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The Okimoro probably isn’t the nicest ship you’ve ever been on. With the lack of amenities, there has been plenty of time to get to know your fellow passengers that you share the shuttle cabin with, at least. The door of the cabin was marked ‘Reserved by the Starfinder Society’ when you first approached. Very quickly in the three day journey through the drift you realize that Economy confines aren’t the only things you share. You all have received the same somewhat cryptic vid-message from an old acquaintance, a dwarf with a bristly, copper-red beard and deep-set eyes beneath bushy eyebrows:
Hey there, been a long time. If you're interested, I have work for you back on Absalom Station with the Society. Been following your career, and think you have potential. If you think the same, why not come out? I got some lodgings all set up, and you can see what I've got to offer. We can drink a few of my beers, you can tell me what you've been doing with yourself all this time, take a tour of the Lorespire, and then you can decide for yourself.
If you don't like it, the Society will be happy to stake your ticket back. That's my word, and you know I'm good for it. I've reserved a seat on the Okimoro for you, and plan to meet you when you arrive out by Dock 94 at Drifter's End.
~Venture Agent Duravor Kreel
That message was sent to you several days ago: just long enough to make any last minute preparations and board the transport. Your reasons why you decided to leave everything for a job are your own. Perhaps you have already joined the Starfinders, need a few extra bucks, or wish to quench your thirst for adventure. Either way, you ended up in a small cabin with five other strangers, headed for the Station.
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The entity known as z45719 sits by himself in the shuttle, largely silent on much of the trip, listening to and logging chatter around him as he waits for the trip to finish.
Observers see a tall humanoid, over two meters and powerfully built (in this case literally). He is dressed in well worn brown fatigues, pockets filled with useful gear. Beside his seat a similarly worn and brown pack sits with a laser rifle leaning in the crook of the seat and wall.
His bald head is unadorned, pale skin appearing to be organic, if unhealthy looking. His eyes are pure white, though from his movements it is obvious he can see just fine. Pale forearms are visible under rolled up sleeves and, in addition to the light blue, glowing, circuit patterns marking him an Android, much of his visible arms and neck are covered in tattos depiticting myriad spacer, military, geometric and ... pirate? iconography.
z45719 idly wonders what this opportunity would bring. He barely recalled the dwarf of the message, and couldn't precisely recall where and when he crossed paths with this starfinder. He was hardly surprised as it had been nearly a century since he walked off the corporate black mine he was created to dig, since that day he had been across the stars serving on one starship or another as a mechanic, pilot or hired gun, until he was reasonably certain no one was looking for him any longer. He wasn't the only android who had escaped and not many of the overseers had survived the revolt, plus human lives were short and one hundred years was a pretty long time by their reckoning.
Still he felt some small trepidation at the exposure a place like Absalom Station and the higher profile Starfinders would bring. Then again, after so long, simply existing as a cog one one of so many space freighters was getting boring .
It was time for a change.
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Pippimi rolls around the shuttle, knocking on doors, greeting everyone she comes across. With bright, electric blue fur, huge violet-colored eyes, and six eternally active arms, the two-and-a-half foot tall Pippimi is a bundle of skittermander energy. In contrast with her race's occasional disregard for protective clothing, she wears a business-like black and white pinafore and specially modified sweater with six sleeves.
A particularly observant viewer may also notice that the handheld comm at her waist is branded with a Blastwerks logo, labeling her as a corporate representative of the assemble-it-yourself weapons manufacturer of the same name located in the Veskarium.
The message from Duravor had come to an old friend of his within the company, one who had passed away the previous year in a freak explosives accident. While the company had thought to simply send a culturally relevant conciliatory message(TM) to the dwarf Starfinder, Pippimi volunteered to go meet the dwarf directly. After all, Blastwerks had poor market penetration in the Pact Worlds and securing a lucrative supply contract with the Starfinder Society would be a massive boon. Within the day, she convinced her higher ups in the marketing department to allow her leave to pursue the business opportunity, and by the following morning she was already en-route to catch the Okimoro before it left for Absalom Station.
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As she comes across z45719, she pulls herself to her full height and puts a pair of arms on her hips while she reaches upwards with the other ones. "Hi-hello-nice-to-meetchu! This is Pippimi! You smell like adventure fight-y sort! Can Pippimi interest you in free sample?" She reaches for a pouch at her hip and pulls out a small package emblazoned with colorful explosions. "You want to bang? Pippimi give you pak pak sample!" She pushes it into Z's hands before rolling away. The package is labeled:
BLASTWERKS! Assemble-it-Yourself Tactical Autopistol!
>Follow the easy steps on the back of the box, and you too can becomes a weapons all-star with this FREE!!! trial-size single-use pistol assembly product!<
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As trip proceeds, Lenny finds he can't really keep to himself without going stir-crazy. He's a social creature by nature, he has a lot of ideas, and he loves sharing them with people.
A barely-middle-aged man with a stylish beard pops by more than once to introduce himself, say "hi", but more importantly talk with you about why you took this job and what you've been up to beforehand. He exudes a not-fully-self-aware type of confidence.
