Deep on Absalom Station...
A large vesk in a muscle shirt sits at a table in the small reception room, messily consuming the various laid-out refreshments. Venture- Captain Arvin stands on the opposite side of the table, visibly annoyed at the vesk, and turns toward the arriving Starfinders with some relief. “Thank you for your quick response. Some new technology has come to the Society’s attention”—the vesk clears his throat loudly, and Arvin’s eyebrow twitches in irritation—“from our… contact Julzakama. If you would…”
The vesk, Julzakama, stands, pulling a battered gym bag out from under the table. “Feast your eyes on this little gemling.” He reaches into the bag and removes what appears to be a severed human hand. Julzakama waves the limb then offers it to Arvin to shake.
Arvin declines the offered limb, rubbing his temples, and explains. “As you might have guessed, this is a prosthetic limb. It’s a standard cybernetic augmentation, but this one was made with a new type of biotech, so well grafted that it’s almost undetectable without magic. Its special features are just as well hidden.” Arvin takes the hand from Julzakama to demonstrate a nearly invisible compartment large enough to conceal a knife, several data drives, or a small toolkit. “Such technology would be invaluable for covert and diplomatic operations, and the Society would like to find the specialist who crafted and installed it. But therein lies the difficulty. Julzakama, if you could explain the… circumstances of this discovery?”
Julzakama holds up his hands, saying, “Now, I wasn’t personally involved. Some vesk workers known to some of my customers got in a territorial dispute with some manlings. Stuff happened, one of these guys turned his winnings over to my customer to settle a bet, and here we are.” Julzakama gestures at the hand, smiling ingratiatingly, and continues, “I thought you Starfinders might be interested.”
“Indeed, we are.” Arvin folds his hands behind his back. “Julzakama tells me that his acquaintances’ rivals had been known to acquire their gear from gray-market operations in the Freemarkets. As that is our only lead so far, I’d like you to investigate the area; even if none of the listed clinics are the source, they may have more information on who is.”
Oops, 10, 15, 20
"No. It's decidedly inert."
Venture-Captain Arvin blinks at everyone for an uncomfortable amount of time. "If there are no questions, I believe you have a mission."
Julzakama waves the severed hand at you.
"If I recall correctly, there’s a directory of businesses near the entrance that’s updated monthly; you could check that for augmentation clinics. The Markets have a high turnover rate, though; businesses open and close all the time. It might be worth your time to check with the Markets’ AbadarCorp representatives for an updated list of operating permits."
Gilded doors separate the Freemarkets from the previous station sector. The entrance area contains a sizable shrine to Abadar to the right; to the left, an office issues permits, takes complaints, and receives petitions. Through the entry zone, a giant signboard with a directory of businesses offers onlookers a way to locate their desired merchandise.
There are no large vehicles in the Freemarkets; all internal transport is handled at the Markets’ lowest level, reserved for delivery and maintenance. The main avenue follows the curve of the station, with four other walkways on the base level. Most goods and larger items of merchandise are on this level. The second level has a grid of aerial walkways and contains mostly service businesses: cosmeticians, spellcasters, tax preparers, and the like. Aside from street-food stalls, most eateries are on the third level, where patrons can observe the hustle and bustle from above. High turnover prevents sorting of businesses by type. The entire market consists of small businesses that focus on the working to lower-middle classes; entrepreneurs with more upscale aspirations usually have the connections and capital to afford permanent locations in more exclusive areas. That being said, trend followers of all income brackets frequent the Markets looking for the next flavor of the week, and savvy financiers do so seeking up-and-comers they can sponsor at other locations or hire directly.
The walkways are laid out in an orderly manner, with lifts and staircases at regular intervals leading to the Markets’ three retail levels. Kiosks sporting AbadarCorp logos offer carts for rent and advertise delivery services. Other businesses promote themselves in a riot of lights, music, and recorded ad pitches. Businesses are not grouped by type; food stalls operate next to jewelry stores, and specialists repair high-end electronics next to secondhand clothing racks.
As Gideon approaches, the clerk he's about to speak to leaves on break...
In his place is a familiar looking Shirren. It's Philt the envoy from Akiton during the incident with the Fugitive on the Red Planet.
"Looking for some better information?" he thinks at all of you. "I noted your names on the approach. The Directory IS outdated, and I can guess why you're here. Only three of the clinics listed (BioBoost, the Cytech Clinic, and Metagenesis) have current permits. I am investigating a number of customers who have disappeared in the past two weeks. Related?"
"We have intersecting business interests, but we're not partners. Sorry ol'chap. Some of you have earned the respect of AbadarCorp, and we ALWAYS pay our debts."
You've got a few leads; BioBoost, the Cytech Clinic, and Metagenesis. Where to Starfinders?
The party, deferring to Spacey's suggestion, heads over to "BioBoost." BioBoost specializes in nutritional supplements and “legal chemical enhancements.” Its muscular salesperson Isidre (a female human), greets you. "Good Morning! By the looks of you lot, you need some help bulking up. Well, you've come to the right place. What can I do for you?"
