Grix nods at Burlap "Good. Better I don't have to bring you bakh from Pharasma's door again." He wiggles his antennae in Burlap's direction "I was wondering, why'd you shoot those guys bakh at the dokhing bay anyway? Lookhed likh they were khilling each other well without us."
|
Arcalinte sips the tea he ordered as he listens to the others share their "dirty secrets." He frowns a little, knowing he was going to sound really boring by comparison.
"You aren't going to be surprised that I haven't made many enemies. Rivals, maybe, but I doubt they'll interfere. They have chosen other paths, whether to continue with the Cosmonastery as a teacher, go on pilgrimage to the Idari or perhaps join a church."
He samples some of the deep-fried grubs and noodles before him, pausing to take in the taste and nods.
"Very good. Anyway, as far as my homeworld, I was too young to have any real "enemies" at the time I left. We had raider troubles, like many small towns far away from the big cities. The last group that attempted such an attack was beaten by my master, Sola Gorsen Anax Calanice, who first brought me here to Absalom Station shortly afterwards."
He continues his meal as the conversation continues.
"You know Spectre, you can download an anthropology textbook off the infosphere so our little socio-cultural quirks aren't as confusing," he comments.
"I was wondering, why'd you shoot those guys bakh at the dokhing bay anyway? Lookhed likh they were khilling each other well without us."
Can a rat grin? "I shot them because I didn't have any grenades." He scratches his ear then answers the question more seriously. "Maybe they wouldn't have shot us. And maybe they were only distracted by each other for a little bit and then we were on the list right after Duravor. I don't believe in coincidence. And in the army they told us that, in a firefight, the guy without an active weapon is a casualty... I was hoping that if we could roll those bastards up fast enough, maybe we could save Duravor."
Grix nods slowly, then shrugs "Duravor was slagged right away, we probably khouldn't have saved him. But I likh your optimism!"
To Arc's comments, Grix says "Not having enemies lookhing for you is great! I've had khomrades that left a little too much spilled blood in their past. It khaught up to them." He stares wistfully off into the distance "They usually didn't even get a proper send off. Bad lukh on their families, to skhip a drift funeral."
|
|
”Hey now, the galaxy could USE a little more optimism sometimes,” Arcalinte retorts.
”That’s kind of what drew me to the Starfinders in the first place. A lifetime of meditation and enlightenment is bliss, so they say, but to share this with the people is a greater gift. I always felt like while I could teach students at the Cosmonastery, what I learned from the Starfinders would be even greater to share, shining hope into the darkness of ignorance and...cruelty and stuff..being a torchbearer...am I making sense? I was never as much of a poet as Sola Gorsen.”
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Eekz nods at Grix's words.... "Optimism good... they fixes your eyes. Enemies bad. Me think make enemies when talk to kings. They bad news."
He listens to Arcalinte and tilts his oversized head to one side... After hearing all he has to say, he narrows his eyes in deep thought. Finally a grin stretches across his face. "You Lightbringer! Good longshanks spread shiny hope!"
The Ysoki raises a wiry brow at Soter. "So... you're sayin' you were living in enlightened blissdom and now you've decided to slum it with us ignorant bastids to serve as a shining example that might lift us up from our lowly lives." He summarizes and wipes his muzzle on a napkin. "Is that about the size of it?" He asks mildly, curious if he's understood what was said correctly.
|
|
Arcalinte blinks in surprise at Burlap’s words.
”Well, not literally word-for-word. I didn’t mean to imply any of you were ignorant, or that I’ve mastered the Cycle! I only meant that if you’ve got power, you’ve got a responsibility to use that power for good, and Solarians have a LOT of power! And all the knowledge in the galaxy is useless if it’s just sitting in your head and dies with you, and the Starfinders have the right idea to share it with everyone. I didn’t want to just ensconce myself in the Cosmonastery, contemplating the universe when all I know of it is this Station and a single planet. Not even the whole planet, just one small region of it! My powers are best used for fighting, as you saw at the docking bay, but what good are they if I don’t USE them to make the galaxy a better place?” he says, clearly embarrassed.
Burlap pours himself another beer and says with some embarrassment, "I was busy getting shot up to see all that happened on the other side of the bay. Did see Ted there put a great shot into one fella who was causing me considerable grief. And Grix here saved my burning ass." The ysoki clunks his plastic cup against theirs in thanks. "I've been called worse than 'ignorant'. And ignorance isn't an insult, is it? It just means you lack knowledge. That's true of everybody, one way or another. And some of the old philosophers would say that knowing where you're ignorant is the beginning of real wisdom. Now, willful ignorance that's a whole other matter. That's choosing to stay stupid."
|
|
"I've been called worse than 'ignorant'. And ignorance isn't an insult, is it? It just means you lack knowledge. That's true of everybody, one way or another. And some of the old philosophers would say that knowing where you're ignorant is the beginning of real wisdom. Now, willful ignorance that's a whole other matter. That's choosing to stay stupid."
Arcalinte breathes a sigh of relief at Burlap’s reassurance.