He listens attentively, but also offers more than a tidbit of advice along the way. Maybe too much. But no matter, for the time being he seems harmless. His clearly well-intended, helpful demeanor puts you at ease and helps you settle in to hear his stories of meandering through life up to this point. The random horrible jokes and puns that he likes to pepper throughout his conversation further reinforce that this man is, in fact, not going to (and likely is not capable of) play you for any advantage. You get the feeling you might need to watch out for him though.
Most of all he wants you to know about his keen business sense. "The problem is, the man's always keeping me down! You can't fight Absalom station politics, when they up-zone the area around your business and the big companies come in and stomp you!" There was the computer-building business that was crushed by an order of personal comm units, stylized for the release of some pop artist's new record, which he couldn't fill in time. Now he's stuck with boxfulls of pink comm units with creepy holographic eyes that follow you as you look at it. There was the mercenary's guild he tried to join, but they had all manner of military style rules to impose conformity, including shaving off his beard and mustache. "They wanted to take my mojo!" he exclaims. He was a fit guy though, always dedicating time to improve his body. So, he found a workable calling opening up a gym, Pilates of the Caribbean. He smiles and snickers, awaiting your response to the clever name. "Wait, you've never heard of the Caribbean? I mean, I've never been there, and honestly I don't know if it even exists. Stories and legends I've been told describe a different type of pirate ship floating on water, instead of in deep space. I mean, don't ask me for details man, I just thought the imagery and theme was cool!" In between these are many more stories of failed businesses and fewer stories of failed relationships.
After barely catching his breath he turns back to you, and asks "So, how do you know Duravor?"
He tells these stories multiple times, in varying orders, to each crew member he meets over a couple of days.
The android's white eyes focus on the small ball of .... whatever.
What is this small creature? I have not yet encountered such as this
Before he even finished his thought and made a conscious decision, his exocortex pulled the answer from reference information.
Skittermander, fascinating
"Greetings, designat...." he starts but tge small creature had bounded away before he could finish, leaving a pointless piece of marketing garbage in his hands. "signation z45719, colloquially referred to as Zulu. I do not require your sample." he finishes pointlessly, placing the free sample thing in his pack for future study.
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Pippimi hangs around Lenny long enough for the fellow to get a bit of complaining out of his system. The moment he offers a tiny gap, she interjects with "Hi-hi-hi! This is Pippimi! Pippimi very sad to hear you have so much trouble, Bad-Luck-Man. Don't give up mojo! Mojo very important!!!"
"If gym not work, Pippimi have great offer for you! Bad-Luck-Man can be franchisee! Blastwerks always looking for good big energy salespeople! Here, Pippimi give you sample!" She rummages in her pack and pulls out a second assemble-it-yourself autopistol sample and presses it into Lenny's hands.
"Product very good! Try! Pippimi guarantee!" She gives him four thumbs up.
Most theologians and spacefarers alike would agree that if the plane of Hell were to somehow find a foothold on the material plane, three days trapped in a commercial shuttle with a goblin would probably be a close approximation to it (for both the fellow passengers and the goblin alike.) And yet one boards the Okimoro, glancing around with a big grin... before quietly stowing his Azimuth Rifle and meager pack. With vibrant green skin and glowing red eyes, the he seems like a typical physical specimen of his kind, yet he shows remarkable restraint, somehow resisting the urge to immediately dismantle and reassemble parts of the ship instead drawing out a small electrician's kit (the kind that ysoki use to entertain their younglings.) And though you can almost -feel- the energy radiating out of his small frame and catch sight of occasional furtive glances full of mischief bordering on mayhem, he remains a well-behaved member of the crew.
When introductions begin, he smiles and cheerfully exclaims, "Heya, I'm Clank Zappow!, electrician for hire." He draws a few business cards out of his flight-suit, clearly embossed with an image of the goblin's smiling face beaming with the exact same pose and large smile he currently is wearing. The card has the feeling of almost being an I.D. card, as if to assure incredulous beings that he was, in fact, being serious. Framing the picture are the words above and "Electrician for hire: No Job Too Big, No Explosion Too Small" below. In smaller letters near the bottom edge it states, "Electrical Work, Explorations, Explosions, Childrens Parties."
To Lenny he responds, "Pilates of the Carribean? Is this your theme song?" he presses a couple buttons on his wrist and plays a ghost sound. "If not, it should be!"
When greeted by Pippimi he thinks And I thought -I- had energy. He shows genuine interest in the auto-pistol's construction, but points to the rifle and adds, "Thanks, but I'm more of the longarms kind of goblin!" Looking around, he adds thoughfully, "We seem to have a shipful of entrepenuers."
He politely avoids sharing his thoughts about how he could probably increase Zulu's power output with just a few tweaks, possibly rerouting more throughput through a personality circuit. Instead he merely introduces himself, and adds "So I guess we all are here for the same job?"
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When going into unknown situations Zoran does his best to blend in spending some time working on his disguise. Ensuring he is up before his cabin mates and heading to whatever room he finds with a lock to take great pain to ensure it is up to snuff.
To most eyes Zoran appears a typical 7 foot tall Kasathan of dark grey skin and eyes blacker than the expanse of space. He dresses in a borderline formal set of black and crimson fatigues that fit his lean frame as if tailored. His stride shows no hint of old age or injury but his cane is always with him.
