Starfinder: The Deep Unknown

Game Master Tark the Ork

The other thing I require is a short description of an NPC crew member and their role on the ship you'll be commanding.

Pact Worlds stuff is of course allowed, no restrictions on allowed races.

Take myself, for example: I am among the most elite computer hackers in all the pact worlds, and I am best known for something that amounts to a hobby.

You probably know me better as Argent. That's right, the Argent who designed the Fumokawa 15-LSS fighter, or the Pact Worlds Fusilade combat carrier; or, for that matter, the new Explorator class starships that this expedition will be using.

In short, am I famous for the thing I'm probably the best at? not really. Am I famous for something that is so easy I could probably do it in my sleep? yes I am.

Interview says something indistinct

Okay, okay. I'll start from the beginning.

I grew up on Daegox 4, which is a prison planet run by a mysterious species that will basically imprison anyone or anything. My parents had apparently been smugglers, although I never met them, as they didn't survive for long.

I was taken in by an Android engineer named Dorithy-01, who taught me pretty much anything and everything related to electronics and mechanics. She discovered fairly quickly that I was a natural when it came to writing code, so she taught me a great deal about that. I wrote my first piece of software when I was 6, a loop software that would trick the food dispensers to give multiple rations.

I was punished by the guards with the loss of my left arm; it didn't matter though, because I was hooked. Over the next few years, I created a software program that grew to become an AI. I then started trading technology for protection, food, and services, which included a device to implant my AI's housing into my neutral network.

Interviewer interrupts to ask a question

Her name is Rosie, and yes, she can hear what you are saying. She also doesn't appreciate your attempts to test her abilities.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes, Daegox 4.

The planet is a weird place: It's got two sides to it: a set of buildings with cells, where the more violent criminals were kept, and a nice part for the stock embezzlers and cheating corporate ceos, where they got to live in a garden and frolic with nature.

Living in the moderate security wing, I grew up hating those who lived in the nice part of the world, but not as much as I hated our jailors. I wanted to send the entire planet up in flames, but since Sarenrae was not available to take my calls, I would have to do it myself.

I continued to write code and sell it, but now I went out of my way to not get into trouble. Basically, I wanted to make myself invisible while I planned and plotted my escape.

It was around then that I began to design spaceships, but only because I wanted to one day see the stars and I would dream about how I would do so. We'll come back to that, though.

It took me almost a decade of searching through the local infosphere, but I finally found a node that was guarded by some of the most powerful firewalls I had ever thought of, much less heard of. Not wanting to risk myself or my AI, I did what any guerilla force would do: I watched and gathered information.

It was a few months before anyone even accessed that node, and it was on an incoming transfer of new prisoners. I watched as codes were transmitted, and I saw that they had a portal that opened and prisoners were brought in. I sent a fly drone at the portal to see if it could get out, but it was destroyed.

Apparently the portal was one way.

It was almost another year before I would get the chance to see how the portal let people out: namely, the guards. They worked on a five-year rotation, and I watched as guards both came and left from the same portal. Different codes were sent, and the portal room was heavily guarded when they left and the newbies arrived.

I learned a few things that day, but none so important as this: the cyphers were hand generated, not created by machine.

It was another five years before I had everything I needed, but by then I was ready to leave the planet. About 6 months before the next guard rotation, I provided one of the biggest factions of anarchists a set of codes that would unlock all of the doors and gates in the maximum security wing.

While the planetary guard force was dealing with that, I broke into personnel and created a fake guard for myself, using my genetic code. I also noted that I was on infiltration duty, and had been for most of my tour.

Finally, I expunged my parent's records from the system, as well as Dorithy-01's, and got her a ticket out of the system along with me by creating her a persona as a maintenance worker.

When the fateful day came, I was really scared, but it went surprisingly easy. We both walked out with all the other workers and guards, and left into the Pact Worlds.

When I landed on Absalom station, I wasn't sure what to do, so I approached a ship design firm on a lark and asked them if they wanted to buy any of my designs.

I assumed they would not, but that was not the case. They started throwing around the kind of numbers that meant I would start caring about how much tax I would pay. They also asked if I could design them some more ships, and I said I would talk to the designer.

I explained that I represented the designer, who was an aging genius and had no wish to be involved in the limelight. I also explained that I had been selected to solely represent his interests in this regard.

