.
. .
--==--
Dear recruit,
Thank you for your interest in joining the Starfinder Society – we are very excited to receive your application, and would like to take the opportunity to have one of our agents meet with you and further determine those skills and aptitudes that you would bring to the Society.
A shuttle named the Okimoro has been chartered for your convenience to convey you to Absalom Station where you will meet our representative, Mister Duravor Kreel. A copy of your dossier will be provided to Mr Kreel prior to your meeting.
We look forward to meeting you.
Warm regards,
Sorina Vae’mushana
SFS Field Resources Officer
--==--
The Okimoro was as smooth a rode as one could hope for in a small passenger shuttle and at least the passenger accommodations – more a dormitory with solid partitions bolted between the beds - were clean, if basely furnished. The communal mess hall was comfortable, and the few recreation facilities on board were serviceable for passing away the time as the shuttle flew through space, finally on its way from Castrovel to Absalom Station.
As the shuttle exits the jungle planet’s atmosphere and settles into a steady cruising speed, the intercom clicks into life with a sharp staticky hiss and the voice of the pilot – a reclusive man who has stayed sealed in the cockpit and forequarters of the ship for most of the time – echoed through the public areas of the ship.
”Gentlemen, thank you for your patience today. We have now exited Castrovel’s atmosphere and you should feel free to make use of the public areas of the Okimoro. You will find anywhere that is not permitted for passengers will be securely locked. I have plotted our final course, and we should be experiencing smooth flying between here and Absalom Station, and arrive in two and a half days as expected. I hope that you enjoy this final leg of your flight.”
One of the ones (perhaps the only one) who climbed aboard at the Castrovel station is a Lashunta man of an athletic build. He's wearing a Microcord suit underneath a halfway-zipped pilot's jumpsuit. He came onto the ship light, carrying only a few personal possessions. His antenna and tan skin are contrasted by his hair, which he has dyed into a rainbow pattern of neon colors.
When the captain gives his announcement, others can see him mouth the words as if he had already heard them a dozen times.
"So..." he says aloud once the captain's announcement ends. "I'm Herald. Herald Navus. Pilot, adventurer, and overall awesome guy. Are you all going to join the Starfinders with me?" He gives an easy smile and slouches comfortably into one of the seats.
Having traveled from one of Bretheda's moons to the planet of Castrovel (with possible stops along the way), there sat a lanky, insectoid creature. He was wearing one of his favorite uniforms to try to make a good impression on the Starfinder Society group, he hoped it wasn't too casual, but it would show that he was loose, but hopefully not too loose. He was very nervous and excited at the same time. His main body was mostly bluish-green, though if one payed close enough attention, they'd see that he was wearing thin armor underneath his clothing. The clothing itself consisted of a shirt with Desna's holy symbol on it, his own deity that he had chosen to follow. It also had a pair of thick pants, which was met with a pair of boots. Finally, there was an overcoat on top of it, which was more stylish than functional.
He chose not to pay much attention to the fearful/hateful looks that the Lashuntas that were in the station. At this point, he was used to it, and he couldn't outright blame them, he had heard stories of the Swarm that the Shirrens came from.
After the departure and subsequent announcement of the captain, one of the other passengers, a Lashunta spoke up and introduced himself.
The shirren froze in place for a second, though to him it felt like an eternity. How was he going to introduce himself? Should he do it formally? It would kind of clash with his style that he wanted to go for, but at the same time it could show that he was also a more serious type too. Or should he go for a more informal style which this Lashunta himself seems to have gone for. They aren't at the Starfinder Society quite yet. After mulling it over, he eventually decided on the latter, oh sweet decisions, thy nectar is so satisfying.
Although there did appear to be sound coming from the Shirren, his mandibles didn't actually move. Instead he was speaking telepathically to the group. "Pleased to meet you. I am Valorus K'thars. I'm more of a um...technomancer guy than a pilot. But I hope that the differences in our fields won't clash too much."
