Eventually, you come to a neat yet cluttered office with the nameplate Chiskisk over the open door. A host Shirren wearing a garish yellow goldilocks wig and a dashing looking fake black handlebar mustache is admiring themselves in the mirror. When they see you, the Shirren agent turns, raising an arm in greeting.
"Oh, hello! What do you think? I just found these antique hairpieces in an option bar. Aren't they the best? The salesman told me they conveyed an aura of mysterious yet playf--" The shirren breaks off, antennae twitching.
"Where's Kreel? Wasn't he supposed to bring you? Is that dwarf late again?"
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"You do seem underutilized. Would you like me to speak to Historia about finding you a better post?"
Hawthorne has a hard time masking the confused expression the Shirren-in-wig evokes. He has an even harder time masking the sadness on his face when Chiskisk asks about Kreel.
"No. No, Steelhand is not with us."
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Puzzled, Zeyram hesitates a moment. Late again? I thought late meant dead, but why would he say dead again? Must mean late as in not timely. So confusing, wish they wouldn't reuse words like that.
To explain further what Hawthorne said, Zeyram adds "I'm sorry sir. There was an incident on the docks and Kreel...well he was killed protecting a family from stray laser fire."
Following their guide before coming to an halt at the door, the android regarded the shirren in front of him and what seemed like a frown caressed his features as if he was confused by the concept of being late or not being there. Once more He would let someone else do the talking, expression of feelings was all new to him and this was just a new mind blowing experience.
“I see.” Chiskisk’s antennae droop. “He always did just charge right in, didn’t he?”
“I am sorry that I cannot welcome you to Absalom Station under better circumstances. I assure you that such attacks are not a daily occurrence, though I realize that is likely small comfort to you. I am pleased that none of you were seriously hurt, but I grieve for Kreel's death. He was a valued member of the Society, a partner, and a friend. He introduced me to beer... so many choices, so many options. He did not laugh when I tried them all. May the Lady of Graves be kind in her judgment of his soul.” The shirren bows their head momentarily, then looks up, their compound eyes glittering. “Can you tell me a bit more about this shooting?”
After you tell Chiskisk a bit about what you witnessed, they lean over a computer screen, though they have to brush the golden strands of the wig out of their face as they type.
“What puzzles me is the reason behind the attack.” Chiskisk taps a few commands into their computer. “According to the incident report just released by station security, two gangs were involved in the attack: the Downside Kings and the Level 21 Crew. Gang wars are not uncommon on the station, but they usually confine themselves to the more lawless sectors like the Puddles. It is rare for street gangs to battle openly in public areas like the docks. I cannot help but wonder whether all is as it seems. There must be a reason why those two gangs were at Docking Bay 94 at that time—the time of your arrival, coincidentally. But was it coincidence? Were you and Steelhand just innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire, or might you and he have been specifically targeted? And if so, why?”
“Steelhand told me you were coming, and that he wanted me to meet you.” The shirren pulls off the wig, and puts it to the side. “He said there was a project that he wanted you to work on, and that he’d tell me and you at the same time. So I don’t have answers, only more questions. But I do have a task for you. I want you to investigate Kreel’s death. Find out exactly what happened and why. It may simply be a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time—I have no doubt station security will rule it so—but if Duravor was murdered, I would like to find justice for my friend.”
Chiskisk’s antennae perk up again. “Arceon? No. But there’s been constant mention on the news of the Acreon for the past few days.”
They pull up a news article with the lurid title, DERELICT SHIP AND DRIFT ROCK — OR DEATH ROCK?
Chiskisk plays the clip.
★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★
- A pair of reporters, a male lashunta and a female human, show pictures of a prospecting ship. “The mystery continues, and all of Absalom Station is simply AGOG with EXCITEMENT,” the woman says.
The man intones, “That’s because we can’t resist a good tragedy. Give us a mystery, a bunch of missing people, and the possibility of a death rock in space...”
“Alleged death rock, Roon,” the woman notes. Images of miners flash on the screen. “Though these are some of the men, women and others who are believed dead or missing from the Acreon crew.”
“A few weeks ago, the Acreon discovered an asteroid floating in the Drift while traveling to Absalom Station from Near Space. Always looking for their next claim, the miners captured the asteroid — now known as the Drift Rock — and towed it behind their ship—but when the Acreon arrived at Absalom Station, its crew had disappeared, leaving the ship deserted. Station security immediately quarantined the ship and the mysterious asteroid at a safe distance from the station, pending further inquiry.”
