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As the doors to the Lorespire Complex slide open, a green holographic image of a middle-aged human woman shimmers into view at the center of the room. “Greetings,” it says. “I am Guidance. Please use the cheek swabs in the open receptacle to provide a genetic sample for Starfinder Society identification purposes. If desired, you may place your hand on the glowing panel to receive a subdermal implant further marking you as a member of the Society.”
“It is our pleasure to officially welcome you into the Starfinder Society. Today is the commencement of your new role as a Starfinder field agent. It is our tradition, at the end of the graduation ceremony, for new graduates to present themselves to the heads of our most prominent factions and complete a task at those leaders’ behest. This allows the leaders of these groups to become familiar with all new Starfinder agents, and it provides a constant supply of agents for handling situations in our holdings on Absalom Station. While these tasks were formerly symbolic, the heavy loss of Starfinder agents in the Scoured Stars necessitates that these missions become something more. Please treat any tasks given with the gravity you would grant any other Starfinder assignment.”
Guidance sends you a link to a descriptions of the factions.
"Once you complete the task, the leader will signal me and will make sure you are compensated" With that, Guidance's hologram fades out.
Culture check to know about Absalom station
Gather Information(Diplomacy) to find out whats going on at Absalom Station.
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Vandor saunters into the Lorespire Complex with a sense of familiarity. His clothes are rumpled, like he might have slept in them, and those unlucky enough to get close to him notice he reeks distinctly of booze. That, and the bags under his eyes, seem to indicate that he may have had a late night last night.
At Guidance's briefing he wordlessly swabs and places his hand on the panel for the subdermal implant. The rest of the briefing he spends fiddling with his personal comm unit. It looks like he might be taking selfies.
As the briefing ends and the party shuffles out, he looks around at the others and says "I'm going to be 100% honest here, I was barely listening in there. But I think the hologram said something about compensation. So I'm just going to follow you guys. Hopefully it doesn't take too long, it's half price bar rail night at the Fusion Queen tonight and I don't want to miss it because I'm busy getting Space cats out of trees, or whatever it is they want us to do. So, what's first??"
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The young kasatha replies: "I don't know what is first but I know that some junkrace it will happen on this station, I know Strawberry Machine Cake has a new song, and one another thing. Dangerous alien predator got loose somewhere in the Downlow district of the station. The creature is now contained in a warehouse, but not after it impaled a security officer with a harpoon-like natural projectile."
"And yes, by the way my name is Aldane."
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"Yeah I heard about the "impalien" already myself... I'm pretty well connected around here, a little bit of a big deal, a few weeks ago I basically single-handedly brought in a dangerous fugitive from Akiton. You guys probably heard all about it. Anyway the Society is just making me go through this whole Commencement thing as a formality, I assume so there's no unpleasant questions raised when I start getting promoted up the chain, ya know? It's all gotta be official or whatever." Vandor yawns.
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Making his way among the group to the console, a middle aged man, well dressed and without any apparent armor. a single sidearm hangs from his hip.
Come on Rex he says, and a small robotic dog hovers in behind him coming master he replies in a robotic voice.
Well now, what an interesting bunch we have here. he says sizing everyone up, mostly looking to ascertain what role each might fill on a mission.
he provides the necessary sample and receives the implant.
looking to Vandor, please pay attention, I don't want to spend my career explaining everything to you. but yes, you will be compensated. As for your fame, never heard of you.
turning to everyone, I am Dr. J. J. Mortimer, and this is Rex my dog
the robot dog greets everyone, greetings his ears rotating back and forth as though scanning the area. he remains hovering about 3 feet off the floor.
Once introductions are complete, Aldane appears to have gained Dr. Mortimer's interests. not much one for racing nor pop songs, however that alien creature does sound interesting. That would be a rather interesting course to take, wouldn't you all agree?
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Dressed in dull ceramic heavy armour, a full-faced helm tucked under one arm, the shirren purposefully makes his way over to the receptacle. Taking up a swab he regards it intently for a moment, his antennae trembling slightly, before popping it past his mandibles, sweeping it across the inside of his cheek and handing it over for processing.
He pauses again, longer this time, before the the glowing panel. The light from a myriad of panels shines back, reflected in the shirren's multifaceted eyes as he stands motionless, other than the twitching of his antennae. Appearing to have reached a decision, he removes a glove and places his hand on the panel to receive the implant.
Replacing the glove he turns to face the others assembled nearby, regarding them with his insectoid eyes before bowing stiffly.