”There’s a lot of truth in that, Burlap. I know it’s true of me. There’s only so much about being a Solarian and understanding the Cycle that the Cosmonastery could actually teach me. The rest, I have to discover for myself. Lots of Ibrans among the teachers there come to think of it. I suppose one reason I didn’t fit in there as well was because I became a Sarenite.”
He sips his tea.
”So...what worlds do you all call home? Like I said before, I grew up on Akiton, but have lived here on Absalom Station for the past few years.”
"Me born here on station! come back to join finders of stars. We go talk to 21s now?" Eekz finishes his meal, lifts the plate and licks it clean, then takes a bite out of it, casually munching the crunchy and inedible bits as he heads for the door.
"Me want adventure... see new things. do new things." Eekz shrugs swallows his mouthful of plate bits. "Me come back... me smarter... know many things now."
Grix cocks his head at the philosophy exchanged between Burlap and Arc. "You two are pretty deep thinkhers! Didn't expekht that from you after... earlier." He grins and stands up to stretch his limbs "Nothing wrong with that. One of my old khrewmates always said 'the better you understand yourself, the better you understand the stars'."
Grix pops a series of joints in processession as he says "I've khalled open space my home for a long time already. Not my first time to the Station, but I might be staying a bit longer this time." With a glance at Eekz's energetic plate eating "Lookhs like we should get going before we buy ourselves some trouble! The Level 21 Khrew is our first stop, right?"
Grix chitters to himself "Would 'Sorry for khilling one of your goons' help breakh the ice? Hmmmmm"
"You two are pretty deep thinkhers! Didn't expekht that from you after... earlier."
The rat casually replaces the spent rounds from his clip as he explains. "Soldiering leaves a lot of time for reading." Especially for me. "Let's go pay our respects. We can underline that we were mostly shooting at the Kings."
EAC:14 KAC:15
RP (4): xxx
Clip (6):
Total Bullets Used: xx
Effects:
You settle up with the waitress -- she winks at Burlap and says, "Good luck, honey!" -- and begin making your way down to the eponymous 21st level of the Spike. The portion of Absolom Station is a machine-cramped warren of access tunnels and passageways into which the poorest of the residents have somehow also managed to sandwich in their homes and places of business.
In the background, you can hear the station's heavy machinery -- life support, gravity generators, defense systems, and who knows what else -- churning away in a constant thrum that seems to resonate inside your skulls. How anyone lives and works, much less sleeps, down here is a mystery.
Graffiti covers many of the available surfaces here, some of it having actual artistic merit and forming beautiful murals that work on multiple wavelengths of light that only beings with darkvision could fully appreciate. Meanwhile the denizens move around you almost without noticing you, though Arcalinte and Spectre get a few curious stares.
"I thinkh we are in the right place... very khozy." Grix scratches at the graffiti on the wall with one claw "The 21 Khrew signed the walls here. Zetta nice, eh? They have someone with a good hand with a spray."
He traces a sign with the tip of his fingers and mutters "Besmara protekht me from knives in the darkh and let me find the booty I seekh." Once he's done he puts the hand on Eekz's shoulder and asks "How about those friends of yours? Either that or we go around khausing trouble until they grab us."
|
|
"There's a better way, Grix," Arcalinte says.
"We drop word that we're looking to talk to the Crew, maybe include a few credits to smooth things over, and let them come to us. This is their house, so we want to show them we'll play by their rules."
He takes the lead, hoping the rumor mill will do most of the work for them.
Eekz tries to make contact with some of his old friends in the station underworld, and in so doing get an intro to the 21 Crew.
Arcalinte and Eekz spend the next four hours working their contacts and approaching people in conversation about the Level 21 Crew. They are eventually directed to a bodega called Mama Fats, owned and operated by a halfling of the same name. She looks at you as you enter her store with a suspicious gaze. "Yer not from down here, not most of you, at least... What you want?"
"Me wuz from here. Left and back. Me Eekz! Look for 21 Crew for friendly talk. They here?"
Grix peers around at the products and offer, and then wiggles his antenna in the halfling's direction "We've been hearing that you know a lot around here. That you might know how to find them, so we khan talkh to them. We have some khuestions and some khredits to makhe it worth their time."
The halfling eyes Eekz curiously, a hand she had kept below the counter slowly coming back to rest on top with her other. "Manners? From a goblin? Well, I'll be pickled."
To the both of you, "Everyone here knows of the Crew... It is the 21st deck of the station, after all. But wanting to meet with them. Well... lad... lady... host... Sorry, you shirren confuse me..." She blushes slightly; it seems sincere. "Um, anyway... I can't promise you anything, but if you want to leave a message, and if maybe someone with the crew stops in, I can see they know you'd like to talk. Keep your credits, though. If you meet with them, you'll need 'em then."
|
|
The halfling eyes Eekz curiously, a hand she had kept below the counter slowly coming back to rest on top with her other. "Manners? From a goblin? Well, I'll be pickled."