“Heh,” the male lashunta, ‘Roon’ says, waggling his antennae. “Makes you wonder what they think it does... So, let’s ask the common sentient!”
Then proceeds the most inane series of interviews with random people on the station, most of whom have idiotic theories about the Drift Rock and the missing crew. “It’s a rock from the future, and the crew entered a singularity!”
“It’s a source of endless power, and if it collides with the Starstone, the Gap will be undone!”
“It’s Torag’s restin’ place, and he’s going to smash the station if’n we don’t return it. We are doomed. Dooomed!”
★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★
Chiskisk lets a few more of thiese interviews play out, and then cuts it off. “Unless you want to hear the woman who thinks that all of this is a Strawberry Machine Cake publicity stunt?” they query. “That one was pretty entertaining, because she quotes some of their weirder lyrics.”
“So, we have the Acreon, and two gangs and of course Duravor Kreel himself... Where do you want to start?”
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Acreon is a ship? Interesting!
“What do we know about the Acreon? You said it was a miners ship, so I would expect the frame would either be a heavy freighter or bulk freighter. If they listed the full crew we could probably work back from that. Any idea what shipyard built it?” Zeyram seems keenly interested in any details about the ship.
I’m going to have to review those newscasts. I bet I can figure out more about the ship!
With less enthusiasm, he asks “You seem to know the names of the two gangs. Can you tell us anything more about them?”
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"This is all terrible news, not at all what I thought I was coming for, I thought I was here for the kids, and now... what would Kreel be doing investigating some strange ship? maybe that's where we could film an episode of Jims' Jams? Doing up a derelict spaceship? Wow, I didn't think we had that kinda production budget. You know what, I'm going check that ship out, I'm going to see what we can do down there and I'm going to dedicate the episode to Kreel, he'd want it that way - the show must go on amirite?" the vesk looks hopeful.
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"He seemed to associate the ship with his Hardscrabble kids," Hawthorne adds. "Maybe some of his graduates were assigned to the ship."
He looks to the vesk sympathetically. "We might start with the gangs. They're the reason Steelhand is dead. But I am not opposed to heading to the heart of what he brought us here to deal with."
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Xyklik looks hard at the others. "The Vesk seems emotionally distraught. Is this the way their race processes anguish, talk of episodes and production? I am not aware of these terms used in such situations. Most call on their gods in a foxhole, as it were."
The large shirren shrugs and sloughs his pack from his shoulders and begins counting ammunition. "I think we should go to this ship. We're not law enforcement, and the gangs seem outside our mission parameters."
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Zeyram hesitates for a moment, excited but wary.
They want to go to the ship! They want to go to the ship!
Shouldn't we find out more about it first though? If other people disappeared on it, it is likely dangerous.
"People disappeared from the ship. Wouldn't it be better to find out more before we go there? At the very least, I would like to study what information we can get on the ship."
Looking to Chiskisk, he adds "Do you think it likely Kreel could have found out something about this from the gangs? Seems strange how they told him to quit interfering."
“LAW ENFORCEMENT!” Chiskisk’s antennae twitch at Xyklik’s statement. “While I’m no expert on Absalom’s gangs — that was Kreel’s beat — I’ve lived on the station for twenty years, and I can tell you how this will go if you leave this to LAW ENFORCEMENT. Absalom Station Security will take notes, interview witnesses, make a couple of consoling comments to ninnies from the press like that Roon fellow, and then file lots of paperwork, concluding that this was all an unfortunate accident. But real answers? HAH!”
The shirren sends out a telepathic message to all of you, directly to your heads.
More calmly, they say in a normal voice, “Kreel was the type to poke into everything. He was never a hands-off agent. It’s not surprising that the gangs knew who he was. I do know this from him, though. Following one lead often leads to another. Gather what information you can, and keep me informed.”
They look at all of you. “Kreel has you on the books as Starfinders in training, so here’s a sign-up bonus of 200 a piece. That should cover some of your starting expenses. Good luck!”
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“I managed to pass my computer training, but others are much better with them.” Zeyram admits.
Looking towards Hawthorne, he says “If you can forward what you find out about the ship to me, I can ask around about it.”
“In the meantime, I think that I’ll try to get some more information about these gangs and what they have been doing.”
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Reading the Incident Report, Zeyram makes some notes to help him organize his thoughts. He also attempts to get a copy of the camera feed from the shuttle and reviews that in case it shows something he didn’t notice.
