For your own reasons -- a chance to explore, travel the universe, seek out lost treasures and lore, or just a decent paycheck -- you applied to join the Starfinder Society. You were brought to Absalom Station, specifically the Lorespire Complex, and subjected to a battery of tests and background checks. After three days of these, ranging from exhausting physical trials to patience-trying boredom waiting, you are accepted and awarded a medallion of membership.
For your demonstrated talents and trustworthiness (or lack thereof), you are assigned to Nomad Section. Rumors tell you this team is often responsible for 'rough' missions -- usually exotic, often undesirable, and always dangerous.
One of the small perks of Starfinder Society membership is a place to call home. With your Nomad Section assignment, you receive a tiny closet-sized apartment within the team's hangar in the Lorespire Complex. Its small, but its secure, and a place to sleep.
You are told to meet with your new teammates and the Nomad Section commander, Venture-Captain Sarigar, at 0700H.
Same.
Bast Ardsley, not my real name of course, but when enough marks call you a bastard, you might as well take it and make it your own. I was mentored by one of the best bounty hunters in the biz, Lazlo, most people who found out he had been hired just turned themselves in, he was getting bored so he found me grunting away in some hole in the wall building tech for a scumbag crime boss, saw something in me and decided to take on a project to fill the time.
Things were going pretty well, I was learning the biz, taking down marks and making a name for myself when I took a job that was maybe a little out of league, Lazlo told me I was a fool to try and go after the Criminal known as Z with how green I was but man, those credits just called my name.
Lazlo was right, Z was too much for me to handle, after tracking him to this Sh$thole, he set me up good, stole my ship and left me on this damn rock.
I dropped a line to Lazlo, asking for help, he told me to figure it out and to send him a comm when I did. Assh@le, though I can't blame him, he did warn me.
Now I am doing what I can to scrap together enough creds to buy some junker to get me off this rock and capture Z and get my ship back and get paid.
The the 3 foot tall cylinder of smashed metal appears to have a large antiquated artillery piece attached to it as it darts forward rapidly but somewhat zigzagged, pausing for a moment to peruse every corner and alcove for a split seconf before continuing on. What initially appears as a small robot, the party may be surprised to see the red eyes and green skin as the creature removes it's custom fitted, oblong helmet to reveal sharp teeth and one and a half dangly ears.
The creature grins leeringly, "Any youse dogwives know what da plan is? Wuddn't paying tenshun. Long as dere's somethin ta shoot n somethin to eat, Lasereater be OK."
Glances at Bast strangely, "You sum sorta half-shanks?".
He barely waits for an answer before some piece of metal, a homemade grenade actually, falls off his belt. He looks at it forlornly for a moment and then saunters over to pick it up and starts to reattach it before remembering to disarm it at the last second, snickering loudly as he brandishes it to you all. "Almost kilt us all!"
Blax-9 enters and regards Bast and Lasereater coldly. "Better save those grenades for those who need killin', goblin. I imagine we'll need 'em where we're going. In case you ain't heard, they don't send Nomads on easy runs. It's kill or be killed on these missions. And boys, I ain't planning on dying anytime soon. That means we work together out there. No foolin' around. No amateur mistakes. No thinkin' twice about pullin' the trigger. You got that?"
Blax drops his laser rifle and pulls out a wooden tobacco box and begins rolling the dried green leaves in thin white paper. He then ignites the papers with an over-sized lighter and takes a long draw. "I'm Blax-9."
He then offers the remainder to the others. "Smokes?"
The goblins eyes get wide, round and wet as he looks up in awe at Blax, Half-shanks two can make ... firah?!"
His voice which already sounds like a chipmunk who has been smoking for a lifetime is riddled with divine reverence.
