest of the party, hides behind Arcalinte. "NO space I!"

"What he says is true. He's with us," Arcalinte replies matter-of-factly.

The kasatha stares in shock for a moment at the goblin when it speaks coherent Common and then again at the solarian when he vouches for the cockroach. "You... He... What?"

He looks back at the goblin. "You... a Starfinder? Show me your papers."

After the commander inspects whatever form of invitation and introduction to Duravor he had received, the commander just shakes his head before practically throwing the materials back at Eeks with a baffled shake of the head.

"Fine, go... But make any trouble, start any fires, trigger any explosions, and its deep space without a helmet for you."

==Flashback==
Before being corralled by security, you find Duravor is indeed quite dead from a laser bolt through the throat. On him, you found a personal computer. Without needing to hack it, you find the name and a description of each of you, as well as one additional name, "Chiskisk", and an address here on the station. On the body of the slain gangmember, you find an azimuth laser pistol with 19 charges, a club, and a credstick worth 150 credits.

Repeating Ted's question, Burlap pipes up, "Commander, do you know where the Starfinder Society is? They are going to want to know about their man's death."

The kasathan commander is already walking away when he says over his shoulder, "Corporal, do I look like an AI information kiosk to you?"

The kasatha stares in shock for a moment at the goblin when it speaks coherent Common and then again at the solarian when he vouches for the cockroach. "You... He... What?"

He looks back at the goblin. "You... a Starfinder? Show me your papers."

After the commander inspects whatever form of invitation and introduction to Duravor he had received, the commander just shakes his head before practically throwing the materials back at Eeks with a baffled shake of the head.

"Fine, go... But make any trouble, start any fires, trigger any explosions, and its deep space without a helmet for you."

"With all due respect, sir, if Eekz had planned on doing any of those things he'd have done them on the Okimoro long before we got here. I think he deserves a little more credit than that."

Afterwards, he looks down at the space goblin cowering behind him.

"You okay, little guy?"

Grix waves goodbye to the commander and mutters "Good riddance info khioskh." He thinks about what he knows of the Starfinder Society headquarters on Absalom Station.

Culture: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

As the security forces leave, he turns to the other people gathered and says "So you're all trying to join the Starfinder Society too? If you are, we are going to the same place." He bares his incisors in a toothy, if unnerving, grin. "I don't know where it is. But we khan find out from an info khioskh around the station. I also pikhed up this." He shows the group Duravor's datapad. "Seems he had some info on this 'Chiskisk'. Maybe his boss or partner. We khould stop by and let them know that Duravor vac'd out."

Burlap recites the regs in his head...

600/50: Interactions with Indigenous Personnel during Foreign Deployments

Indigenous personnel shall not be treated to defaming, derogatory, or demeaning comments by Pact personnel during the course of a posting on a foreign world. Pact military personnel are required to display appropriate respect for all local authorities and foster a respectful relationship with all indigenes, under appropriate penalties in accordance with the Universal Code of Military Justice (UCMJ).

With that in mind, Burlap decides to not answer the Kasathan's question about his appearance. He was fairly certain the Commander wouldn't appreciate being unfavorably compared to a pale macrocephalic spider or that Burlap had heard Kasathans needed all the extra arms for the prodigious amount of self-pleasuring in which they engaged.

"Thank you, Commander." He rests the long rifle on his shoulder and marches over to stand next to Grix.

"Me? Me no start fires... me no make splody boom-boom... " Eekz says with a glint in his eyes, while still standing half behind Arcalinte... Then he responds to Grix: "We find Finders of Stars now!?"

So, I can't recall who went to check his body, but do recall that on Duravor's body you found a computer with some information. You might also be able to hack into the computer for more information still. And... you can always do a take 20 on a computers check to pull up basic information (like directions).

Ted takes a stab at unlocking the knowledge of the computer, "Let me see what I can do with that thing."

computers: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Spectre's head swivels from side to side as he considers the assembled humanoids.

"Greetings. I am S-P37 'Spectre,' and I overheard your discussion regarding the society known as the Starfinders. My master has tasked me with assisting the Starfinders. Perhaps you might be of some use, after all."

He watches Ted begin working on the computer.

"Perhaps I might have a try. Hacking into computers is one of my primary functions."

computers: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22

Arcalinte quirks an eyebrow at Spectre.

"Master? I hope that's in the sense of "teacher" and not "owner." It's 317! Androids have had independence and Pact Worlds citizenship for 163 years!"

Spectre's head swivels toward Arcalinte.

"You would be surprised how little I care what you think." the android says matter-of-factly. "My programming is such that I care little for such relative virtues as independence or citizenship."

Arcalinte shrugs.

"So you don't care...that's your prerogative. But at least have a little care for yourself. You're a person, not an object, and that's an objective truth."

"Your opinion has been noted," Spectre responds.

