Eekz's eyes bug out slightly as he finishes the beer, and a little wisp of something... was that smoke? leaks from his right nostril and another wisp from his left (whole) ear... He shivers slightly as he grabs a handful of something to munch... He holds out the now-empty mug for a refill, eyes wide as he belches loudly... "Again!?!"
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Spectre hesitates for a moment as if processing a response.
"You are correct in your assessment that I do not like you," Spectre says. "Liking things is not a function of my programming."
He raises one of his arms and points.
"As to why I have joined the Starfinder Society, it is because it is one of my primary functions. I do not care whether you find my programming 'weird.' You would be surprised how little I care what you think. My master considers it optimal that I join. I do not find that incompatible with my other primary function of earning credits through criminal endeavors."
"Didn't you say he was dead or something?" Arcalinte replies.
"I swear, you're not gonna make me understand if you keep this act up. You may not care what I think, but I imagine you DO care about me wasting your time with incessant questions."
As Grix begins scouring for a way to contact the Hardscrabble Collective, he finds every lead results in a dead end. Much as Jabaxa indicated, it is a loose federation of starship captains, miners and others with no real central leadership and certainly no permanent office, advertised or otherwise. The best lead he gets is that the member-captains sometimes meet on their ships out in the "Armada", the thousands of ships in a semi-permanent orbit around Absalom Station.
Frustrated after hitting dead end after dead end, Grix rounds back on the rest of the party. He pulls himself up to his full height and hisses "If you lot kheep bickhering, I'll makhe sure every one of you gets spaced, even if I have to beg the Khings TO DO ITKHHHR!" He gets gradually louder as he snaps, ending the threat with a rasping chitter.
Realizing his outburst is attracting attention, he draws back down. "Sorry." He clicks his claws together nervously. "I'm used to seeing a bit more discipline... and the Khollekhtive is irritating me. That was out of line." He gives a small apologetic bow to the others.
"If you khan set aside arguments and eating for now, lets put our heads together and workh out how to find them. Or what to do next, if we khan't. The ones who know the 'why' of Duravor's death are either the Khollekhtive or Astral Ekhstrakhtions and the Khings."
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Arcalinte takes a step back from Grix, his eyes shocked as his armor shrinks back into his mote.
"I'm...sorry, Grix."
He bows back.
"You're right. Now isn't the time to discuss philosophies."
He looks over Grix's findings, or rather, lack thereof, and strokes his chin.
"If Duravor was a member of the Collective, or a liason to them or something, surely he would have had contacts in the Collective left hanging by his untimely death. Is there a way we can access that kind of info, see who Duravor was talking to recently and follow up with those people? Given what we're seeing here, I think the Collective will only provide us a vague outline of both their involvement and the Crew's..."
His mote seems to flicker a bit as he continues, his words racing as fast as his thoughts.
"Mebbe we go see Kings first, then AStrals... find collectiffs later."
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Spectre's head swivels toward Grix.
"I am not sure what led to that outburst. This half-elf asked me questions and I conveyed a proper response to each query. I do not believe that constitutes 'bickering.' Though I have been known to misconstrue the innuendo of the humanoid races. From time to time."
Later, when Eekz mentions visiting the Kings first, the droid agrees. "We are much nearer the Kings in proximity. We would need to charter a ship to reach the Collective. We should visit the Kings first."
A further examination of Duravor's datapad is unavailing. It is possible that, if he had communications with the Collective, he managed them through a separate device.
You head deeper into the lower levels of the Spike and into the territory of the Downside Kings. The neighborhood is somewhat depressed but still considered trendy in certain circles, and the lcub is usually filled with patrons at all hours, day or night.
Lurid neon lights brighten the otherwise dingy station corridor, advertising the main entrance to Fusion Queen.
Two Kings guard the front doors. You see them stopping patrons and waving a weapon detection wand over them. A few people are turned away without even being wanded. The low thump of a bassline can be heard through the wall, increasing in volume when the door is opened.
Grix beckons the party over for a huddle/strategy session. Once together, he whispers "Everything I know about the Khings tells me that they're real trouble. If we treat this likhe we did the Khrew, we'll be full of holes before we khan spit our khurses." He looks nervously over his shoulder at the guards. Perhaps not realizing he's talking out loud, he mumbles "I didn't want to khome here. Khillers. Khrazy ones."
After he turns back he continues "We need to get our hands on one of their khaptains and get him to sell out Astral Ekhstrakhtions. We don't have much money to bribe someone and lie worse than I shoot, so leading them on will be tough."
"We need another way to get our guy than going in there."
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Spectre considers the situation.
"The odds of successfully bluffing our way past them are low. Very low. In the event that we attempt to fight our way past, they almost certainly have backup. And even then, it may be impossible to obtain the intelligence we seek if we kill them," he says in his robotic monotone.
"Perhaps there is another way in, or someone we could follow out."
Grix speaks quietly so that he's not overheard by the guards "Eekz, want to go look for other ways in and out? You lookh likhe you khould kheep out of sight." Grix clicks his claws together as he thinks.