Death and chaos in the Arms. A dwarf and 3 humans were killed while twelve others were wounded in a shootout at Dock 94 this morning. Witnesses say members of two street gangs -- the Downside Kings and Level 21 Crew -- erupted into gunfire at the dock shortly after a shuttle arrived. Many innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire, accounting for the numerous wounded and the death of this dwarf, Duravar Kreel, an agent of the Starfinder Society. Station security arrived on the scene minutes later and ended the confrontation, killing 3 of the gang members. None of either gang were detained for questioning. Reasons for the sudden outbreak of violence are unclear, but some suspect it was a targeted assassination of the Starfinder, Kreel. If so, it is another setback for the beleaguered Society, after the disastrous... <<bzzzt>>
The video feed cuts to static and then shuts off as a newcomer enters the hangar. Standing nearly eight feet tall atop a long, serpentine body with a male humanoid upper torso, he saunters towards you with a casual snake-like motion. His skin is a deep blue shade, and he has a stern face, pointed ears, short steel gray hair, and white pupil-less eyes.
He approaches and regards each of you for a moment, and you sense he is measuring you in turn. "I am Sarigar, your new commander and instructor. Welcome to Nomad Section."
Blax stands when the venture captain enters and nods at the commander warily. "Blax-9 at your service. I hear you Nomads get a lot of action. You gonna cut us in? I was hoping to be sent somewhere hot, but it sounds like things are heating up right here at Absalom Station. Fire fights and gang warfare - that's what I'm talking about. So, what's the job commander?"
"Firah!" Lasereater repeats, nodding vigorously.
Bast looks over each person in the room with the same clinical eye as he would a mark, trying to discern any weaknesses, strengths, habits, affiliations and any other information he can store for later deductions.
Meeting Sarigar's eyes he nods and asks "Instructor for....?" his voice trails off in an obvious way
"In all things Starfinder, Bast," Sarigar responds. "I understand each of you are here for your own reasons. This isn't a military unity, we aren't the Hellknights, but I will expect a certain level of compliance from you, and teamwork..." He begins to pace sinuously back and forth as he speaks, hands clasped behind his back.
"A few months ago, the Starfinder Society wouldn't have touched your applications with a ten-foot pole. You're misfits, killers and cads. But, after the Scoured Stars incident, desperate times call for desperate measures. Your predecessors in Nomad Section were misfits too, but because they stuck together, they survived the harshest bospor dung the Society and the galaxy threw at them... until that debacle, anyway." A snarl of anger flashes on his face, but is gone a moment later. A row of wedge-shaped blades at the tip of his tail extend and retract with a *whhkt* and *blik*.
Sarigar stops pacing and turns to face you. "The Society expects nothing from you. They don't trust you -- probably for good reason -- but they know you've got talent. So, you've been discarded here in Nomad Section, to be given the dregs and discarded tasks. I'm going to ask more of you, though... work together, be a team, and we will do good things here."
Finally, Sarigar replies to Blax-9. "I like your enthusiasm," he says, grim smile barely registering beyond his eyes, "but the investigation into Kreel's murder has been given to another team. We have a different assignment." He glances around the hangar, as if looking for someone. "I was expecting a few more new hires this morning, but it appears they got distracted. You may be the worst the Society has, but at least you were punctual."
"I've talked enough. Before we begin, do any of you have questions for me?"
Blax-9 puffs thoughtfully on his ciagarette. ”Will we get bonus pay for more kills? I would accept payment int the form of weapons or ammo. Can we get an advance on our payment now? Would the Society consider loaning us weapons? I would like a plasma rifle. Come on Sarigar, get us some of that high tech Society gear!”
"Kill horses, break stuff? Is all Lasereater need. "
The goblin hoists his reaction cannon onto his shoulder to accentuate his statement.
Sarigar pauses a long moment before replying to Blax-9, as if assessing whether the andriod's request were serious. "I think you will find the Society's current cache of "high tech" gear and weapons to be very disappointing. Unless you really do revere the Devourer, then maybe you'd find big, empty spaces pleasing."