After some hesitation, I then also explained that my salary would be taken out of whatever the creator, who wished to go by the name Argent, would get. After a full hour's debate, they returned and agreed to my terms.

From there, you pretty much know what happened then: I became rich and continued designing ships. They hired an actor to portray the aging genius, and he went on to star in a few successful movies.

When I read about the Explorator project on the Absalom Council's secured servers, I knew I wanted in. I designed them a new ship then told my firm to go and offer it to the project in exchange for my joining the expedition, obstensibly because I wanted to make sure that the power of Argent's ships wouldn't be abused, but really because...

You have used mind control magic on me, haven't you? Tsk tsk tsk.

Rosie?

Interviewer begins reacting loudly to something off screen.

Walking up to the camera, the young Human man in his mid 20s puts his face right into the camera and says:

Do you want me and my ships or not?

He spent only a small portion of time before the war ended doing what Vesk love, war. He proved himself on the battlefield even in space but all good things must come to an end and Thrask had to evolve or find himself at odds with the galaxy. It was in this time that he took to the skies and went from dangerous world to dangerous world, spending only a season at a time in the depths of the jungles, the deserts, and the plains of the known galaxy's most dangerous ecosystems and he came out the other side, scarred and feeling a sense of pride.

He turned in trophy after trophy to anyone who'd buy, medical companies, wealthy tycoons, even criminal overlords. He didn't care where the money came from, only that his expertise was acknowledged and lucrative. But the fame and the thrill of the hunt slowly became mundane and boring. He had hoped the hobby would help him pass the time till the Vesk inevitably broke the arrangement and war began once again. It was at this time, that he began to notice the advertisements for experts in various fields to apply to enter the unknown and survive and learn. Well, he could do two of the three at least.

Thrask dressed in his military uniform, complete with his decorations, and adorned himself in the trappings of his more impressive kills. He submitted a video interview as per requested and awaited their response. He received a response eventually from a particularly...fit yet doughy at least by Vesk standards, human. Miss Nadia Von Kember sent details for him to conduct the second interview and he showed up in response. A small range where she showed up, in fatigues. He raised a brow and snorted in her direction. It was time to test his skills apparently. Perhaps his word was not worth enough, but he entered the exercise and proved readily that he was more than competent. And as he was exiting the trial field, he turned to the nearby wrecked vehicle that littered the field and opened his maw wide spraying and melting the vehicle with a large gout of acid. He snarled and licked his lips free of the tingling acid.

It was later that he learned that Miss Von Kember was in fact the First mate of the ship that he was applying for, and from what he was later told of human females, she was a ten. Serving as the voice for the ship and her captain in all things monetary, the sultry little Envoy had pulled the wool over his eyes with her importance, ability, and prestige. While he had proven his worth to the woman and had put himself somewhat in her favor, her lack of transparency of her position lead him to be cross and on his guard with her. This had began an unusual relationship.

She applied to the engineering team, and was accepted. She looks forward to working with Argent and seeing the sort of man that he has become.

The show finished to thunderous applause. Shoving his way through the cheering crowds, Monto approached the front where the band was packing up and enjoying the cheers. "Excuse me? Karma?" he called. The lead player perked up immediately, and glared at him. She jumped off the stage, and shoved him backwards, snapping "The hell do you want? I thought I made it clear that I'm not working for any of you bastards ever again". She was slight, short, and had waist long neon green hair tied in a ponytail. Her pink eyes looked strangely intense for a human, and they were currently burning right at him. Using her codename was a risk, but at least it made his intentions clear. He laughs. "Let me buy you a drink. The group I represent have an offer for you." she grunts, grabs her guitar, and heads for a lonely booth at the back. The crowd gives her a wide birth.

"So what is it anyway? Fleet disruption on the Vesk? Ain't we allies now? You should know I don't fly combat anymore." She squints right at him and grunts with disdain. "You corp or gov?" He did know that. It was clearly stated on her file, and the reason everyone thought he was crazy for trying to hire her. Still, at least she was actually responding. They had been talking for hours and she changed the subject to something random or inane every time he got close to his offer. He had been about to excuse himself to leave, and suddenly this direct question came out. She must've sensed it. Finally, a chance to explain."Bit of both. Not against the Vesk. With. It's a joint venture. And there should be no combat this time." He paused, and decided to be honest. "Well, we hope."