He spends the days speaking with the crew and travelers about their days spent among the stars. There is genuine interest in their stories but when they speak of misfortunes his tone switches subconsciously to one of pessimism.
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Inside his cabin he introduces himself to the others with enthusiasm after Lennny mentions his contact.
"Zoran Turble Hasur Duvahl of House Rokatin. Well, I used to go by that...I prefer just Zoran now. That is unfortunate about your last businesses. Too often people aren't looking in the right direction to help those who need it most...they end up dead or lost. I digress...you were sent here by Duravor too? Must be all of us sharing that room. The dwarf hired me to guide a few trips through more dangerous parts of the Pact Worlds and allowed me to bring along some pilgrims. A good deal. What about you Lenny?"
When the space goblin joins the conversation he smiles a bit now knowing that he wouldn't be the only one taking side-eyes and hushed insults if his disguise ever fails. There is some respect or solace in something that likely knew some of the hardships endured and is clearly taking it in stride.
"It does seem that we are an enterprising bunch. Energetic too. Did you receive the ridiculously vague message as well? Any idea the job we signed up for, Clank?"
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Hearing the exchange between the small Skittermander and Android he approaches as the small creature rolls away. He waves not sure if it saw but knew it would visit him soon as well.
"Z45719? Can I take a seat here to rest these old bones?"
He doesn't wait for a response before sitting down and extending a hand to shake before introducing himself.
"A shorter designation may prove helpful."
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Pippimi hangs around Lenny long enough for the fellow to get a bit of complaining out of his system. The moment he offers a tiny gap, she interjects with "Hi-hi-hi! This is Pippimi! Pippimi very sad to hear you have so much trouble, Bad-Luck-Man. Don't give up mojo! Mojo very important!!!"
"If gym not work, Pippimi have great offer for you! Bad-Luck-Man can be franchisee! Blastwerks always looking for good big energy salespeople! Here, Pippimi give you sample!" She rummages in her pack and pulls out a second assemble-it-yourself autopistol sample and presses it into Lenny's hands.
"Product very good! Try! Pippimi guarantee!" She gives him four thumbs up.
"Well! How do you like that? A fellow entrepreneur. I still have high hopes for my gym, Pippi! It's doing just good enough so that I've hired an assistant to run it while I'm gone. It does just break even... But I thank you for this!"
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To Lenny he responds, "Pilates of the Carribean? Is this your theme song?" he presses a couple buttons on his wrist and plays a ghost sound. "If not, it should be!"
"Well, usually the patrons like their own workout music, but I suppose we could do something like this for advertising. I don't think it fits in the budget at this moment, but maybe you can be my creative department after all this is over? We'll fit you for an eye-patch!"
Inside his cabin he introduces himself to the others with enthusiasm after Lennny mentions his contact.
"Zoran Turble Hasur Duvahl of House Rokatin. Well, I used to go by that...I prefer just Zoran now. That is unfortunate about your last businesses. Too often people aren't looking in the right direction to help those who need it most...they end up dead or lost. I digress...you were sent here by Duravor too? Must be all of us sharing that room. The dwarf hired me to guide a few trips through more dangerous parts of the Pact Worlds and allowed me to bring along some pilgrims. A good deal. What about you Lenny?"
"Well, he came into my gym asking about Jazzercizing or some such thing. Must be a dwarf thing. This vague message causes me to believe there's a whole lot of interesting stuff about the guy I don't know! Given how my businesses have worked out, I thought I may as well give this career a shot in parallel!"
The android nods at Zoran as the kasathan sits next to him, taking the offered hand with another nod and an approximation of a smile. He felt no pleasure in meeting new beings, especially when so many have come and gone in his years, but protocol expected an attempt at cordially, so he had spent some time in front of mirrors attempting to copy what a human smile would look like.
His effort is mediocre at best.
"Shorthand designation of Zulu has sufficed in the past, that will work today as well."
Then, having logged that the others all seemed to have been contacted by the same dwarf and odds were good that these individuals my consist of his next crew, so to speak, and therefore he should partake in the infosharing.
"I also was contacted by this dwarf with a cryptic message. I do not recall meeting him but surmise he must have been a passenger on one of the ships I have crewed. His offer fascinated, so here I am."
Thinking about the conversations he heard earlier, he adds "I have no entropanurial interests, but I am a capable pilot, mechanic and computer specialist. I am passing fair with a gun and a trained medic."
With that he falls silent.
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After an uneventful trek, the shuttle settles into the dock of Absalom Station with a small robotic voice intoning, ”Docking Bay 94. Please ensure that you have retrieved all belongings prior to departure.”
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.
You see your contact, Kreel, waiting for you in the middle of the docking bay. With his patched and stained coveralls, the dwarf looks like just another dockworker, but a badge bearing the symbol of the Starfinder Society stands out on his chest. Kreel checks the computer he’s holding and looks up to scan the crowd. When he sees the group, he raises a hand in greeting and gives you a friendly smile.
Davrin, Zoran, Zulu, and Clank all notice two groups of people on the fringes of the docking bay furtively taking up defensive positions among stacks of cargo crates and machinery.