"No, you'll be paid for missions completed. Advance payments are not going to happen... at least until you prove yourselves trustworthy." He seems skeptical.
"As Starfinders, you can enjoy other benefits. Food and shelter are provided for you, if spartan, and our medical facility is decent, should you need it. You can also access the Archives, if you desire or need to do research for a mission."
After a pause, Sarigar adds, "It should not need be said, but the Society will not tolerate theft, or any destruction of its property." He says the last with a hard glance at Lasereater.
"What other questions do you have?"
"I don't need the Society's trust, I just need creds in my account when the job's done, as long as the pay is fair, I am your man until I can afford a new ship to get me off this rock"
"With that being said, what's the job, and more importantly, what's the pay"
Sarigar nods, "Let's get to work then." He starts to pace once more.
"Several months ago, a crew of Starfinders took a ship called the Unbounded Wayfarer into the Vast to explore a series of uncharted planets. They never returned. Earlier today, a vesk pawnbroker in the Downlow neighborhood contacted us, offering to sell us several Starfinder insignias. These insignias belonged to the lost crew of the Unbounded Wayfarer, and that immediately caught the Society’s attention."
"The pawnbroker -- named Julzakama -- doesn’t realize the true value of the insignias. We negotiated a purchase price in exchange for the insignias and information about the seller. We hope this seller can lead us to the Unbounded Wayfarer and its crew."
"We’ve remotely transferred the requested credits to Julzakama. Now, we need you to collect the insignias and all the information you can from the vesk regarding whoever sold him the insignias, and then track down that seller. Learn where to find the Unbounded Wayfarer and its crew. I’m worried that the seller might not be on the station for long, so act quickly."
Sarigar turns to Bast. "I am authorized to reward you 200 credits each for this task. Questions?"
"Inna dishun to costa ammo, rite?" The little goblin scrunches his head as he tries to figure out math.
Blax-9 throws the smoking remnants of his cigarette on the ground and grinds it out with his boot heel, "Trust cuts both ways Sarigar. We'll get you the information you seek."
Bast nods to Sarigar, "200 creds each, plus expenses. If things go sideways and we need to get aggressive, those 200 creds won't even cover the ammo, let alone my time."
Depening on his response, I will have a few more questions.
"What can you tell us about Julzakama?"
"Why are the insignias to valuable to you?"
Bast nods to Sarigar, "200 creds each, plus expenses. If things go sideways and we need to get aggressive, those 200 creds won't even cover the ammo, let alone my time."
"200 credits," Sarigar deadpans. "Expenses you incur while on your mission are your responsibility."
"What can you tell us about Julzakama?"
"He runs a pawnshop in Downlow called Julzakama’s Loans and is an unusually arrogant vesk. I will forward you directions to his shop." With a few swipes on his wrist pad, Sarigar sends you the address.
"Why are the insignias to valuable to you?"
"The crew of the Unbounded Wayfarer received the insignias long ago for exemplary service to the Society. Although this isn’t common knowledge outside the Starfinder Society, these insignias are no mere trinkets; they can be used to encrypt or decrypt information that the Starfinders wanted to keep hidden. It is best we recover them else they fall into the wrong hands."
"Find lost Starfinderz. Gots it. Less go!"
Blax-9 nods at Lasereater. "200 credits it is then. Let's do it."
A young human wanders in from the refresher station, just as Sarigar finishes introducing himself, "Wha, what did I miss?" He walks up to the Tall Blue Humanoid, raises his hand and says "Hello, my name is Val'nor, Computer expert. Are you our Instructor? I was told to report to you."
Val'nor perks up at the offer of 200 creds, "Wow, 200 creds! You got it boss!"
Lasereater saddles up to the newcomer and sniffs, "Hrrumph, real longshanks. Stink like horse."
He stares meanly at the man for a second and then gets distracted by a loose piece of metal off his own cannon and spins in a circle three times to grab it.