Checking the infosphere for directions, he goes to the police station to try and speak with the medic. She seemed the sympathetic sort.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I would like to find out more about the incident today. We were going to meet with Kreel at the docks, he had something he wanted us to investigate. Now our group needs to retrace his steps in order to that.”
“Would you be willing to help? If now is not a good time, I could meet you later. Just tell me where and when.”
He is mostly hoping to find out about other shootings involving the Downside Kings or Level 21 Crew. He is willing to share any information he gets related to crimes and doesn’t care who takes the credit for that.
He is also hoping she can suggest a good way to approach Ed, since he seemed to be very familiar with the two gangs.
When approaching Ed, he starts by offering the camera feed. “I don’t think I mentioned it at the time, but I had the external cameras running at the time of the incident. Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier!”
He then asks Ed about much of the same things, but also asks if he knows of any contacts that Kreel and he both had. He is willing to share information with Ed as well.
Once he has finished with the police, he will make notes and send them to the others. He will also check what (if anything) Hawthorne has sent him about the ship.
He then spends some time gathering rumors at the various pilot bars. He uses the information he already has to help him figure out who actually knows something and who is making things up. He is hoping to connect with someone who actually knew one of the crew or worked aboard that ship.
Hawthorne remembers the last time he went drinking with the old dwarf, the last time Steelhand had visited Akiton.
- The old dwarf smiles wanly. “Eh lad.. I’ve been keeping busy back on the station. There’s so many kids there who lack the chances we both got. So the ambitious ones, the ones with spark and fire, the ones who refuse to be squashed flat... They turn to the gangs.”
The grey bearded dwarf pours Hawthorne another purified water. “Now you, you got yourself Sophia, and found solace in Triune. And I had my family, first in the Hardscabble folks, then in the Society. But what do they have to grab onto? They take the first hand that is offered to them.”
He shakes his head. “Some of the gangs ain’t so bad... Take the Level 21 Crew. They’re the gang that claims Level 21 of Absalom Station's seedy lower decks as its territory. Like most gangs, they engage in theft, fencing stolen goods, gambling, prostitution, racketeering, and smuggling. Bad as they are, they at least have a bit o’ pride in their neighborhood. When they offer protection money, they mean it. Keep their word most of the time, and they sometimes do some work on making the community better. Yeah, they rule the roost, but no one starves on their turf and you can sometimes reason with them.”
Then he sighs. “Then you get scum like the Downside Kings. Of the kids who approach them, it’s the lucky ones that make it in the gang. The others get trafficked and sold off.” The metal tankard that Steelhand is clenching suddenly crumples in his left fist. “Damn it! Keep forgetting my own strength, and here I go wasting beer. My ma would box my ears to see it.” He leans forward. “At any rate, the Kings are brutal, controlling several decks of Absalom Station's lower levels, or “Downside,” through a combination of intimidation and violence. They’re not content with the usual gang stuff. Oh yeah, they extort, fraud, rob, smuggle, and steal... But there’s also drug and arms dealing, kidnapping, murder-for-hire, and trafficking in sentient species.”
“But there’s happy stories, too. We just need to get in there, offer the kids alternatives, and get them out. So... That’s what I’ve been doing. What ‘bout you and Sophia?”
Hawthorne and Cade work together to pull up some intitial information, and piece together the following:
The Hardscrabble Collective is a clan of stubborn asteroid miners that operates primarily among the scattered planetoids of the Diaspora. It has no offices or base of operations, but the clan members usually view the Armada—the ever-changing fleet of ships that orbit Absalom Station—as a central gathering place. Collective crews hire their ships out to a wide variety of business concerns, including Astral Extractions, which recently employed the Collective ship Acreon to scout for new mining prospects in the Vast.
While the Hardscrabble Collective calls itself a clan, it is more of a cooperative business enterprise, a coalition of dozens of ships' crews who have banded together for mutual benefit and safety. While some of the Collective's members are related, most of them are individuals from a dozen different races: humans, dwarves, androids, ysoki, and more. Nevertheless, the Hardscrabble Collective is as tightly knit as many families, and members fiercely look after one another's welfare.
The Acreon had a diverse crew of six that had done dozens of prior dangerous mining operations with careful efficiency. The fate of their discovery, the Drift Rock, is currently the focus of an intense legal battle between Astral Extractions and the Hardscrabble Collective. Both sides are claiming the rock as their own, and neither is showing any signs of letting up soon.