CarraMarina laughs humourlessly. "Do you know, General Reckford has said the exact same thing before suicide runs? No, really. Ever hear of the battle of Onoloma?" Monto shook his head. "I have not. How bad was it?" She grins wickedly, and drowns her first drink of the evening all at once. She'd been nursing it for hours. "There was no battle of Onoloma. It was a massacre. My cruiser was the only to survive." She slams the glass onto the dirty table. "Tell that bastard I'll see him in hell before I go back." She rolled to her feet gracefully, grabbing her guitar case. This was not how he wanted it to go. Sighing, Monto pitches his last shot. "We'll declassify everything if you go." She turns to him, and cocks her head sideways, her disdain plastered on her face. "So?" "That includes your testimony." She pauses, her face expressionless. If looks could kill, Monto would be dead.

She was tempted. Time for his secret weapon. "Ko is going too."

Her eyes flickered. A small smile flickers onto her face, and her voice sounds lighter. "Well, why didn't you lead with that? Where to, boss?"

She had a persistent discipline problem, frequently protesting actions she considered unethical. She would try to prevent anyone else from going on suicide runs, believing in her own skills but fearing for others. Multiple times, she was almost fired and only kept on for her talents. It is unclear from the record if she was often thrown onto impossible missions because she volunteered of because her commanders hated her. In the early years of her employment, she learned how to play the guitar and sing, forming a rock band with several of the pilots in her division. Her habit of blasting music during combat baffles many.

She participated heavily in the Swarm War, within a confidential squadron of high powered unique individuals known as the "Unlucky Few". The 8 of them flew almost exclusively suicide missions, and were known for driving mission directors insane with their independence. This is where she met Ko, a drow warrior who Karma became great friends with. In one of the final battles of the war, their luck ran out and a majority of the squad died. Only Ko, Karma, and Aauurklo, a Kalo mechanic, survived. Having had enough, the three tried to quit.

This is when they discovered that General Rackford, their supervisor during the Swarm War, had faked their deaths publicly to help keep their existence a secret. They were forbidden from ever going near anyone who knew them before the swarm war at gunpoint. Ko and Aauurklo stayed, and disappeared into the workings of the machine. Karma heard a rumour that they were under deep cover, and never saw them again. Karma took a ship and left, heading for mostly unpopulated planets, where she plays music to keep herself entertained. Furious, Rackford registered her in the system as legally dead, and essentially deleted her official existence.

Several of the departments she had worked for were tried after the Swarm war for old cases of corruption and war crimes. Advanced military projects and weapons testing had gone far beyond it's bounds, being tested on innocent bystanders and ruining several planets. Karma had born witness (and protest at the time) to several of these, and even helped move around some of the projects and scientists. She tried to speak out, condemning the companies and military branches, but was silenced by General Rackford when he sealed her testimony on the grounds that she doesn't legally exist. With all the eyewitnesses silenced in similar manners, many of the true crimes remained hidden and were never brought to public view.

Furious with this, Karma retreated to backwater planets where she rocks out in sketchy bars and generally ignores the world. This is where she was when Monto Caliban dug up her file when looking for a pilot, and where he eventually found her. Recruited through the promise of prosecution for these sketchy companies and departments and a promise to be reunited with Ko, she finds herself preparing for a mission to strange new worlds.

Ko 'Reroll' Ashurona - Drow infiltrator. An expert on infiltration and communication, Ko served as communications officer and face of the Unlucky Few. She and Karma were very close friends while they were together. Her crew nickname was Reroll, because she seemed to be able to talk her way out of any situation, frequently turning bad into good. She is good with language, reading people, and generally manipulating people. She also plays the keyboard.

For 3 years he trod the soil of a hundred worlds learning from Resonance until he was finally allowed to call himself a Forerunner and given an explorer class ship to chart worlds on his own, exploration was what drove him from Castrovel but it was the beings that he met there that propelled him to drive harder, to see more.

For 10 years he and his small crew on the explorer Mariposa have logged more first contact reports then any other crew in that same time, with a much lower hostile contact rate then the average.