For someone who had never so much as stepped onto an actual planet before, getting to visit Castrovel was a real treat for Darshe. The fauna and flora were all so colorfully gorgeous, the architecture of their cities was breathtaking, and the people there were, well, also gorgeous. The young asteroid miner (former asteroid miner, mind you) had heard stories about the lashunta people's exquisite beauty, but none of them had done the reality any justice. It was enough to make him a little uncomfortable, and his sightseeing more than a tad awkward.
A part of Darshe wanted to stay on the planet for a while longer, to take in more of its exotic sights. But that paled in comparison to the excitement he felt when he received the e-com he had been waiting for since he first put in his application back on Absalom Station. It was not quite an official invitation to the Starfinder Society; even better, it was a chance to prove that he deserved to be a member. He'd certainly return to Castrovel one day... after visiting a few dozen other planets.
Darshe boards the shuttle wearing a loose, grey hooded jacket and some dark pants, with a pair of boots ideal for hiking uneven terrain. He had grown used to wearing heavy armor, but having it on him during a routine transit flight seemed like a bit much; it would be fine in his cargo for the time being. When he sees the others on board the shuttle he pauses, waves a hand in greeting (hoping that it isn't some horribly offensive gesture in their respective cultures), and then falls into a seat.
"Uh, the name's Darshe. Just Darshe," he starts lamely, trying not to stare at the lashunta or the shirren, for two very different reasons. He wrinkles his brow, trying to think of his word to sum his vocation, anything to distance himself from "former asteroid miner". "A Starfinder. Yeah, that's what I'm gonna be."
The Kasatha listened attentively to the introductions of the three vastly different aliens. Krevlor wore robes, though those who were paying attention would see he wore Kasatha Microcord beneath it, on his hip was a pistol and resting nearby was a staff. He would have to learn more about his potential companions... or were they meant to be competitors?
The connection at Castrovel had given him time to catch up on some reading but he was running out of stimulating literature and data to peruse. Not that he would have been opposed to conversation, he could learn about their people and cultures and he could enlighten them regarding the Kasatha.
The black eyes of the four armed, grey skinned humanoid, looked at the group appraisingly before speaking in a level voice. "Greetinsgs Herald Navus, Valorus K'thars and Darhse. My full name is Krevlor Nswath of the D’Ethwok Clan descended from the Great House Pilea. However the full name is not required in most circumstances, it would be acceptable and perhaps more convenient to simply call me Krevlor. I am a scholar and a student of Talavet. I too seek to become a member of the Starfinder Society to further my own understanding of the universe."
"Of particular interest to me currently are the fields of anthropology, folklore, theology, xenobiology and archaeology but I am well versed in other academic areas as well. I am a skilled pilot or too technologically inclined but I am a certified medic in addition to be skilled at mystical healing."
Herald brightens as people socially interact with him. "Ah, sweet! Valorus, Darshe, and Krevlor... Looks like you're all gonna be my partners." he gives Darshe a wink as he catches a sidelong stare. "So we've got a beefy young man like you, a technomancer, and mystic. This is just perfect! No, I don't think anyone will be stepping on each other's toes."
Looking at Krevlor, he smiles. "I spent two years being tutored on a Kasatha home ship. I learned a lot." he scratched the back of his head. "She was a very kind lady, taking a punk like me in and teaching me how to use my energy for something more constructive."
A lanky, tawny-colored Ysoki steps out of the shower quarters. He is holding a black towel around his waist with his conspicuously metal left arm. He seems not to mind or notice his state of undress as he addresses the gathered passengers in the adjoining common room. "Howdy folks! Name's Cree en Absalom. I'm finally heading home after some unsavory business."
He holds up his free hand as he walks over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. "Give me just one second, yeah?" He lifts the lid, retrieving a pair of undergarments, and removes the towel to step into them. Afterward, the small Ratfolk retrieves what looks like an old, wooden pipe, and sticks it into his mouth. He totters over to the nearest seat, next to Herald, and slides into it. "Now then. I didn't hear y'all coming in over the sound of my shower - I take'em kinda long, just to piss the captain off. I did hear that you're all going to become Starfinders. If that's true, it seems like you could use a computer geek. Perhaps a charming, clever, one-armed Ysoki with a pile of gambling debts and a desperate need to turn his life around?" He winks, a wry smile on his face as he addresses the group.