Before you can return the greeting, however, the air is suddenly filled with laser blasts as a half dozen of the rougher looking docking bay occupants open fire on each other. Bystanders scream and flee in terror, diving for cover or milling about frantically.
The two groups of men clearly seem intent on each other, however in the initial volley an errant bolt of scarlet from the east crew hits Kreel and the dwarf collapses to the ground. Additionally, a stray shot from the right side of the room whizzes past Zulu’s head but misses, thankfully.
Laser fire flies across the room as the thugs unload on each other. Several of the men take laser blasts to the chest, leaving scorches on their dirty armor. Most of the shots collide with the luggage, crates, and vehicles the men are crouching behind. Oddly enough, amidst the chaos, the only people not running away are you and your shuttle companions.
SURPRISE ROUND
Zoran
Davrin
Z45719
Clank
Right Side
Orange - 8 dmg
Left Side
White - 2 dmg
Purple - 5 dmg
Pippimi
Lenny
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Zulu scans the huge crowds in the docking bay, slightly taken aback by so many people. In his long years plying the starlanes he took care to stay aboard at the major stations and had forgotten just how many beings resided at Absalom Station.
Pushing through his discomfort he walks into the bay, seeing the dwarf standing in a small space amidst the bussle of activity.
As he starts to stride in that direction he is stopped by a warning klaxon in his mind.
WARNING. Nearby detected 6 individuals taking offensive positions. Recommend combat precaution, 90% chance violence breaks out in 3 .. 2.
Before his exocortex can finish warning him, he is already rushing to cover with a shouted.
"Take cover, violence imminent!"
His words are proved true as laser fire fills the bay, including one shot that would have scorched his hair, had he any.
Non impact. Evasive maneuver successful. Too close, you should have reacted 27% faster.
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"Oh, and Pippimi not entrepreneur! Pippimi middle-manager on expenses covered field assignment! Very cushy." She wiggles her eyebrows smugly.
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Pippimi isolates Zoran at some point in the trip and greets him with a "Hiya-hi Zoran! Pippimi is happy to meet you too! Tour guide is very good profession to see universe. Pippimi not see much until now, so Pippimi will look to you for wisdoms!"
As Pippimi rolls out of the shuttle, she raises two hands in greeting to the dwarf "Hullo Duravor! We are he-" She's cut off by the exchange in laser fire.
She reacts with an audible squawk of alarm at Duravor dropping and the docking bay exploding into deadly action. "Pippimi not expect Absalom Station to be hotbed of crime and villainy. She not dressed for this!"
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"Kreel!" Davrin wrote in his message back. "Boy, it has been a long time, hasn't it? Why, the last time we met is 4 months ago, up on that Castrovelian moon. Man, that night does bring back memories. But seems like this time you need my help in a more... professional matter. *grin* Sure. Your stories of the Society intrigued me. Let's see what I can do. Will be on that ship. Looking foward to seeing you soon. And perhaps, more than just 'seeing'..."
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On the ship, Davrin rather enthusiastically circulates around and meets everyone. You never know when business might come, and one thing Davrin has learnt in his work is to never judge anyone by their appearances. Even goblins. Or big ball of blue fur.
"Greetings," he introduces to each with a charming, roguish smile. "Name's Davrin Emalon, halfling extraordinaire. Skilled in many things that need a set of deft hands and fingers. Getting to areas out of reach. Bringing your ship to places hard to reach. Scratching that itch that is hard to reach, if you know what I mean..." Again, that roguish grin.
Over the three days in the Drift, you notice occasionally that eye patch over the left eye, sometimes over the right...
"No!" Davrin yells out when he sees the dwarf falling to the hail of fire. The halfling races forward towards the cover of the crates, trying to get close to Kreel to see how he is.
"The wonderful safety of Absalom Station." Zoran says with a sigh while moving to cover as the gunfight breaks out.
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"The wonderful safety of Absalom Station."
Zulu grunts at Zoran's gripe, "An old soldier once told me "The Galaxy is a dumpster fire. A hot, stinking dumpster fire." he stops for a moment, reflecting.
"I lack proper olfactory sensors to truly appreciate it, but have not yet seen evidence to dispute this. In my many years."
Although Clank was on his bestest behavior throughout the flight, he looks visibly relieved when the shuttle settles down and began its disembarkment procedures. With one final resentful look at the automated headrest that he was -sure- he could have modified to be suitable for goblin height, he shakes his head and trundles out with the rest of the group.
Whether from nostalgia or the burning scent of laserblasts around him, the state of Absalom Station's Docking Bay brings a tear to Clank's eye. The goblin sighs fondly, murmuring in a voice barely audible over the various screams and errant blasts, "Aww, it's just like I left it!" Then with a wide toothy grin he dashes out to cover to join in the fun of the brawl, eager to relieve some pent up mayhem. Unslinging his Azimuth Rifle, he glances around at the firefight before piping up to his newly-met friends, "The first rule of joining a brawl you didn't start: pick the winning side!"
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The thrown together group dives, or rolls, for cover as screams fill the air! Citizens are running away from the scene, towards the scene, into the ships, into the manholes, and just plain standing still. But the chaos doesn’t stop the gunfight!