It was his thesis on “The coming of age rituals of indigenous peoples of the Eta Sector” that brought Eivo to the attention of the Selection Committee, the rugged damaya lashunta was not at all what they were expecting, but it became clear that his field experience and passion for exploration made him a good fit

So did he play as guide to these people or merely brought them stuff? Was he famed as a hunter? A wilderness xenoranger? Basically I'd like to know more. Particularly the events that made him famous what made his fame. Think like Geralt of Rivia. A famed loner, sure, but people can easily point to events that cement his fame and compel the wealthy and desperate to seek out his services.

A shiver of anticipatory dread passed through Korva just before he downed the vial. Almost immediately his body began to shift and twist in shape. When it was done, the mirror Korva had been peering into showed a rather attractive looking human woman. A serum of sex shifting was not hard to come by, but they were also expensive to use too regularly. He tended to avoid them if at all possible but the man he was going to be trying to get a job from was a bit of a pig and tended to like his assistants young and female if at all possible. Korva inspected her new body in the mirror for a moment before nodding professionally and slipping into the sleek but professional dress that had been picked out for the interview beforehand. After that he called an air cab to take him from his hotel to a random location, from which he would walk to the pharmaceutical building’s headquarters. On the way over he pulled up his com device and reviewed the data he had been sent by his employer. He had already committed it all to memory, but it never hurt to review. In the document were various trade secrets that would help give him an edge in the interview. A few were small secrets that his employer trusted him to bait the interviewer with. It was a risk but if it got him in and granted him access to their files it would all be worth it.

Four months later Korva was back in his biologically born body and on his way to Verces in first class under an assumed name. In a hidden pocket Korva bore a secure data micro-computer with the information that he had stolen from the Brethedan biotech firm. That data would allow his employer to essentially undercut and destroy the company, not to mention they could make millions from the years of research he had stolen. Sure, his side was a little bit sore from the stab wound he had taken when he was extracting. But all things considered things had gone quite well. Besides Verces was lovely, he had grown up on the tidally locked world and he always enjoyed coming back to it. He’d gotten his start on Verces and most of his oldest clients called the planet home as well. Verces was basically rife with corporate espionage and as a young man Korva had found that he had a talent for being charming enough that people told him things they probably shouldn’t. Secrets became a valuable currency for him and over time he learned the right people to sell those secrets to.

The moment that they entered Verces’ space Korva’s com device buzzed to life, vibrating as messages came in off the planetary infosphere. Not many people had access to his personal com device, so he pulled it out and began scanning messages immediately. Within moments his good mood had been crushed. The messages were from one of his close friends Pipp, a Ysoki hacker that handled a lot of his digital correspondence with clients. Pipp was one of the few people who knew Korva, the real Korva, not just one of his varied faces or disguises. He didn’t use the com unit to send messages often, knowing all too well how easy to hack certain systems were. If it wasn’t important he would have waited for a face to face meeting. Unfortunately, it was very important. Somehow his identity had been compromised and an arrest warrant was waiting for him on Verces. Not for Korva specifically of course, but for the alias he had taken this latest job under. Which meant that his employer had turned on him for some reason. Korva calmly unbuckled his restraints and stood up, making his way to the bathroom on the ship. Once inside he immediately got to work making himself unrecognizable. They would be landing in only a few minutes and that didn’t leave much time. As he put on his face he sent a few rapid messages to Pipp explaining what he had planned and what he needed the Ysoki hacker to do for him. Ten minutes later Darius Haan, the name he had been traveling under, was not spotted leaving the ship at all. In the rush to find him the security didn’t have time to notice that a young woman in a stewardess’ uniform did not actually match up exactly to the picture on her ID tag. Korva slipped away in the confusion.

Several hours later Korva, still disguised as a woman, sat down at a café that lay right at the boundary to Fullbright and nodded to a white furred Ysoki already enjoying a coffee. The Ysoki sighed and cursed quietly, “Damnit Kor I’d hoped you wouldn’t show. Now we’re both stuck in this.”

And at that the camouflage shielding dropped revealing a lithe elven man with a gun leveled at Korva. He smiled amiably and said, “Why don’t you have a seat we have a lot to discuss. Sorry to pin you down like this but you are a slippery one, so our employers felt the need to force your hand. Ill cut to the chase. We work for some of the same people. And one of those groups wishes us to take part in an upcoming enterprise, the Explorator Project. It aims to be on the cutting edge of discovery into the far reaches of Vast Space and our employers need a guarantee that they will have access to the information and resources gained. They would prefer that you willingly join this venture. If so then the current arrest reports will disappear and you, Pipp and myself will present ourselves as applicants to the Explorator Project—strings already having been pulled to select us of course. On the other hand, if you decline the offer… well lets just say that your real name and face might be revealed to not just the public but to a number of companies you have had run ins with in the past.”