Valorus turns towards the Ysoki and replies, {"It sounds like you and I will be working together then. I also work with computers."} There is some audible joy through his voice..well thought-voice. Perhaps this will help Valorus connect with the Ysoki?
"It's good to meet you a-" Darshe pauses when the (naked?) rat-person nonchalantly walks out of the bathroom. His eyes are immediately drawn to the ysoki's artificial arm which, unlike his own, was about as conspicuous as a prosthesis could be, short of slapping a laser onto it. He pinches the bridge of his nose, not much liking the first impression he was giving his fellow potential Starfinders. "You all," he finishes, his voice coming out nasally.
Take it easy, Darshe. You're not gonna be a very impressive Starfinder if you get culture shocked into paralysis every time you see a new face. The only human passenger on the ship lets out a heavy sigh; with that off his chest, he seems much more relaxed.
"Sounds like you've all got a lot of expertise. I'm not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little intimidated here," he admits, leaning back in his seat. His eyes briefly flick back in Herald's direction. "I just have a smattering of engineering and science here and there. But I suppose my specialty is demolition, if you want a technical term for it."
"Demolition? Oh like the Rock Jockeys in the Diaspora!" he says, giving Darshe a winning smile. "Seems like we have a well-rounded group of people joining the Starfinders. I do hope they assign us to the same team!"
Valorus cocked his head. "{Intimidated? I don't understand. Out of everyone here you look like you could easily beat everyone here in a fight quite handily from the looks of things. Not to mention, I'm not much of a fighter, myself. I'm more of an...explorer if you will.}"
Inclining his head towards Navus "I am not surprised there is much to learn whether an individuals lifespan is measured in years, decades or centuries, I am glad to hear you availed of the opportunity."
"I would anticipate that the Starfinder Society requires individuals with a broad base of skills and abilities. Both those of a martial inclination as well as those scholarly, covert, technical and academic skills can all contribute in different ways." It's clear from how he holds himself and addresses the group Krevlor is quite comfortable speaking infront of others.
Cree chuckles as the rest of the group discusses their talents. "I get the feeling we could all go on about what we do all day, but it's not gonna make a lick of difference unless we can back it up when the time comes. So, instead of wagging our tongues, who wants to play a game?" The small man produces a deck of cards from within his forearm, grinning.
{"I wouldn't mind a game actually."} Valorus broadcasted. {"I warn you, however. I'm good at solitaire."}
"Solitaire? Never heard of it. Akitonian hold 'em... now that's a card game." he replies.
"Argalian Synergy is quite calming and immersive. It takes a day for an experienced group but since I imagine at least some of us are untried at it. It's intricacies are quite rewarding once you get into the flow of it... or what did that half orc call it." Krevlor thinks for a minute. "Bridge, that was it."
"Yeah, you got me," Darshe says to Herald with a grimace, "But 'Rock Jockey' makes the job sound a lot more exciting than it really is."
He then looks to Valorus, still trying to get used to the whole telepathic speech thing. "Well, pardon my speech, but I imagine that the Society is in better need of explorers and scientists than they are of someone that can beat the crap out of those explorers and scientists.
"That being said, you all look like nice folks, but I wouldn't be thinking about teaming up just yet. From the look of that e-com I assume we all got, we're not guaranteed a spot in the fold just yet." With a slight grin, he adds, "For all we know, we could be each other's competition."
In spite of this remark, he comes forward, more than eager to be dealt into whatever card game the others decide on.
{"I disagree,"} Valorus replies to Darshe, though it is still said to the group. {"A soldier is just as important than a scientist and an explorer. Sadly, not all life is as peaceful as those that are part of the Pact Worlds...though I admit my words before were more of a quip than seriousness. I apologize, as clearly I have overstepped my bounds."}
As the group settles in for a few rounds of cards, a series of short beeps trills from the normally locked door leading to the forequarters of the ship, and the door opens with a hydraulic sigh. A man garbed in a rust-coloured cowl and grease-stained coveralls steps out, the door closing behind him a few seconds later. He appears human, save for the yellow circuitry patterns adorning his cheekbones and chin.