Laser shots fill the air, many of whom connect with their targets! The left side of the room erupts in grunts as all three men are hit by firepower. The right side is luckier, with only one thug getting hit while the other two crouch below the luggage. Perhaps part of this luck can be claimed by Clank as he deflects a laser blast with his shoulder armor! The pistol must be running low on battery, because it barely leaves a mark. Judging by the lack of racial slurs following the shot, you can guess the hit was due more to poor aim than any particular vehemence.
Taking a better look at the two sides, you may recognize them from a holo-vid.
The left side’s blue bandanas and numeric tattoos identify them as the Level 21 Crew. The Level 21 Crew are a street gang that claims (unsurprisingly) Level 21 of Absalom Station’s seedy lower decks as its territory. Their known criminal endeavors include theft, fencing stolen goods, gambling, prostitution, racketeering, and smuggling.
The right side’s green leather jackets and crown brandings identify them as the Downside Kings. The Downside Kings are a brutal street gang that controls several decks of Absalom Station’s lower levels, or “Downside,” through a combination of intimidation and violence. They are known to engage in a wide variety of illegal activities, from extortion, fraud, robbery, smuggling, and theft, to drug and arms trafficking, kidnapping, murder-for hire, and trafficking in sentient species.
The two groups don't seem to notice that you are the only ones not running. They seem to be more concerned with killing their rivals. Duravor's body lies limp on the metal grating.
Zoran
Davrin
Z45719
Clank
Pippimi
Lenny
Blue- 8 dmg
White - 3 dmg
Red -
Green - 5 dmg
Purple- 5 dmg
Orange- 7 dmg
Zulu pops his head above his cover, such as it is, and takes the room in at a quick glance. His exocortex hurriedly notes and catalogues each opponent, calculating probabilities spitting put a firing solution and combat order suggestion.
Target designate Orange. High probability of acceptable firing solutions, recommend target.
Zulu mentally nods and focuses on the new target as his vision is flooded with statistical indicators, prediction probabilities and suggested firing solutions.
Long practiced at parsing and utilizing what could, for most, be crippling visual overstimulation, Zulu snaps his rifle to shoulder and fires.
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Lenny stands there amid the chaos realizing he's the last one to take cover. It all happened so fast. He runs over behind the barrels with Zulu, Clank, and Pippimi.
"I don't know who this gang on the left is, but these damn kids on the right are from the Downside Kings. Of course they control several deck levels on the Downside. As you can imagine, what they do there is not on the up-and-up. Robbery. Smuggling. Plain theft. They don't make it easy for honest business-folk like myself. Thankfully that's not where my gym resides, but I can imagine. Property taxes or gangs? Hard to choose."
It's just then that you notice the faint white ball of light, about the size of a tennis ball, circling his head. He reaches up and grabs it, and as he pulls his hand down by his side a glowing white sword of light appears in his hand where the ball of light was before.
Clank immediately recognizes the two opposing forces, yelling out, "It's the L21 Crew and the Dockside Kings!" Being a resident of some of the seedier parts of Absalom Station, he'd had experience with both, and while he mostly mostly respected the Crew for their good unclean fun, there was something about the Kings that made him grind his teeth. The Dockside was -not- a safe place for goblinoids; ones that ventured into their turned left in cages or as corpses. He adds in a hopefully helpful, "The Kings are slavers and worse!" Going against his rule of picking fights, he is about to line up a shot at one of the Kings... before a laser blast coming from the Level 21 side of the brawl burns into the side of the crate he's taking cover by. Yelling out, "Hey, watch it!" he sighs and decides that he could deal with the Kings later; right now a little more firepower is needed to finish the fight fast before they got caught in the crossfire.
With gesture that gathers in nascent energy from the smoldering blaster shots, he redirects the force into a trio of Magic Missles that he launches towards the one ganger that almost hit him in a brilliant display of force.
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As Lenny dives for cover and summons the light of the universe, Zulu takes in the scene. With a single well placed shot from his laser rifle, his targeted thug gives a sigh and falls to the ground. His body is mostly hidden behind a large crate but you can see a foot. And it’s not moving. Suddenly, a fusillade of shining missiles flies from the tiny green form beside you. Whether the bolts of force came from his little green fingers, his devilish smile, or his techno-gadgets, you may never know.
Zoran
Davrin
Pippimi
Z45719
Lenny
Clank
Blue- 8 dmg
White - 3 dmg
Red -
Green - 5 dmg
Purple- 15 dmg
Orange- 14 dmg
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Pippimi looks from side to side in concern as the bodies start to drop. "Kings sound like they very bad for business and Level 21s not much better. What side we on? What side Dura on? Pippimi going to go sort this out." Pippimi rolls forwards, drawing her doshko out of her pack in the process and gripping it with two hands.
She raises a free paw and taps the thug a couple of times on his or her butt. "You won fight already, Pippimi here to ask some questions. Pippimi not with Level 21s so you can relax."
"We are on the side that doesn't appreciate poor shots in an area crowded with civilians. Which is bad for all of these vultures." Zoran replies while pulling out his pistol and firing at the closer thug.