Zeyram easily extracts the camera’s recordings. When he approaches the medic, her eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I remember you!” She’s in a lab, but she takes a pause from what she’s doing to wave at a silver-grey ysoki. “Pearl, can you finish these tests for me? I’m taking a break.” Turning back to you, she says, “Do you like tea? There’s a little stand across from the Lorespire that has the best tea. It’s even served with a straw — you don’t have to ask for it special or anything.”
Tudil picks up a pair of Brethedan Bubble teas in bright colors from some place called the Posh Kettle. The bubbling teas are neon colors, but the tightly fitting lids keep the tea-flavored bubbles from floating away.
“By the way, I’m Tudil, but never caught your name. Ed said you guys were new to Absalom Station?” She glances up at the Lorespire. “Pretty, isn’t it? I used to come here all the time, and even studied medicine in their academic campus. My cousin was a bit of a big deal there, before—” She breaks off. “—but that’s not what you want to hear about, is it?”
She walks back with you to a small park across from the station, studying the computer feed that you shared. As Kreel gets shot, she winces. “Can you believe that they do this in public places? So... you want a bit of information on the gangs? They’ve both been going out of their territories a lot lately. I don’t know much about the Downside Kings, other than they’re responsible for a lot of the bodies that wind up in my morgue. I know a bit more about the Level 21 Crew. Sometimes they ask for medical help for their residents.” She hesitates. “I know that my lab tech, Pearl, is a distant cousin of their leader, though she denies it. When there was a gas explosion on that level, she asked my help for treating the wounded. So I went and helped... I actually saw their leader, a grizzled yskoki called Jabaxa, he was frantically helping with the triage. He kind of sees himself as a sort of robber hero, and goes out of his way to hire his group out to defend marginalized and threatened groups or factions.”
“Oh crap,” she says as her com unit bings. “I have to go back. By the way, do you want to do this again? I could, um, show you around the station sometime.”
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"The exocortex and datajack started out as standard issue," Hawthorne says as he scrolls through the information. Sections of text occasionally highlight themselves and are saved away somewhere. "The intelligence within, Sophia, is unique, of course, and I tricked it out with my own modifications. It even has a small 3D printer to generate the tools I needed and then recycle them back into UDPs."
He composes an electronic file of information and sends it to Zeyram. "If we're going to talk to the gangs, we'll probably have better luck with the Level 21 Crew. They're less likely to shoot us. There are a couple of corporations to try as well, if we want access to the ship--legally, at least."
“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to comment on investigations in progr—” Ed’s words stop, mid-stream as he sees the camera feed, his antennae lifting in surprise. “Oh. Why didn’t you say so? Alright, I can offer a bit of a trade here.”
He talks for a bit about the two gangs, covering much of what Hawthorne remembered of them, ending with this. “Ruthless as they are, the Downside Kings have started getting better equipped. They’re clearly connected and well off for a bunch of street thugs. The turnover of their leaders is rapid. At least three former leaders have been assasinated in the past year, but their current leader is a barbarous human woman named Ferani Nadaz.“
Ed holds out his hand. “Hope this helps you, and doesn’t get you killed.”
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Jim takes Buster and decides to check out what the members of the press and the entertainment community might know.
"Hey, I'm Jim from 'Jims Jams', and this here is Buster. I've come to see 'Roon' about the Acreon and some other stuff that is going on around here, we were supposed to be doing an episode on the Acreon, but looks like production is now cancelled because of some...technical difficulties... but thinking Roon might be able to help out here - some kind co-branded cross-channel promotion? Here, have a free signed 6x8 promo shot from the show..."
Culture
Additional +5ecall knowledge about other icons of your profession (Video Personality) or details about your profession’s cultural aspects.
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“By the way, I’m Tudil, but never caught your name. Ed said you guys were new to Absalom Station?”
"I am Zeyram, and only recently began my Tempering." he answers. Is she flirting with me? "Steelhand was one of the first people here I met, he helped me get a few jobs as a pilot." He is obviously a little saddened by the thought.
“Oh crap,” she says as her com unit bings. “I have to go back. By the way, do you want to do this again? I could, um, show you around the station sometime.”
"I would enjoy that very much. Perhaps you could tell me more of your cousin as well." She is! She is so smart too, all the medical training!
He switches to Kasatha and repeats a proverb. "We must always remember and honor the past, for in it are the seeds to a better future."
He leaves his communicator information with Tudil.