"Good day sirs," he says, a slightly metallic twang in his voice. He begins preparing two trays of food, scooping a starchy mash into piles and placing slices of processed meat on top of them. "Captain says we should make good time to Absalom Station if I burn the engine brighter than normal. A waste of fuel if you ask me but the Starfinders are paying so who am I to argue with a deadline."
"Just make sure that you get the carbon scrubbed off the manifolds at the station before you take off again." Herald chats back. "Builds up pretty fast on these models of engines."
"Huh? Oh, no, I didn't mean it that way," Darshe says, realizing that his choice of words sounded more harsh than jovial. He waves off Valorus's apology. "There's nothing to apologize for."
Later on, he looks up from his current (and rather crappy) hand of cards, turning his attention to the crewman. "Is it still gonna be two and a half days? This waiting is killing me."
The android nods his head, turning backlit eyes towards Darshe. "It will be about that long for travel, yes. Most clients don't pay high enough for us to Drift from planet to planet, and Drift engines can be notoriously high maintenance. Even the Starfinders were happy to pay less for a longer trip - not that that will be any consolation to you, I suppose."
After slopping a watery brown sauce over the pieces of processed meat, the crewman balances both trays on his arm and walks over to the door, swiping at the keycard panel with his free hand. As the door trills again, the android turns his head and looks at the ysoki. "Oh, and Mister Cree, the captain said to tell you that if you take another shower that is over the regulation five minute duration, I have his permission to divert the ship's cooling lines into your cubicle."
"At least we have a fixed duration for the journey, drift travel is quick but not reliable. The time can be availed of in a productive manner if we apply ourselves." Krevlor looked at his hand it was somewhat good but not great, he continued to try to optimize it. "This way we have plenty of chances to get to know each other and consider the potential challenges before us."
Valorus looked at his hand. It was decent at best, but he would make due with what he had. He hopes that everyone else was dealt a less than ideal hand.
After the android made its announcement, Valorus took this very seriously, not realizing that the captain likely was joking. "{Well, if the captain is good on his word, we at least have a place to cool down after some training."}
Herald looks down at his cards for what probably was the first time and randomly rearranges them. That oughta do it. he thinks to himself.
It's clear he knows how to play the game, but Herald never plays with a set strategy or even looking at his cards half the time. He seems more interested in seeing if he can win by chance or by bluffing.
Cree doesn't even look at his cards - instead, his beady little eyes watch his fellow passengers as they fidget and examine their hands.
"So, why the Starfinders? What brought you all to this point? Did you lose a bet or something?" His voice carries a note of casual curiosity mixed with mild disdain.
Darshe grimaces at the android's remark. Back on the colony water management was a serious matter, so it didn't surprise him that the rules were a bit more stringent on a starship. The punishment did sound a little severe, however. Luckily for him, five minutes sounded like plenty.
"You ever visited a mining colony before?" Darshe asks as he plays a card. "My daily routine was to wake up, eat breakfast, hit the mines for twelve-something odd hours (with a mandated thirty-minute lunch break), eat supper, maybe hit the cantina for a drink or two, and then go to sleep. Now, imagine doing that every single day, for ten years."
He shakes his head, the mere thought of his old life giving him a headache.
"Working with the Starfinders sounds like a blast compared to that."
Krevlor should have seen the question coming but Cree was unexpectedly blunt about it. His lower left hand stopped mid reach for another card. His fingers curl inwards back to his palm. The calm calculation about his demeanor is gone.
He turns his head, his gaze on Cree as he replies in a sombre tone. "I've seen things, most people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the asteroid belt of Sora. I watched the lights of the floating city of Traus twinkle out."