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Davrin hears the exchange back and forth amongst his shipmates, but his eyes is wholly focused on the unmoving form of the dwarf. True, Duravor was just one of his many past clients but these encounters create a bond that binds. Disregarding the shots that are still flying back and forth, Davrin races forward to check on the fallen Kreel, despite that leaving him wide open.
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The closest Downside King thug feels a tap on his butt. He looks over his shoulder with a sarcastic smile, "A bit early for a 'Good game' slap, isn't i..." His look turns confused as he sees the fluffy blue lady dressed for a summer day beside him. The flaming doshko probably doesn't help either. Quickly, irritation overwhelms the confusion, aided by another laser blast hitting the luggage train. "I appreciate the offer, lady, but I'm a bit busy here!" He turns and takes a shot over the luggage, offering a final remark. "And put that doshko away before you hurt yourself, fluffy!"
Meanwhile, Zoran send a laser through a slot in the crates, piercing the armor of the last Level 21 Crew member. He cries out in pain, but his resolve is firm.
Davrin approaches the body only to find a hole burned entirely through the poor dwarf's neck. By the large pool of blood beneath him, it is obvious that no medicine could help Duravor.
The gangs continue their turf war, sending trails of fire across the square. One, distracted by the odd furry lady behind him, mis-aims and send it towards Clank the friendly goblin! Once again Clank is saved, possibly by divine intervention, as he bends over at the perfect time. The other two thugs are not so easily distracted and send the last Level 21 Crew member into the dirt.
The Downside Kings cheer and begin heading over to steal their enemy's equipment. However, a siren begins to scream in the distance as the Port Authority finally gets close. They look from side-to-side and decide no battery was worth going to jail over. They run off, with one stopping by Pippimi on the way. "See you on the Downside, if you're interested." He gives the Skittermander a wink and runs off.
Green - 21 dmg
Purple- 15 dmg
Orange- 14 dmg
Sweeping out from cover, rifle watching the second gang flee, perfectly willing to allow them to get away without incident the android flows towards the downed dwarf.
Seeing the threat ended he fastwalks to the dwarf and halfling, slinging his rifle and reaching for his medical pack.
"I am trained in combat medicine, what do we have here?"
He asks as he approaches, critical eye and exocortex quickly surmising he was too late, regardless he kneels by the fallen dwarf to verify his death.
"Pippimi not offering anything, but asking you to stop fighting and start answering questions!" With two arms crossed, Pippimi frowns at the blue thug continuing to fight rather than answering her properly. " Pippimi deal with unruly underling vesk much more ripped than you every day in office back home!"
As soon as her turn comes back up, she attempts to grapple the blue thug, moving first if necessary to get to him.
The grappled or pinned condition lasts until the end of your next turn, unless you renew it on your next turn with another grapple combat maneuver. The condition ends immediately if you move away. As long as you have one target grappled or pinned, you cannot attempt to grapple another. The grappled and pinned conditions are further detailed in Conditions.
When you renew a grapple, you can remove one item from the target’s body that can be easily accessed, including most weapons and equipment (but not worn armor). Doing so immediately ends the grapple.
With surprising swiftness, Pippimi jumps up and puts one paw on his jugular while the others sweep his arms out of the way. With a crash of momentum she brings him to the ground and sits on him with his arms trapped beneath his body. "No worry mister. Pippimi take good care of you and let you go after you answer questions! Maybe even put good word in for you with Security." The bright blue Skittermander smiles disarmingly. This isn't the first time she's had to do this.
Once verifying that the dwarf is beyond his help, Zulu will move to Orange ostensibly checking if the man is dead, but his primary motivation is to attempt to recover his laser pistol, as it is too valuable to leave around.
If the thug is still breathing he will render aid to stabilize, and continue on to the other fallen thugs until the authorities arrive.
If any of them manage to live I am interested to know if they intended to kill our dwarf or not
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Pippimi is not messing around, using a brutal takedown on the King. He goes down like a sack of bricks, and his buddies don't even look back as they run down an alley.
His face is pale and he quickly stops squirming for the pistol he had holstered moments before. "What do you want, crazy lady?! " His eyes are wide, desperate.
Meanwhile, Zulu verifies that Duravor died of a laser blast to the neck, where he was not wearing armor. Making his way around the Level 21 crew, he verifies that they are also dead. On each of their bodies you find an Azimuth Laser Pistol with 15 charges and a small cred stick with 150 credits.
Oh great...now people are going to think I am with the Downside Kings. Need to fix that.
Zoran turns heel and heads towards the others as the sirens start to blare. He grits his teeth and calls out to the other thugs.
"Typical cowards that only prey on the weak then flee when a real threat arrives." he says with a biting tone but then realizes Pippimi has one pinned and rushes to assist.
This situation does not look good and they are likely to be suspects in this scuffle so he holsters his weapon as he comes upon the duo.
"Our troubles are just beginning when station security arrives. If we don't want to be suspects we need to make sure this worm doesn't squirm free. Then again if you do start to run I can make you understand the fear and pain you have caused to innocent bystanders." Zoran says to Pippimi before addressing the thug.