Korva took all of this in, attempting to maintain a calm demeanor even though mentally he was cursing himself for being so careless. He let himself relax too much after finishing the last job. He hadn’t even noticed the man waiting for him when he came to meet Pipp. After a moment of consideration, he said, “Can you explain what good helping you would really do me? If our employers know my identity, then there is no reason they couldn’t continue to hold it over me for some time to come. I can’t say that I much care for that.”

The elven man nodded as if this were perfectly reasonable and expected. He set the gun down on the table, and pushed it towards the center of the table and gestured towards it as if indicating his good will, “I can see how you might have a problem with that. And frankly I am at fault for not being clearer. Our employer does not know your name or identity. I do. But they have certain leverage over me and in turn I am providing them leverage over you. It’s a tricky situation and as I said I wish we could start working together under better circumstances. But you have my word that if you help me in this your secret is safe with me. And if not, well I am taking a risk of my own by showing you both my face. As a further sign of faith I would like to introduce myself. I am Audun Dyrendal of Castrovel and I wish to work with you. So, what do you say?”

Korva considered the gun before them for a moment, reached out and grabbed it then slowly offered it back to the elf, “I must say I’m curious about anyone who could find my identity and trick both me and Pipp into a meeting like this. If you’re willing to be honest with us moving forward then I will be honest with you. As long as Pipp is on board… I suppose Ill admit to being interested in this project. I think I was getting a little bored with the same old con jobs and might need something new to sharpen my edge. What do you say Pipp, are you in?”

The Ysoki cackled heartily and downed the rest of his coffee, “Sure why not, its been a while since we did anything truly crazy. This should be fun.”

[NPC] Pipp: Ysoki either Operative or Mechanic who works on the computer side of any operations for Korva. Generally excitable and always looking for something new and interesting to poke his nose into. Less cautious than Korva. One of the only people who really knows Korva as a person. Korva trusts him more than anyone else and although Pipp can be eccentric Korva values his opinion immensely.
[NPC] Audun Dyrendal: Elf Mystic or Technomancer who roped Korva into the Project in the first place via blackmail. Would almost be a friendly rival kind of situation at least at first. Eventually he would likely become an important part of the team. The fact that he knows Korva's real name and face would make Korva trust him more easily, in an odd way.

I fear, this is the best I can offer with the information that I know and is current of Starfinder. While I wasn't exactly attempting to show him as a loner, I fear I may have done so. What I was trying to do was illustrate how competent he is as a soldier not just against sentient dangers but those of ecology and other less intelligent life. A survival expert able to notice dangers of the world around them from a first hand experience would be vital for an exploration crew. While there are those who would be able to speculate what dangers exist, it's different from being able to make the decision in a short period of time and react with military expertise.

I would lean that he is well known as a hunter, but could also make an excellent wilderness xenoranger...if he didn't himself enjoy the thrill of the hunt. For an extra penny, he would have done Guide work for the wealthy and go deeper in the jungles and flush game out towards them but it would typically violate his code of honor to give a creature such a dishonorable death.

Either way it sounds like an interesting idea. Is each player essentially going to have a ship that they command out of all the ones they sent out? Or do all the PCs end up on one of the ships together?

I can write a detailed on the history of the file later, but the summary is that Rackford classified it, Monto dug it up, there was a bit of political byplay, and now it can be given to anyone at Monto's discretion.