He cast his eyes down for a second before continuing. "All those stories of that place were lost and I know mere fragments, all those cultures lost in the planets conquest. All the heroic deeds and failings of it's people will be forgotten in a few short years. Too few of it's people to continue the species, the stories, the essence of their people will be lost like tears in the rain before long."
"I saw a world die Mister Cree and I know we are all the lesser for it. In the grand scheme of things that world will experience it's second death possibly very soon. There are other civilizations that have fallen and I hope to increase our knowledge of them. The Starfinders are often focused on the Time of Silence and it's mysteries but there are many people's who never even made it that far. I think it only fair to honor and remember them and their stories. The resources of the Starfinders would help me in my quest."
He reaches out again and takes a card. "Does that answer your inquiry?"
Herald chuckles and shakes his head as he tosses a card onto the table. "Ah... never get tired of 'the speech'. Pretty much every Kasatha I've known for more than a day has their own version of it."
He gives Krevlor a grin. "I am joining the Starfinders 'cause hauling children back and forth from the Absalom station was a waste of my talents. I want to be able to fly ships, go out and explore the cosmos, make the galaxy a better place, and generally be freaking awesome."
If Valorus's eyes could widen in shock they would have. He thought about the tone that he would talk before speaking, but only to Krevlor, no one else could hear his words. "{That sounds awful. I am sorry for your loss.}" The right words escaped him, he hoped that would be enough for now. He carefully reviewed his cards, something like this couldn't be taken lightly. After careful contemplation he took one of his own cards and played it. Choice was a great feeling, even if it was for something as trivial to others like a game. The group could hear a sigh of relief coming from his mandibles.
He then broadcasted to the group, "{As for me, I have always lived in an underwater city throughout my entire life. I always was able to see works of art and culture come and leave the city, but to be honest, it never felt enough for me. I never really did get to enjoy the night sky outside of a few paintings, but when I saw the vastness of space, I knew what I wanted to do. I chose to join the Starfinders because they are a large organized group that gets to explore. I hope someday to go beyond the Pact Worlds, find new places.}" His emphasis showed his strong emotion of his individual choice.
The remainder of the trip is largely uneventful and as relaxing as it can be on a small shuttle careening through space. The steady vibration of the hull and the walls and floor as the engines power the Okimoro towards Absalom Station is one of the many constants of the trip.
After a little over two days have passed in the shuttle, the intercom hisses to life and the now familiar voice of the pilot echoes through the passenger section. "Gentlemen, we will be reaching communications range with Absalom Station in the next hour or so, and we should make dock soon after that once we pass through the Armada." With the announcement finished, the intercom returns to its silent state.
Just under an hour later, the hum of the inertial dampeners strengthens as the Okimoro enters manual flight mode and Absalom Station begins to come into view. The immense space station is impressive in both size and structure, with a central dome covering a sprawling series of highrise towers and beautifully tended parks and gardens, and the remainder of the station grows outwards - and downwards - from this central eye. Surrounding the station are hundreds of ships and hulls in a meandering orbit, and it is not long before the shuttle is weaving between the ships in this Armada, making its way towards its destination - a docking bay on one of the great arms of the station.
Another twenty or so minutes pass and the shuttle finally slows down and settles, the loud whirring of the engines subsiding. The Okimoro shudders, accompanied by a series of locking sounds as one of the stations umbilicals has latched onto the shuttle's airlock. Once again, the sound of the intercom turning on fills the shuttle. "Welcome to Absalom Station, docking bay 94. We hope you have enjoyed your trip aboard the Okimoro and would consider booking us for your next interplanetary excursion. Have a wonderful stay."
A small compartment next to the airlock door clicks open, revealing a small stack of business cards, each reading the shuttle name Okimoro and contact details for the shuttle's booking agent. The airlock opens with a whoosh of air as the pressures between the shuttle and the station equalize, and the flexible umbilical walkway can be seen extending towards the station itself.