Bast shrugs and says "200 creds for a simple track and find, not the best rate but acceptable, if it turns into anything more, we'll have to renegotiate."
Looking at Val'nor as he comes in, "If you aren't early, you're late,I hope this isn't a habit for you"
He glaces at Lasereater and sighs
He smiles and says:
'No one said show up at a certain time, I was just in the 'Latrine' 'Sarge', from now on I'll pee in the corner instead' To the rest he says 'Hello, nice to meet you'
My Story is simple, my parents brought us here for some reason, then they got killed. I've lived on the 'street' for most of my life. I taught myself computer skills and most of the things I've done have been legal. But one hack went a bit too far and in order to stay off the Authorities sensor screens, I volunteered for the Starfinders, This is my first assignment, its pretty exciting.
Val'nor whips out his datapad, and plugs it into a terminal.
Lets see what we can discover about Julzakama's shop, see if we can find floor plans, and lets see if he has any surveillance devices up and running.
Sarigar nods to Val'nor, saying nothing about his tardiness but clearly unimpressed. "The Society is not haven against the authorities, trust me. I won't tell you how to do your jobs, but try not to break too many laws on the way."
"I'll leave you to it then. Report to me when you find that seller." With that, Sarigar turns and slithers out the door to his office.
Brax-9 pulls up the directions. "Let's head to the Downlow and see if we got the credit to get a loan at Julzakama’s. I got my collateral right here.
Brax arms has rifle.
Val'nor is able to locate Julzakama's Loans on the station map, but can only tell that it is a small shop on a busy avenue of myriad businesses. Breaking into station surveillance feeds is a bit outside his capabilities.
You head out and make your way to Downlow, one of the neighborhoods within The Spike, the hundreds of levels extending below Absalom Station's radial plane. Containing a number of residential areas sandwiched between massive sections of heavy industry and station support machinery, the Spike is the gritty underbelly of station life. Downlow is the largest and safest of the Spike's districts, as well as the most cosmopolitan, though it pales in comparison to wealthier sections of the Eye.
Using the Mass-Tram system, it takes you about 45 minutes to reach Downlow.
Former Defense Minister claims the Unseen threat is real.
A 25-year veteran of the Stewards and former minister of the Pact Worlds' Ministry of Defense -- who requested to remain anonymous due to fears for their life -- declared that the mysterious faction of aliens, sometimes referred to as 'the Unseen', are a real and grave threat to Absalom Station and our Pact allies. The former minister spoke of the Acreon -- which arrived out of Drift Space a couple weeks ago with its crew completely missing -- as a clear example of the Unseen's handiwork. They also claimed that many in the government are aware of these aliens and their predations, but refuse to acknowledge them or take any actions to defend our citizens.
Many doubt the claims regarding these unseen aggressors, dismissing the stories of abductions and strange experiments as silly urban legends at best, and ravings of lonely closet conspiracy theorists at worst. Both the Stewards and the Ministry of Defense declined to comment on this story.
You leave the transit station and walk the rest of the way. The streets are busy with citizens of all races, flowing in a chaotic gaggle to their individual destinations -- fashion boutiques with bright adaptive displays, street cafes and exotic restaurants, AbadarCorp-sponsored general wares, and entertainment parlors of all kinds.
After fifteen minutes of walking, the streets grow narrower and less clean, but no less busy. On a low-ceilinged avenue of concrete and metal buildings that drips with oil and sparking wires, you spot a wide, red neon electric sign reads “Julzakama’s Loans”. The storefront is sandwiched between a Kuthite sensation house and a derelict connex covered with graffiti. The shop’s solid metal door contains a single, small window too grimy to peer through.
Lasereater whistles as he walks up, running his finger along the rusted metal, "Wow, dis nice place."
Bast will check his weapons before heading in
Val'nor will keep an eye out for surveillance cameras and note the people on the street nearby.