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Ed holds out his hand. “Hope this helps you, and doesn’t get you killed.”
Zeyram offers his own hand and gives a firm handshake. "I will be careful, sir. Thank you for the warning -- without it I could have accidentally stumbled into something bad."
"I intend to look into this further." Zeyram firmly declares. "Should I come across information that may be of interest to station security -- such as where those supplies are coming from -- how would you like me to contact you?"
Zeyram is willing to leave his communicator information with Ed as well.
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Once he has left the station, he rushes to a cafe so that he can send the information he gained. He highlights the information about the Kings recently being much better armed. I wouldn't want any of the others to stumble into a bad situation without knowing!
The android tagged along and assisted where he could and keeping a detailed track of all the information learned. He would interject where he could with things learned and then when the call came to meet at the Moons of Sleep he nodded. Once there and taking a seat he would go over the information they had gathered and contemplate on the things. "So, we have a few things to consider now and figure out our course..."
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Receiving a text shortly after sending off his collected information, Zeyram considers a moment. He texts back asking for a meeting time.
He will have to finish asking around at the various pilot hangouts later, after the meeting.
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“Big Jim and Buster!” Roon is delighted, as he gets up from his chair. He kisses the Vesk on both cheeks. “A meeting of legends, amirite?” An entire film crew is there, shooting. Roon poses, with a big smile even going so far to get a shot astride Buster.
“So they told me that you were in a shooting with Absalom’s gang members, and even shot the notorious ‘Azul’. Blew him to pieces! No, don’t ask me how I know... Never reveal a source, amirite? Of course I’m right. Got any film of that? It could be BIG.” Roon gestures with arms wide, to show how big this could be.
Roon looks Jim over. “Wow, you’re even bigger in person. So... A joint show on the Acreon! My hair, your teeth... It’ll be media gold!” Then he pauses. “Jim... do you have a way of getting to the Acreon? I heard your sponsor, Steelhand Kreel, was a big investor in the Hardscrabble Collective! Sunk personal money into ships and such, not surprising for a former miner’s kid from the Diaspora. Interesting guy, Kreel. He was active in challenging large corporate interests that exploited individual miners and laborers, including Astral Extractions. Do you have an ‘in’? You must, amirite?”
The Moons of Sleep is an ysoki-owned hotel located just a short walk from the parks and towers of the Eye, the hotel is centrally located, and has both efficiencies and suites available. The holographic sign shows Liavara, the Dreamer, and all her moons circling round and round.
When you flash your id cards, the elderly ysoki at the desk smiles up at you. “Oh! You’re the group we were expecting! Your suite is this way, and very comfortable it is too. We pride ourselves on our pillows! If you’re looking for food, there are some twenty places nearby that deliver, including my favorite noodle shop. Oh! And did I tell you that we have a deal for Starfinders if you decide to stay beyond the month that was booked for you?”
The rooms are nice and comfy. The ysoki shows you how to fold the beds out of the walls, and convert them into couches, and where all the moon shaped lights are. “Have a good day, and let Ol’ Kaf know if you need anything!”
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As Roon climbs aboard Buster, the drone quadbike carries out its 'tv/entertainment' routine displaying various lights and opening up curious panels and demonstrating its various attachments, bits, and bobs. The droid might not be all that smart yet, but it knows it is an entertainment industry specialist...
"There was a shooting, but not the type I favour. I always have my tape rolling but I didn't broadcast any of that - not family friendly at all. I don't have an in on to the Acreon just yet, I need to look at Kreels notes and find out where he'd gotten up to, but clearly that is what all this was leading to - perhaps some Hardscrabble kids coming on board the ship and learning to use their hands, some bonding opportunities, and some great tool company sponsorship. Kreel was a real stand up guy, I wasn't all that familiar with his work against the big corporate guys, but it don't surprise me he was a Union guy"
Jim exchanges details, hands out some more signed 6"x8" photos and heads back to his comrades.
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While the others are investigating, Cade heads home to let his girl know he’s safe.
When he leaves, he kisses the baby-bump and says a quick prayer to Iomedae.
You ain’t gettin’ caught up in no ganger business my boy. We’re gettin’ outta here.
That done, he heads to the workshops at the Old Arc, seeing if anyone’s setting up any Roon related research.
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“I talked to both the medical examiner Tudil and the investigator Ed that seemed to be familiar with the gangs. They were both called in for the incident. I believe I covered all my findings in the notes I sent.