Once on the other side of the umbilical's doors, the brightly lit docks of Absalom Station are abuzz with activity as travelers bustle by, preparing to board or disembarking from starships bound to or from any of dozens of worlds. Brash and swaggering starpilots, scurrying ysoki mechanics, and expectant colonists mingle with enigmatic kasatha mystics, hard-faced asteroid miners, imposing vesk mercenaries, and more, creating a microcosm of the abundance and variety of life in the Pact Worlds. New arrivals meet friends, loved ones, or business contacts, and are whisked away into the humming activity of daily life on the vast space station. Beyond them, ground crews tend to the docked ships, and dockworkers in mechanized cargo lifters load and unload freight and baggage. A sharp tang of ozone hangs in the air—a byproduct of electrical discharges from the docked ships—but underneath, the station’s atmosphere has a slightly used aroma. The docking bay’s deck plates thrum beneath your feet, though whether it’s from the passage of innumerable feet or the vibrations of the station’s power conduits and air recycling systems is impossible to say.
Herald will take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "Ahh, that freshly recycled air." he says, grinning. "So... Duravor... where's that handsome dwarf?"
When they first approached the station, Valorus was at one of the windows, looking at the station with awe. He was like a kid at a candy store. His body language just screamed excited, even if he himself didn't actually say anything.
As soon as the doors opened, he walked out with his own personal belongings in his pack. He was ready to seek out the dwarf that he was looking for. He looked at the picture closely, trying to memorize the little details before looking out to the crowd.
EDIT:
Krevlor already has his belongings repacked when the anouncement came but double checks everything is attached securely.
Over the journey people might come to learn he is eager to listen to people talk but certainly isn't shy about sharing his own opinion and experiences.
When the pilot announces their imminent arrival at Absalom Station, Darshe excuses himself, heading off to tend to his own belongings. When he is next seen, the human is outfitted in a suit of shiny metal plate, with a rifle slung over his shoulder and a hefty hammer hanging off his belt. He was not expecting trouble, but he wanted to leave a strong impression on the Starfinder representative - even if it did look like he was overcompensating a little.
As he steps off the Okimoro, Darshe smiles slightly, glad to be back on the station. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to stay there for too long. Hearing Herald, he glances about, searching for the dwarf they were looking for.
Cree steps down the ramp into the station, his rifle slung over one shoulder, spacesuit covering his fur, still wet after the long, luxurious shower he'd taken during the docking of the ship. He stretches his arms above his head, yawning, and looks around. "Ahhh, home, sweet home. Now, where's Durovar?"
As the crowd thins slightly, a familiar figure can be seen on the other side of the docking bay. A dwarf matching the photograph attached in the e-com from the Starfinders appears to alternate between glancing down at a datapad and scanning the crowd. He is wearing a paid of dark overalls and an oil-splattered shirt, and a button with the Starfinder’s emblem of a gold compass star emblazoned on it sits prominently on his chest.
After a moment, Duravor glances at the air-lock door and finally notices the five prospective Starfinder recruits standing there. He smiles brightly and raises an arm, waving it excitedly in greeting.
And that is when chaos breaks loose in the docking bay.
From both sides of the docking bay, a volleys of laser pistol shots fire across the room, catching the crowd off guard. Duravor freezes, paralyzed seemingly by fear. People begin to scream, duck, and run in every direction as thin laser bolts explode against metallic crates and machinery. One of the errant bolts seems to catch the dwarf and he spins around with the force of the blow, dropping the datapad as he raises his hands to his throat. The sleek tablet falls to the floor about a second before Duravor crumples to the ground.
Initiative - Surprise Round
21 - Cree
21 - Darshe
16 - Herald
16 - Krevlor
7 - Valorous
5 - Gang members
Cree slides his hunting rifle off of his shoulder, dropping to his stomach and lifting it to rest his metal arm on the trigger. "Come on, Big Poppy. Don't let me down today..." He mutters to himself as he surveys the scene from the ground.
Krevlor quickly moves up behind some crates to take cover pushing through the fleeing civilians. Once ducked into cover he starts drawing his pistol. It all happened too fast to tell which side shot Duravor. Krevlor waited to see which side might shoot at his travelling companions before committing to violence against them.