Clank momentarily thanks his Sky Goblin benefactors for emerging the conflict unscathed, then quickly rushes over to loot the bodies before Absalom Station Security arrives. He does make the Pistols are pawned off to one of his compatriots (Zulu?) so as not to add more questions than necessary when the inevitable scrutiny focuses on him.
When Security does arrive, he sits on a crate nonchalantly, smiling and doing his best "I'm innocent" look practiced over a lifetime of being on the bad side of overzealous patrolmen. On the plus side, I can legitimately say I didn't fire a single shot!
Pippimi notices that Zulu has confirmed Duravor's demise and shakes her head in frustration before looking at Zoran. "No worry Zoran! This one is going to help now!" She looks down at the thug.
"If you guilty of something bad, you not have much time to answer question before Security arrive. What happen here? Why shootout start when Dura out in open? Why Dura get shot so badly? You know, right? Pippimi appreciate much if you answer."
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Lenny lets his solar sword dissipate and walks over to Pippimi.
"Not bad fuzzball! Next time I want to watch and see how you did this!"
He leans down by the pinned gang member.
"I think you ought to answer the lady's questions if you want to get out of here before security arrives. What're you boys fighting over today?"
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Zulu and Davrin, looking at Duravor's belongings, find little other than his computer. Using his thumb you are able to unlock the computer, which has a file open. The dossier contains the name, photo and description of each of those present, as well as one unread email. The sender's name is Chiskisk, and the note only contains the address of the Lorespire Complex, the Starfinder Society’s headquarters on the station.
Meanwhile, the rest of the team jumps on the lone King. He spits into Pippimi's fur, his face angry. "I ain't did nothing wrong! They started it!" However, something about Zoran scares the man. He lays still, then stutters out, "It was Ferani! Ferani Nadaz, our boss! She told us the Level 21 Crew got a new boss to replace Jabaxa." He looks around, trying to find a way out. Seeing none, he continues. "We were supposed to take him out, to send a message!" He smirks. "Typical 21's, couldn't protect their own boss." Then, aware of the trouble he was in, he backpedals. "She made the call! Go see her about it! Uhh... the Fusion Queen, that's our club, where she hangs out." You don't have much time to respond, as station security finally arrives, shouting, ”DROP YOUR WEAPONS!” Too late to join the fight, they set up a perimeter and come right towards the group. Emergency medical services follow a few minutes later to assist the injured, giving your team a once over, before moving to bystanders that somehow received more wounds while not participating in the fight.
Brandishing recently fired weapons and surrounded by bodies, your group seems to be of intense interest from Security personnel. Several security officers come up to the group. "Caught us a fish! King, you don't belong up here with the nice folk!" They motion Pippimi to get off the man, and put him in handcuffs immediately.
The other officers look at the bodies, then at the group. A few pull taclashes and head straight towards Clank, anger in their eyes. The others pull handcuffs and look at the rest of the group suspiciously. A hard-looking vesk detective swaggers up. "Three dead 21's, a dead civilian, an apprehended King, and six nobodies in combat gear. Y'all got some explaining to do." He briefly glances at the officers about to "secure" the goblin and looks back at the group, no reaction.
Zulu slowly stands and raises his hands as security finally manages to arrive just in time to sweep up the bodies.
as usual I'm sure
Stepping away from the corpse and the opened medical kit laying next to him, he calmly states.
"Just deboarded the Okimoro. Caught in fire fight between 2 gangs. Didn't feel like getting shot so we ended it. Attempted to render aid. Query shuttle pilot, witnesses and cameras. The goblin did not participate."
As he stands, his exocortex continues to survey and calculate.
From body language, calculate 70% chance to be arrested, 87% chance to be subsequently released. Space goblin stands 95% chance of taking a beating, regardless. Recommend preparing to render first aid.
"The information is appreciated. Have fun in jail." Zoran says as the shaken thug spills the beans.
When the security he points them towards the thug but their attitude puts him on edge as he unholsters his pistol so it falls to the ground. Then he rests on his cane till he sees the guards motion towards Clank.
No, not allowing someone to get attacked for no reason when I can step in.
"Stop. You are going to harass a person who helped break up a gang fight and apprehended one of the gangsters. That raises many problems for all involved when currently we are more than willing to cooperate." Zoran says stepping in front of the security guards a tight grip on his cane.
Pippimi releases the thug and gets off him, brushing herself off and getting spit out of her fur. "Pippimi not understand very well mister, but it sound like you try to attack and kill Dura. That not good for Pippimi, or for Pippimi's company. But if Dura really gang leader, then Pippimi was almost tricked into very bad deal, so maybe thank you for information!" Pippimi clearly isn't sure what to believe out of the thug's admissions, but the fellow's nasty attitude has definitely not endeared him to her.
She stows her unblemished, unused doshko, turning to wave at Station Security as they approach. "Zulu is right misters! We leave ship and find Absalom Station is like set of Mad Maxie holovid! We run for cover or defend selves. Lasers everywhere." She puts two of her paws on her hips "Pact Worlds capital much more dangerous for business traveler than Pippimi expect. Nothing like Veskarium." She takes out a napkin to clean off where some of the thug's spit got on her dress, confident that she's on the right side of things here with the Station's Security force.