"I am Chk'tarlsh," he introduces himself, mandibles moving and clicking in a manner some may find disconcerting. "Many prefer to call me Charles." he telepathically informs each of the others in turn. before returning to using his voice and click-clacking mandibles. "Thish attahck reported in Dowhnlow soundsh the mosst urgent. We should sstart there."
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"As thrilling as rushing head long into a dangerous harpoon wielding alien's lair sounds, I assume we're probably supposed to find the faction leaders and get our assignments from them. They probably want us to pick up their laundry or something, saving Absalom from deadly aliens is more of an Exo-Guardian thing."
The agents head over to the nieghborhood of Downlow. A poor but trendy looking place. This is the new home of the Exo-Guadian after the headquarters were destroyed in the Scoured Stars incident.
Garbage litters the ground around the district’s largest art park—a cement lot filled with undulating metal sculptures and covered in graffiti of grotesquely adorable creatures. The sounds of music and chatter drift over from the nearby clubs, chronically interrupted by the roar of the local gangsters’ engines. A heavily augmented host shirren is sitting on one of the park benches, eating a simple meal of cold grub-noodles and rice candy. Their antennae perk up at the tremor of approaching footsteps. “Welcome, new Starfinders! And congratulations!” the shirren’s voice telepathically projects. “My speech-name is Zigvigix, but feel free to call me Ziggy, if that would be easier for you. Have some rice candy to celebrate your graduation! Today is your big day!
“When you are ready, I have two assignments I could use assistance with. The first is to help me secure a new headquarters on Absalom Station. I’ve been in talks with our station’s protectors, the Stewards, and they were kind enough to give us ownership of a warehouse here in Downlow for that purpose! The current owners no longer want it because a vicious alien took it over and kills anyone who goes inside. Once the alien is gone and the warehouse cargo has been returned to its owners, we can start installing desks and computers, so please go in and incinerate the creature!
“My second assignment...” Zigvigix twitches their tooth barbs for a moment and then holds out a credstick. “Please buy the brand-new Strawberry Machine Cake album, Star Sugar Heartlove!!!, which is out today, and give it to Historia-7 when you see her. She is the head of the Dataphiles, so you should meet her today! I wish to do it myself, but I... I have trouble standing for long periods of time. Thank you very much!”
"We believe this creature to be a Feather Stalker. He was brought in by a smuggler. Which promptly ate him when it got the chance. A couple of my people were able to find some video footage of the incident."
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"Well met, Zigvigix," he speaks, mandibles waving. "I am Chk'tarlsh." Some prefer to call me Charles, he adds telepathically to Ziggy.
"We have heard of thish creackhture in the warehousse. We will seckhure the buildinkh for you. I am sure we can alsso dehliver thish other thinkh." Telepathically, he adds, Do your legs trouble you? Can we aid you somehow?
He joins the others around the video viewer, his compound eyes watching the footage intently. His mandibles open and a low chittering sound resonates deeps in his thorax at sight of the beast's handiwork.
"I know not of thesse... feather stalkersh." He admits at the conclusion of the footage and looks around at the others in inquiry.
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Vandor, upon receiving the assignment from Ziggy:
"Oh so you actually DO want us to hunt down the deadly harpoon alien?!... Good! I can't wait to...uh... engage it!... in battle!... and such... defending the good people of Absalom Station from all threats is my top priority. Truly this alien stands no chance against our combined might! Or I could go stand in line for the album while you guys take care of the alien, just saying,... two birds, one stone... "
Vandor, upon hearing the alien is called a "Feather Stalker":
"Haha! A feather stalker? How dangerous can anything named after feathers be?! Lol." Then he imitates a funny high pitched scared voice "Oh no! Here comes the feather stalker! It's going to tickle us to death with it's 'feather harpoons'" Some people who overheard him might think that the scared voice he was making sounded a bit like the voice of Dr. J.J. Mortimer; but those people would be crazy. Vandor would never openly mock a fellow Starfinder!
Vandor, upon watching the video footage of the feather stalker:
"By the Gods! That thing is what nightmares are made of! You actually want us to fight that thing?"
The party knows that the feather stalker can launch feather harpoon up to 40 feet. Also, every feather stalker is different and adapt to its surroundings. This one in particular has feathers that look to be coated in something.
Ziggy explains that it cost 50 credits per copy, but will be more than happy to give you the credits for the copy to give Historia-7.