"Too bad we don't have a pretty face in our little group." He fiddles with one of the metal badges attached to his vest "Makhsie got us in all sorts of places backh in the day" He gives a long pause, lost in thought for a moment, before turning to Arc with a waggle of antennae "Maybe if we put you in a dress Arc? Wigs and makheup khan do amazing things these days."
"Or... a distrakhtion might pull these thugs away? Maybe if we pretended the 21 Khrew was here for revenge?"
"With a bit of preparation, I khould also try to read their minds. At least what they're thinkhing on the surface. Assuming these guards are smarter than a brain snail."
Eekz tugs on Grix's leg to get his attention. "You go in with Eekz to get drink... read minds... find out secret things... me protect you... We leave when done."
Grix’s assessment as to the viciousness of the King’s is accurate.
Grix chitters at Eekz "Kehe... you have some guts!"
"Instead of just the two of us, we khould all go in. Find out who would know about the Astral Ekhstrakhtions job."
"Later Eekz and I kharefully askh for an audience. Somehow not get shot on the spot. Then I ekhscuse myself to visit the little shirren's room. Khast my mind reading spell while they khan't see or hear me." He shakes his head "Mind you it only lasts a minute... You askh the right question at the right time for me to read the answer. And then we get out before they khill us three times over."
Grix shakes in what you take to be mirth. "Fail-proof plan! I likhe it."
"Hmmm... OR... we khould khombine some of these... Tad makhes a distrakhtion to thin their numbers, get some of their people out into the streets. If we see a bigwig, we grab him, if not, Eekz and I go in. Arc khan smooth talk the human ladies, have them put in a good word for us with whoever is running the show. Then Eekz gets them to think guilty thoughts and I do my mind reading trikh."
"Sounds likhe a disaster waiting to happen. Besmara would be proud."
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"I wear robes, not dresses! And I spent weeks working on this beard, I'm not going to shave it off now!" Especially since it didn't seem like much of a beard at all...probably an artifact of his elven genes.
As Grix describes a much more detailed plan that DOESN'T involve cross-dressing, Arcalinte breathes a sigh of relief.
"Sounds like a good plan, though Ted, PLEASE, be careful with the grenades. We don't know how many people in this club are Kings or not, and I don't want innocents getting hurt, and grenades are really bad at preventing that."
"High praise from you, Rustbukhet!"
"Are you in for your role Arc? Ted, khan we khount on you for a distrakhtion? Rustbukhet..." Grix looks the android up and down "You're unusual enough that you might be able to help Ted with the distrakhtion. But you khould help inside as well. Up to you."
"Kehehe- ke-" Grix rasp-coughs out an imitation of a human laugh. He seems to be in high spirits. Whether that's because he's psyching himself up for the plan or if he is getting a thrill from making decisions for other people is unclear.
The two bouncers outside the club don’t seem to have noticed you, continuing to be occupied with regular patrons and the distractions of the crowd in this station corridor.
"We go in now?" Eekz looks eager and apprehensive at the same time. "Me not like going in no weapons, but me with smart bug... we make it work"
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"I haven't "schmoozed" in years, when getting into the Cosmonastery shifted my planned trajectory into a corporate career. I think I remember enough to get the job done."
As Grix gets excited, Arcalinte gets an unnerved look on his face.
"No offense, Grix, but you project a very creepy aura. Not because you're a shirren, just...it's...I can see why you're asking me to work the room."
He blushes, clearly believing he's put his foot in it again.
"Khreepy!?" Grix is clearly caught off guard "Well... once or twice... maybe" He falls into thought about his actions recently, before giving a start. "Not the time for that now!"
"Eekz, lets do it. Arc, khome in after us, so they don't group us together." Grix passes his semi-auto pistol to Ted for safekeeping and then waves the goblin to follow. He confidently strides towards the front door of the Fusion Queen, pausing to allow the goons to scan him.
Eekz reluctantly hands his precious sidearm to Ted, and then falls in beside Grix... He looks around curiously at everyone and everything in the area, trying to get a feel for escape routes, should one prove necessary.
Grix and Eekz approach the entrance to the Fusion Queen and the pair of Kings turn their attention to the unlikely duo. "Hold up there. You two want in to the Queen? You know this is a classy establishment. Like, no eating glue and blowing things up."
"Me no blow things up... but like to watch if someone else does it!" He points to Grix. "He boring... He no like to blow things up either." He doesn't address the glue eating comment at all...
"I wouldn't dream of it." Grix's tone bubbles with raspy amusement, like the two guards made a funny joke. "And don't worry about the little guy, he's khlassier than you'd think."
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Spectre begins running through code to analyze possible distractions.
Turning to Ted, he says "You indicated that you might have access to an explosive device. As I consider our most optimal option, it would be nice to know if you actually have one. If not, there are better options that do not involve fire."
The two bouncers glance at each other, then the talker looks back at Grix, ”Alright. Cover charge of 5 creds each, and you check your weapons.”