Clank recognizes the name 'Chiskisk' (although he isn't sure he can make his goblin lips pronounce it correctly. He decides that it's information that can be saved for quieter times, however. Such as when there wasn't a very real danger that he might land in Jail, or worse.
The little goblin is more than a little stunned that semi-strangers would come to his aid; Security was clearly looking for a scapegoat and it would be fair easier for them to pin everything on him than stick up for him. He looks around confused and waiting for the other Power-shoe to drop, but when none seem evident he shrugs. "Yeah, I didn't fire a shot!" Technically true "These guys started shooting at us! If I was a little taller, two would have shot me! I'm sure you can check security footage." He carefully bites his tongue to avoid asking if that is too difficult for them. That *would* probably land him in a cell.
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Lenny briskly steps over to Clank as the security forces begin to approach him.
"Now see here, we've already stated that our goblin friend here didn't fire any shots. So why don't you leave him be and we'll cooperate with the rest of your questions. You got body cameras on that armor?"
He moves to stand between Clank and the guards, attempting to steal their gaze and distract them from the goblin.
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The officers pause a few feet away from Clank, as if waiting for him to run. The group's defense of the goblin gives them pause, however, and they look towards the Vesk in charge. The detective looks over at the goblin and squints. To himself, he mutters, "Huh. Normally they do somethin stupid by now. " He turns back to Pippimi and nods. Aye, there's nothing quite like home. " He snaps his fingers and a flunkie being a him a datapad. "Here's the footage, sir. " After a few minutes of review, he grunts. "While you were a little over zealous in your response, you jumped in and stopped a firefight between some dirty folk. Thank you. " He hands the pad back and looks at the dwarf's body. " That feller waved at you. Know him? "
"Well, my boys tell me he's a Starfinder. They take care of their own, so we'll be sending him and his belongings to the Lorespire Complex. " He turns to go speak with some officers, but pauses. He looks at the goblin again. "Well boys, I guess this ones alright. At least for today. " With that, the officers reluctantly holster their lashes and take a few steps back, eyeing Clank suspiciously.
You are free to go, as the officers seem more intent on clean up than taking this to court.
Zulu relaxes and, when security gives them the clear, bends to start gathering his medical supplies and repack them, securing his looted laser pistols in the pack as well.
At the question about the dwarf, he simply reponds. "We were to meet him. We will have to push on to the lorespire for contract."
When the rest of the group is gathered and read he asks, "Commute together?"
Zoran breathes easy after he is sure there won't be more conflict at least not at this location. He walks over to the others.
"I think that is for the best, Zulu. It is our only lead and we will be safer in a group."
Pippimi waves goodbye to the vesk detective and looks up at Zoran and Zulu. "So Dura really Starfinder after all? Then gangs tricked into shooting him by this Ferani? Pippimi not really understand how or why, but know that Society will want to know! She come too. Maybe business deal can be salvaged."
Pippimi taps away at her comms to attempt to access the local Info-sphere and look up information on this Lorespire Complex place.
Clank continues to hold his guileless grin until the Security is out of earshot, then slumps down a bit, shaking his head. "Huh. That was the first time I've ever escaped spending a night in the 'airlock' after an incident, even if I wasn't responsible. You guys are alright, you know that?"
At the talk of Starfinders, Clank chimes in, "'Chis-what-his-name'is a Starfinder bigshot. Maybe they know something about what was going on here? I wouldn't trust the word of a King as far I could zap 'em... which is about this far." He pantomimes stretching out his small arms and waggling his fingers as if he was casting a spell.
"As for commuting... they might not let you use public transit with me around. But it's certainly worth a shot!"
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With a quick net-search, Pippimi find directions to the Lorespire Complex as well as a short description. THE LORESPIRE COMPLEX! HOME OF THE STARFINDERS! CONVENIENTLY LOCATED IN ABSALOM STATION’S RING SECTOR! THE CAMPUS CONTAINS MULTIPLE MODERN BUILDINGS AND LUXURIOUS ROOMS FOR THE USE OF STARFINDER AGENTS! THOUGH, ITS SPIRE IS WHAT PEOPLE WITH THE STARFINDER SOCIETY’S HEADQUARTERS! JOIN THE STARFINDERS TODAY!
After a few failed attempts to hail a taxi, the group decides perhaps a less discerning driver is necessary. So, you pack into an automated hover train, and it sets off. Along the way, you can chat with surrounding passengers or use the web to look up more information on your deceased contact, Duravor Kreel.
You arrive at the magnificent complex fairly quickly, and without issue. The place is abuzz with activity, full of all sorts of races. Not a second glance is given to your odd group, even the goblin. Upon arrival, you are greeted by a pink-haired gnomish receptionist who cheerfully inquires, “Hello there. I don’t recognize you! I know everyone around here! What business do you have with the Starfinder Society today?” She beams up at you all.
Her name tag identifies her as Charli Poshkettle, Starfinder
As the group travels, Zulu helpfully taps the infosphere to aid his companions in recalling or digging any info on their dead dwarf
Arriving at the society, Zulu stands towards the back and allows the more charismatic and... organic ... of the group handle the discussions as he trys to observe everything all at once.