...and he runs into the door as Bast opens it...=(
Brax-9 looks up and down the street for anything suspicious and then opens the door and walks in.
The door to the shop slides open in with a hydraulic hiss and spatter of fluid. Inside, the small shop is crammed with shelves containing all manner of near-valueless items -- from small appliances to VR game consoles and jars of colored powders -- locked behind panels of scratched and yellowing glassteel. The shop has the acrid smell of a reptile house that has not been cleaned in months.
A massive vesk in a muscle shirt stands at the rear of the shop behind a barred vendor window, carelessly disassembling an old computer on a cluttered desk. He glances up as you enter, peering through a diagnostic monocle, "Yeah?"
Blax-9 shoulders his rifle and smiles at the pawnbroker. "I understand that you've been paid to provide insignias and their seller. We're here to collect. Whatcha got for us?"
Lasereater strolls amongst the shelves, and stops for a moment picking up a seemingly innocuous piece of broken technology and pops it in his mouth, slobbering on it and feeling it about. He tinkers with it for a moment and then sticks the still dripping wet object back on the shelf.
"Fixt!" The goblin exclaims victoriously.
"You're with the Starfinders?" Julzakama scoffs, flashing a wide grin and chuckling. "Society having hard times, huh?" He digs around beneath his desk and procures a metal box, sliding it through the gap in the bars.
"There you go..." The vesk scratches the scaly skin between his bony beardspikes with a clawed hand and says, "Seems I’m now fully paid for those trinkets there. I remember your boss said something about wanting information, too, and I can do that. But information costs extra."
Val'nor takes the box, opens it and confirms that the insignia are within. Then says to the Vesk: "As you say, we can hardly believe we're with the Starfinders either. You've already been payed for the trinkets AND the sellers name and any details about them. That is what we require. No more, no less. Then we'll be on our way"
Blax-9 looks concerned as he sees Lasereater placing merchandise in his mouth. Shrugging, he turns back to the Julzakama, "Yeah, you been paid Vesk. Now, tell us everything you know about this Seller or we'll report you to the Society. You cross the Society, you're done on Absalom Station."
"Ahhah!" the vesk barks a laugh. "Done? More like the Society is about done for itself. Rumors on the net say you lost half your agents and even more money at the Scoured Stars. I'm afraid you ain't got that much pull anymore." He shakes his head, still smiling smugly. "Now... I'll be charitable, given your sorry state of affairs: 20 creds and I'll tell you what you wanna know?"
Blax-9 pauses as he pulls out his smokes and lights up in front of Julzakama. After regarding the vesk for a moment he places the 20 credits on the counter. "It's cheaper than wasting ammo on your ugly mug."
He then blows a cloud of smoke over the vesk.
The little goblin hops up on the counter and sweeps up the cred stick before the break can grab it. He pulls out a drag grenade and puts his finger on the igniter.
"Dis more den 20 credz. Leave behind for you. Or tell us for free, ya know, with less BOOM!'
The goblin breaks into a huge toothy grin.
Julzakama snarls as Lasereater grabs the cred stick, but then puts up his hands and steps back when the grenade appears. "Alright, alright... fine! Put that thing away before you hurt yourself!" He sighs, shaking his head again. "You're looking for a woman, name's Exegara. She ain't from around here. She wore a flight suit, worn and dirty, like she'd come off a long trip. And a hood, so I didn't see much of her face."
"Once she had her money, she asked for clean skeletons. I don't truck that kind of merch, so I sent her to the Vat Garden."
Val'nor stares at the grenade in Lasers hand, and his mouth drops open, and he tries to fade into the background.
Blax-9 smiles at the goblin, "He's convincing, ain't he? Now, where can we find this Vat Garden?"
Lasereater hop down, tossing the grenade nonchalantly back into his bag.
"Lasereater grow up here. Know dis place. Stupid ratfaces grow yuck food in water. Me take. Can walk."