To the both of you, "Everyone here knows of the Crew... It is the 21st deck of the station, after all. But wanting to meet with them. Well... lad... lady... host... Sorry, you shirren confuse me..." She blushes slightly; it seems sincere. "Um, anyway... I can't promise you anything, but if you want to leave a message, and if maybe someone with the crew stops in, I can see they know you'd like to talk. Keep your credits, though. If you meet with them, you'll need 'em then."
Arcalinte nods.
”Thank you. We appreciate the advice, as well.”
"Yes, me want leave message. They leave answer with you... or they find us?"
She nods slightly at Arcalinte as if to suggest it's nothing, then replies to Eekz, "Leave your comm ID. They'll reach out to you if they want."
Eekz gives his own comm ID as well... orders a drink. "We leaving? Already? Me not had drink yet!" He sounds disappointed.
"Your khomms Eekz?" Grix fiddles at one of his antennae as he mulls the idea over "I guess that'll be fine. You'll knokh them out with your charm and eloquence when they khall. Keheh!" He waggles his antennae at Arc "If they don't likhe Eekz, this one here is the bakhup, Mama! Tell them to khontakht him."
He turns to Mama and gives a small bow "Lad is fine... I've answered to worse before. But Grix is the name."
Moma gets a can of some local brew and slides it over to the goblin. Looking at the can (if he’s literate) he can see it’s called “Firebreather Ale”. Apparently it’s spiced with something called ‘habanero’. She grins at the goblin waiting for his reaction as she replies to the others, ”The Kings are... another gang. Not from here, but I guess they’re trying to expand. Why you asking, human?”
|
|
Arcalinte gives Mama Fats a “Seriously?” look as he places a bottle of chilled tea on the counter and offers his credstick.
”They’re part of the reason we’re looking to talk to the Crew. We understand they’ve had some scrapes with the Kings lately, and frankly, the Crew’s reputation is better than theirs, which is why we came looking for the Crew first.”
The halfling grins at Arc's glance, swipes a credit off his stick and tosses it back to him. "I wouldn't know anything about that, ears. I just keep my head down. Thankfully, I'm short, so it doesn't require a lot of effort."
She chuckles a bit at her own joke, then a couple of men step in through the front door. Humans, dressed similarly to some of the crew from Docking Bay 94. A moment after that, a back door opens and a couple more step through, this time a human and a vesk.
Moma's laugh trails off though she doesn't look alarmed. She just looks at the front of her store, then the back, taking in the "new arrivals", before she shrugs and says back to Arc and Grix. "Looks like you got your meeting early, fellas."
|
|
Arcalinte catches his credstick and then cracks open the bottle and takes a sip as he notices the gang members arriving.
Cutting off our exits. Smart. They want to make sure we can’t slip away from them in case this gets bloody. Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that, he thinks to himself, though he’s sure Grix can “hear” him.
He raises his hands to show they’re empty apart from the bottle of tea.
”Good afternoon!” he says with a warm smile, hoping to establish friendly terms right off.
Grix eyes the newcomers, trying spot what kinds of weapons they're carrying. After a moment's hesitation, he gives the group coming in through the front door a curt wave of greeting, but otherwise keeps silent to let Arc take the lead.
He sends thoughts to Arc and Eekz, the designated talkers 'Ready, you two? Raise the last of your fingers in the air if you need me to step in. I have a couple of tricks to deal with one or two of them if we need to escape.'
Eekz hops off his stool and walks boldly up to whoever looks most likely to be in charge... or least likely to be in charge if none of them do. "Hi! Me Eekz. Was chief of The Invisibles for long time. Me want talk to your chief."
Mama Fats chuckles at Spectre. "Oh no, hun. That was for this." From beneath the counter, she pulls out an azimuth laser pistol and drops it on the counter with a thud. "These lads just showed up on their own."
When Arcalinte and Eekz ask questions of the four gang members, the vesk says in a voice like rocks grinding against one another, "It's as friendly as you want it to be. You want a meeting with the 'chief'... come on back, but leave your weapons with Mama."
Each of the gang members appear to be armed with a club and a sidearm.
Eekz walks back to the bar, reaches up high and leaves puts his laser pistol and club on the bar in front of Mama. "You takes good care for me, yes?" He walks toward the gang members confidently. He keeps his survival knife, not even considering it much of a weapon, and more of a utility tool.
|
Spectre watches Mama Fats with an impassive face, as always.
"I find that hard to believe, especially since you appear to be holding the weapons in the event of a meeting."
His head swivels toward Arcalinte.
"And what do you mean, 'treachery is a strong word?' I use the most appropriate word under all circumstances. My vocabulary consists of many hundreds of thousands of words and phrases."
Mama grins, ”If he starts going on about ‘meatbags’, you may need to recycle him. Anyway, it’s called a camera, hun. Besides, ‘Treachery’ suggests I owed you some degree of loyalty.” The grin slips as she glances towards the vesk and then the men at the front door. ”I don’t, and neither do they. So, your weapons. Please.”
She takes Eekz’s with a wink. ”Thanks, Chief. Enjoy the beer.”