I have not talked to Tudil’s partner, Pearl. Considering she doesn’t admit her connection to Tudil who she works with, we will want to wait until we can give her a reason to talk to us.
I think we will be able to trade information with nothing Ed and Tudil. I already gave Ed the ship’s recording of what happened —which is probably the main reason he was willing to talk to me. He is the one who told me that the Downside Kings are getting equipment from someone.
I also reviewed the information we have on the ship. I will be trying to find someone on station that either knew a crew member or previously worked on the ship. All ships tend to have some modifications done to them, knowing a bit more about the ship may allow us to better plan for the trip.”
It’s not difficult to find information on public personalities. Roon was a weatherman in Castrovel, then shifted into the far more lucrative fields of news anchoring and talk shows. The common consensus from your friends at the Arc is that Roon is savvy about anything that gets him on camera, but otherwise is a good-looking idiot.
As an independent Pact World, Absalom Station is ruled by the Prime Executive, a term-limited position with theoretically absolute authority over the station's legislation and management. Colloquially known as the “Primex,” the Prime Executive is elected and advised by the Syndicsguild, a council of neighborhood representatives called syndics who do much of the real work of running the station and who, while bound by the Primex's decrees, also have the ability to remove their leader from power at any time and call for a new election. Partitioning the station's different neighborhoods into dozens of electoral districts over the years—many times in ways that favor one faction over others—means that, while most syndics are democratically elected, some corporate or criminal enclaves are dynasties in all but name.
In addition to its own government, Absalom Station also hosts the Pact Worlds' representative body, the Pact Council, meaning that the station is constantly flooded with delegates and ambassadors from other worlds. While this is good for business and gives Absalom Station residents easy access to the movers and shakers of the Pact Worlds, it also creates tension, as these foreign nationals operate with varying degrees of diplomatic immunity. The Stewards, the Pact Worlds' primary peacekeeping force, also maintain a headquarters on Absalom Station, and local laws allow corporations to employ private security in their holdings, so citizens sometimes find Absalom Station's legal system a jurisdictional nightmare, while savvy criminals often manage to slip through the cracks. Those in the know often warn that the station is never more than one misstep away from chaos, as security contractors and militant zealots wage shadow wars with street gangs and each other, alien ambassadors negotiate world-shaking trade deals, and explorers go to any lengths to beat rivals' claims to new planets. Still, station security does the best it can, and most denizens of Absalom Station live and work in relative safety—at least in the nicer neighborhoods.
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"If we're going to press the gangs for information," Hawthorne begins, "We should stay together and start with the Level 21 Crew. They have a code and are relatively less violent for a gang."
I see what you did there.
"We can probably hack into the Hardscrabble servers if someone can distract whoever is in the room with us when we go."
Yes, please!
"We might also be able to hack into the dockyard databases if we can get close enough to a terminal. We can jack in with a physical line just about anywhere in the docks, but that's a lot more obvious."
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They'd never even notice.
"They'd never even notice," Hawthorne reassures Cade, his voice echoing the AI's thoughts. "We can see what they're willing to share with a bunch of strangers, though."
He looks to Zeyram. "Everyone has servers, except for a few dwarves that still use paper."
Paper! The only sure protection from my hacking skill!
Cadence visits with colleagues at the Arc, and one of his gnomish Professor, Hieronymous Twitchbaton, says, “That’s the thing... No one knows what it is, or what it can do. Just that it’s a bit of another universe, dragged into ours. Maybe it’s just a rock, filled with metals that are found nowhere else. Maybe it’s got magical properties. Maybe whatever it’s made of doesn’t obey the rules of our universe at all. That’s why they’re all mad to get their hands on it, and why Absalom Station quarantined it after the Acreon’s crew disappeared. Because whatever it is... It’s unlikely to be anything we’ve seen before.”
As you make your decision to visit the Hardscrabble Collective, you discover to your consternation that the group has no offices on the station. When you call Stock in Rock, the employment firm that handles contracts for them, the receptionist Delores only states, “The Collective is not currently accepting any jobs. No, I can’t forward messages. Have you ever met them? They’re very competent... but they’re also stubborn and insular, and they’re not returning even my calls.”
Do you have any other questions for her?
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”They don’t make your life easy, do they? Or ours... so, they live aboard ship? Out in the fleet? Or way out in the Diaspora? Have you got a list of their ships, just in case we really need to track them down?”
Iomedae’s breath! What if these guys and gals all pegged it out in the black, who’d know?