She smiles at Gideon, "Sorry darling. Look around. This shop provides customers with the means to improve their bodies through hard work and discipline, not “shortcuts” like augmentations, prosthetic, and whatnot. Now, I've got plenty of vitamins and supplements though."
The party takes a look around the shop, and it doesn't look like this is the place.
"Since you asked so nicely though, try Metagenesis or Renew-You."
If the wares on display are any indication (and they are), Metagenesis focuses on broad-spectrum biotech augmentations, such as chameleon skin and gill sheaths, and personal upgrades that boost general performance. The owner,a verthani named Chryson greets you, "Greetings. May I help you?"
"I'm picking up what you're putting down. Just tell me what it is that you're actually looking for. Discretion is part of my game."
Gideon is fairly certain he's got the man's attention.
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Gideon's brows furrow, and he pauses a moment to consider whether this is a trap.
No trap. "You have a shockingly low threshold for what requires discretion. I've got plenty of that."
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"Do not be so certain, stranger," Gideon warns with a bright smile flashing across his face. "Those are only the first requirements. You see, the folks we deal with have ample means and methods of detection -- so when I say it needs to be able to escape detection, I mean any detection. That includes magic and tech."
"Secondly, the folks we deal with have experts that can spot all the known models. We are looking for something... off-market."
"Just tell me what it is."
The supplier seems a bit confused, and shows off all his wares. There is a fair amount of "by the book" augmentation, but nothing particularly relevant to your mission.
He seems like a rather simple and straight forward business person.
The party heads of to Cytech.
The Cytech Clinic performs cybernetic augmentations, not biotech, and the owner directs the party to Metagenesis and Renew-You, mentioning the latter used to perform cybernetic augmentations...
The Renew-You clinic is a modular unit that resembles a shipping container. Although it is clearly older than the surrounding structures, it looks clean and well maintained. Metal doors are rolled down over the entrance and windows, and a neat sign reading “CLOSED INDEFINITELY” hangs over the posted business hours.
Gideon looks around. Unfortunately, another shop keep isn't on hand.
The clinic is bordered on one side by a temporarily vacant unit and on the other by an accountant’s office closed for lunch.
Frustrated at the lack of progress Gideon looks around. He sees nothing, nor does anyone else.
"Hi. I'm Senndi." The party looks down to see a halfling child . "If you're looking for an augment, you're too late. they closed up. Besides. My mom went there and now she's really sick."
"She got an augmeent, and now shes got a really bad tummy ache that never goes away. Oh and a headache. That too."
The child looks at Gideon, "You guys look official. If I take you there, will you help?"
The halfling apartment complex is only a short distance from the Freemarkets.
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Jumpsuits and equipment belts hang from pegs, crowding the entryway. Farther in, this cluttered apartment is dimly lit. To the right of the entryway is a small kitchen, where an older male halfling is preparing food while assisting two adolescents doing schoolwork at the table. To the left of the entryway is a common area, full of worn but comfortable-looking furniture. A heavy, wracking cough echoes from deeper in the apartment.
The halflings, somehow soothed by Gideon's timbre, congregate around the Knight of Tides. They begin pouring out information. Perhaps it's catharsis, perhaps confession.
"I'm Senndi’s father, Hermot. Maija had damaged her lungs working long hours in a chemical plant and needed a variation of a respirator compounder to continue providing for the family. A halfling acquaintance persuaded us to seek out a biotech augmentation, which would be less obvious than standard cybernetics. As it happened, this acquaintance had recently received his own augmentation—a high-density datajack—from the Renew-You clinic. This friend claimed his graft had taken almost immediately, without problems or scarring, and he had returned to work just days afterward."
A female halfling steps in, "I'm Maija’s friend and personal tender, my name is Tanit. I accompanied Maija to the Renew-You clinic 2 weeks ago. A shirren male-female couple operated the clinic. The male, whose name was Vrisken, explained the procedure and booked the appointment. According to Vrisken, his partner had personally crafted the augmentation with components from “a new source” that would enable rapid recovery. The female shirren performed the operation. I saw her for only a moment and can’t remember her name. Maija’s operation took less than an hour and that Maija was back to work in 2 days."
Such a complex operation—adding an augmentation to support a failing organ—should have taken hours, and without magical aid Maija’s recovery should have taken weeks.
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Noble-44 takes on a concerned look after hearing those recovery times.
"If you don't mind, I'd be happy to take a look at Maija's condition while my friends here" he waves to the group "get some information from you about this clinic... we are currently in the business of augmentation analysis and have interest in this clinic."
Noble-44 and Gideon leave the halflings relieved in a way.
Tanit continues the story, answering questions on the short walk to Maija's room. "Maija began feeling ill again 5 days ago. I went to the clinic to ask about follow-up care, but found it closed down. We unable to afford another doctor, and Maija has been bedridden at home for the past 3 days. The halfling who had recommended biotech to us, Shenge, was a “kinda shady” figure who nonetheless supported the local halfling community."
Maija lies resting in the apartment’s larger bedroom, exhausted but lucid and able to answer your questions.