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The shirren's antennae twitch as he considers."The Feather Sstalker seemsh to haff been cohntained within the warehousse. Thish album hash ssupossedly caussed quite a frenzzzy and ish ssaid to be limited. It could be quite a sspectacle to ssee."
He looks around at the others, "It mihkt be worth collecktink the album for Hisstoria-7 - and Raial - on the way to deal with the threat of the Sstalker."
The group heads over to the shopping center. They are met with a line that is several rows thick and wraps around the corner of the building. A sign posted, "Strawberry Machine Cake line starts here".
The agents join the line and wait. And wait. And Wait.
6 hours later, a commotion can be heard from the front of the line. Then mayhem ensues as people begin to push their way through the crowd.
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Having spent some of the time in line looking for the nearest weapons store to buy his grenades, Vandor is a little less fatigued by the long wait in line.
Suddenly, Vandor hears a commotion and looks behind him to see a group of people pushing through the crowd and coming right at him. "Finally, someone must recognize me from all the news reports that I'm sure there were after my Akiton mission!" he thinks to himself and he steps in front of the crowd with his arms held up and big smile on his face. "Slow down everyone, I've got plenty of time to sign all the autographs you neeeee....aaagghhh!!!" The crowd does NOT slow down, and in fact the lead fan, a particularly large female vesk, hardly takes any notice of Vandor at all as she plows him to the ground. The remainder of the crowd just tramples over poor Vandor as if he weren't even there.
As he staggers to his feet wiping dirt from his clothes he groans in pain "What in the the Great Beyond is that about? No album is worth this. Can we just go fight the feather monster now? It's gotta be less painful than this"
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Alexander amuses himself with a few video games as he stands in line. Just a few more and we'll get the album. What's the worst that could happen?
As if on cue, a wave of crowd rushes past their line and he gets swatted on the face with something - really painful. "I hope you're right about fighting the feather monster. Let's just get the album and get out of here."
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Accustomed to spending long periods of time waiting for stuff to happen, Chk'tarlsh finds the prolonged wait merely a minor irritation.
He whiles away the time by perusing the goods on display in the storefront windows (he particularly enjoys the display of the store Vandor visits), checking his personal comm and engaging in occasional conversation with his companions.
Even so, he is relieved at the break in proceedings when he first hears the commotion up ahead. He stands on his toes and cranes his neck to get a better view.
Standing his ground as the first few people make their way past, he easily avoids them or brushes them aside. Distracted by trying to see what is up ahead, Chk'tarlsh fails to anticipate the sudden surge of people around him and is caught up in the jostling press of bodies.
It takes a few moments to free himself from the crushing tide and rejoin his companions.
"Ssomethinkh seemsh wronkh." he says, antennae quivering. "I'll come with you, he telepathically messages Mortimer as he falls in behind the human and his dog.
After the few bumps and bruises sustained, the group finally gets to the front of the line and gets their copy of the album.
After retrieving the copy, the group heads down to the warehouse for the second part of the mission.
As they approach the warehouse, they are met by station security in front of a force barrier.
After checking their credentials,they are let in. The doors to the warehouse were forced open and no longer lock. The warehouse ceiling is 30 feet high, and a catwalk runs 15 feet above the floor. The crates and vehicle are approximately 5 feet tall, while the cylindrical containers and the crate-filled scaffolding are 10 feet tall.
A pit in the warehouse floor is 10 feet deep. The scattered junk on the floor creates an area of difficult terrain. The lights on the catwalk are not bright enough to illuminate the area, leaving the warehouse in dim light.
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Vandor, a little grumpy at all the trouble the group went through to get the album, passes on buying a copy for himself.
As the gang arrives at the security checkpoint at the warehouse Vandor exclaims "Never fear everyone, the Starfinders are here!" he warmly smiles and shakes the hands of the security officers and gives them hearty slaps on the back "You boys have done an outstanding job! Really. We'll take it from here though, everything's going to be just fine now. Nothing we can't handle!"
Once the party arrives at the warehouse doors however, Vandor seems nervous as he watches Aldane and Charles enter first. "Yep, you guys go first... I'll be right behind you... I swear" he pulls out his tactical semi-auto pistol in one hand and a sticky grenade in the other and reluctantly slinks in after.
Inside, he darts for the closest cover he spots, crouching behind what looks like a computer console next to the stairs. His eyes dart back and forth trying to adjust to the dim light, desperately hoping to spot the feather stalker before it spots him.
While searching the building, you all find a medpatch and two flares.