"Though when you say 'person,' I am certain you mean a robot with a humanoid appearance."

BTW, nothing personal, Arcalinte! I'm just a big jerk! I wanted to be a jerk to Ted first!

Oh, I know! This is fun! XD

Arcalinte tosses Spectre a smirk.

"You know, for someone who doesn't care what I think, you seem interested in my opinion of your personhood..."

"I find that response vain and highly unlikely," Spectre responds.

Eekz looks between ARcalinte and Soter, blinks slowly a couple of times...

"Me be citizen too! Longshanks never care about gobbo feelings... This one duz... and you no want it? You silly manchine."

Spectre considers Eekz's words for a few seconds.

"Perhaps they do not care for your feelings because of the predisposition of your race to burn everything in sight. Or to steal. Or it could be the illiteracy. Though if my analysis is correct, it is most likely the wide, ungainly head."

"We can probably continue this discussion later, maybe over drinks. Right now, let's find this Chiskisk. It seems they're who we'll want to talk to if we want to become true Starfinders."

"It's just a non-intelligent robot. Why get its hopes up? It will just let you down when you need it most."

Arcalinte blinks in shock at Ted's words.

"Okay, it was charming when Spectre was talking about himself, but when you say it, it just sounds racist. Would you say the same stuff to an anacite? They're arguably more machine than Spectre is, and they're people too."

Spectre's head swivels toward Ted, who had mostly escaped his gaze thus far.

"Your foolish comment and generally belligerent attitude has been noted. My creators did not see fit to program me to utilize obscene gestures so that I might let you know how I feel about you."

Grix chitters at the exchange between Arc and Spectre, with a grin he turns to the android and says "Oh I likhe you, rustbucket! They programmed some fire into you, that's for sure. I thinkh we'll be able to workh together just fine."

"Arkh, you're not going to get through to them with explanations. Maybe talkh to their master if you have a problem. And as for drinkhs, I have a story about bound androids to share once we have time, kehkeh."

Arcalinte sighs.

"Do you really have to call the guy "Rustbucket," Grix? Maybe ask him if he wants to be called that first?"

Spectre considers Eekz's words for a few seconds.

"Perhaps they do not care for your feelings because of the predisposition of your race to burn everything in sight. Or to steal. Or it could be the illiteracy. Though if my analysis is correct, it is most likely the wide, ungainly head."

"Me assemble that remark! Fire be pretty. Me no steal! Me reappropriate! Me gots good big head! Good for thinking good big thoughts! Me not illiterate! Me can read scritchings. You big idiot, manchine. No. That not right word. Big ot! You big ot!"

The ysoki silently watches the exchange. "So, what do you wanna be called: S-P37, P37, Spectre, or something else?"

Argh! My post got eaten. Okay. Short version coming at you. Apologies

A hacking of Duravor's datapad reveals information hinting at sympathies with an organization called the Hardscrabble Collective, which appears to be some sort of miners' collective or co-op. Culture or Profession Miner check may reveal more

Spectre turns toward Grix.

"'Working together' is not one of my primary functions. However, I care not what people call me. I have been called many things by different criminal elements, none of which are of concern to me. Please note that I currently do not have any rust, and all my parts are fully operational."

Responding to Burlap, he says "I respond to any of those."

And for some reason, 'Hey Siri.'

Grix chitters "You're going to want workhing together to be a sekhondary or tertiary function then, rustbuckhet. What, do you thinkh the Starfinders send androids on solo missions? They actually want their agents to stay alive, most of the time."

He waves a claw at Arcalinte "See, they're fine with it! Don't get your mote in a tangle!"

Culture: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9 Whelp, no good

On the datapad, did Duravor have sympathies with this Hardscrabble Collective, or is this related to Chiskisk?

On the datapad, did Duravor have sympathies with this Hardscrabble Collective, or is this related to Chiskisk?

The Hardscrabble Collective association is with Duravor. Chiskisk's name and address is in the unsecured section along with your names and descriptions.

Ted finds arguing with someone's machine code not worth his time. He instead focuses on the living, "I don't know much about Anacites, but I'm sure they're nice."

profession mining: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Yesterday, when the server went down, I had gotten an 18... so sad.

Spectre finishes contemplating the data found on the computer.

"My analysis suggests we might find another Starfinder contact by pursuing this 'Hardscrabble Collective' lead. I, for one, intend to initiate contact."

"Well well, the name Hardskhrabble Khollekhtive brings to mind some politikhal group. I don't think it has too much to do with the Starfinder Society, though its members may want to know that Duravor is dead."

"Should we go to find Chiskhiskh first? Or report to Starfinder headquarters? Or find this Khollekhtive?" Based on the intonations in Grix's voice, he's far more interested in meeting Chiskisk than the other two options.

"Wherever we go," Burlap offers, "We should move as a team... in case this attack wasn't a coincidence."