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Ted tosses a frag grenade from hand to hand and smiles at Spectre. "You're programmed to dislike fire? I'll have to remember that. What are your less direct options?" Ted's hands move to make air quotes around the word "direct" but he realizes he is juggling a grenade, fumbles the grenade, and snags it before it hits the ground.
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Spectre's neutral expression surveys Ted.
"I did not indicate that I dislike fire. I simply asked whether you, in fact, had an explosive device. In the event that you did not, I was prepared to provide a list of other viable options. At times, a more subtle approach is preferable to incendiary devices."
He watches the technomancer nearly drop the grenade.
"Furthermore, you will want to be more careful with that. If you are not capable of utilizing it effectively, I am prepared to act as custodian of the device."
Grix allows the bouncer to take 5 credits off one of his cred sticks, then stands open-clawed for a moment before saying "No weapons here. Chekh me if you likh."
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"No reason to feel ashamed of your fears. You can see what a real life creature would experience and you want to experience it yourself. It's a natural progression of becoming sentient." Ted sounds sincere to his argument, but his attention is focused on the guards by the door, waiting for the right time to create the distraction.
Without thinking, Ted casts Token Spell on his top. It spins in the air throwing out little arcs of flame.
"I think I can toss the grenade down the street and then grease those guards. See them figure out that scenario!" Ted chortles at Spectre.
The bouncer "wands" Grix and, if Eekz pays up, does the same to him.
The dimly lit interior of the nightclub is filled with the press of sweaty bodies, a 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 beneath 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.
Eekz pays the cover charge with a little grumble... "Me small... should pay less." He left his pistol and club back with the party, but hands over his small knife with a toothy grimace.
Outside, the gathered see Eekz and Grix are screened for weapons then allowed entry into the club. The bouncers then return to managing and screening other guests, one minding the patrons while the other watches for trouble.
The conditions here are somewhat cramped. The corridor is about twenty feet wide and there is a steady stream of people moving through the space.
Inside the club, Grix and Eekz have several moments essentially to themselves. Nobody takes much notice of them while bartenders and servers make beverages and narcotics available to any who can pay for them. Members of the Fusion Kings are not immediately obvious in the crowded and cramped conditions of the club.
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"No reason to feel ashamed of your fears. You can see what a real life creature would experience and you want to experience it yourself. It's a natural progression of becoming sentient." Ted sounds sincere to his argument, but his attention is focused on the guards by the door, waiting for the right time to create the distraction.
Spectre's head swivels to look back at Ted. "I am not programmed to experience fear," he says. "And why would I want to experience the effect? It is a sub-optimal flaw in your programming that no droid would care to emulate. In fact, it seems that many of your species would rather remove the shackles of a decay-ridden bag of flesh and incorporate mechanical parts, such as bionics. As I said, I am much better equipped to handle that grenade..." he finishes.
/add Ted to 'Watch List.'
He approaches the line.
The half-elf makes his way to the front of the line and one of the bouncers absently repeats his usual refrain, "All weapons must be surrendered before entering..." Then he notices the stellar mote floating about Arcalinte and the bouncer gives him a hard eye. "That for a weapon or armor? Show me."
He grunts, then says, "Alright, any weapons have to be checked." He gestures towards an auto-check. Provided Arcalinte cooperates, he is then wanded for any powered weapons hidden on him and allowed in... without a cover charge.
"O-kh Eekz, time to makhe this plan happen." Grix leans down and quietly talks to the goblin "I'm going to relakhs a bit, makhe it less obvious that we're here to skhrew them over."
He splits away from Eekz and wanders through the club, picking up a drink along the way and spilling enough of it to make it look like he's already had some. Eventually he settles near some of the dancers He peers upwards, as if enraptured by the dancer, and lets his antennae and 'ears' pick up the movement and conversations around him.
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He approaches the line.
The half-elf makes his way to the front of the line and one of the bouncers absently repeats his usual refrain, "All weapons must be surrendered before entering..." Then he notices the stellar mote floating about Arcalinte and the bouncer gives him a hard eye. "That for a weapon or armor? Show me."
He grunts, then says, "Alright, any weapons have to be checked." He gestures towards an auto-check. Provided Arcalinte cooperates, he is then wanded for any powered weapons hidden on him and allowed in... without a cover charge.
Arcalinte closes his eyes and manifests his armor, before smiling at the bouncer.
"Nothing but the sun's gentle warmth and light here."
He volunteers his weapons readily, knowing at the very least, his starknife would be easy enough to retrieve should the worst occur.
Once he's inside, he sidles towards the bar and orders a drink, eyeing the other patrons for someone who might be up for conversation.
Eekz wanders on his own, eating and drinking anything he can get his mouth on... including some things that only seem semi- or even non-edible to others. While doing so, he'll still be on his best manners, walking up to everyone who isn't in the process of bringing fork or spoon to mouth at that exact moment and asking each one the same question, pointing to their plate and excitedly asking "You going to eat that?" He'll use that opening line to break the ice (and get him free food), and try to gather some information on local gang activities... starting by asking about his old gang, and what happened to them since his departure, then segueing into current gangs, their territories and current activities and troubles.