==From the logs of Cadet Eivo==
Akron 3: Day 4,
The indigenous scouts have been following is for 2 days, I know that Resonance could easily outpace them but he is moving slower and resting so that I can keep up, and he refuses to call for an extraction.
Akron 3: Day 7,
The hunter have become the hunted, literally in this case we have been watching a hunting party for about 6 hours. Hard to tell if they are the same group that was hunting us, or what they are hunting. Resonance is the first Android I have ever worked closely with, Now that I can follow his hand signals, he rarely speaks is that common for Androids? For forerunners?
Akron 3: Day 17,
The pickup is due tomorrow I feel like we could have learned more by making contact with the Tribe then we did from the remotes we posted. But I know better than to question Resonance during a deployment.
==end excerpt==
==From Akron 3 after action report Cadet Eivo==
I felt that the Forerunners assessment that “the benefits of interaction with potentially hostile indigenous peoples do not outweigh the risks” to be questionable perhaps it is my anthropologist training coloring my outlook.
The skill with which the Forerunner was able to evade a group of skilled hunters in terrain familiar the them, while simultaneously managing an inexperienced cadet is humbling.
==end excerpt==

For 3 years he trod the soil of a hundred worlds learning from Resonance until he was finally allowed to call himself a Forerunner and given an explorer class ship to chart worlds on his own, exploration was what drove him from Castrovel but it was the beings that he met there that propelled him to drive harder, to see more.

==From the logs of Forerunner Eivo==
Eivo Contact report 00042 Day 2
I managed to learn enough of the indigenous language to convey simple concepts, the young hunter called an early stop to our trek. S/He showed me how to gather some tubers, Life Sciences assessment of the plant was “ insufficient nutritional substance to sustain life.” once “Toki” as the hunter named themselves felt we had enough of the tubers we peeled then and started them boiling over a fire I had built. We then went to a nearby stream and “Toki” used a reed spear, that he quickly crafted with his stone knife, to spear a large “fish” with a single thrust.
::Do they have polarized sight? Or is it just training?::
We returned to the fire and “Toki” squirted the roe into the boiling pot of tubers, before wrapping the “fish” in the greens of the tubers spitting it on the spear over the fire.
The Meal was excellent, I suspect that something in the roe broke down some of the strong proteins of the tubers. I saved samples of each to give to Drola for study.
All that “Toki” will tell me is that we go to find their “destiny”

Eivo Contact report 00042 Day 5
We should be back to the tribe tomorrow, “Toki” still has not slept since we arrived at the “The Wash” the field of round “stones” that “Toki” gathered his “destiny”. It looks like nothing more than a common geode, and I have not had a chance to give it a proper scan.
==end excerpt==
==From Contact 00042 after action report Forerunner Eivo==
The scans of the geode show that it is nothing more than that, I was not able to be present at the ceremony. The hunter, who explained that they were no longer “Toki”, was ecstatic to see me, s/he called me her luck spirit, They where to be a weaver and gifted me with half of the geode.
In the future I believe that more time with the elders will be required to be able to observe actual ceremonies. I will alter my approach future contacts with that in mind, I will that mystery with me as a reminder
==end excerpt==

For 10 years he and his small crew on the explorer Mariposa have logged more first contact reports then any other crew in that same time, with a much lower hostile contact rate then the average.

==Personal Correspondence==
Aunt Veaene,
I lost a crew member last week, my mentor was aloof, separate from the rest of the crew, adopted that because I thought that was what it was to be a Forerunner. He was a Vesk, a Life Sciences expert that had been in my crew for 8 years, and what I am coming to realize, my closest friend, my family. When I left home father told me that it was a decision that I could not take back. When he died last year I did not let myself feel that loss. But Vesk’s death has brought that back up and amplified it.
The crew of the Mariposa is my family, and between Father and Resonance I have kept myself apart from them. I have 18 more months with this ship and crew and I am to close that gap. But once that time is done I would like to come home.
Now to the part of the message where I ask you for something, Can you acquire me a space at your college? I would like a formal education in anthropology. I am happy to take any tests and I can easily pay any tuition that is required.

Love
Eivo.
==End Correspondence==

It was his thesis on “The coming of age rituals of indigenous peoples of the Eta Sector” that brought Eivo to the attention of the Selection Committee, the rugged damaya lashunta was not at all what they were expecting, but it became clear that his field experience and passion for exploration made him a good fit.

==From The coming of age rituals of indigenous peoples of the Eta Sector==
Tattooing is by far the most common component of these rituals, I have 34 Tattoos on my Left arm, given as gifts and used as samples of the art.
::Image removed do to size::
The style and tools have very little overlap, but the pervasiveness of the practice I do wonder if there is a common origin.
==end excerpt==

Much to the discomfort of the shuttle pilot, Ellion stood in his usual near-naked state staring into the reaches of Golarion. The scientist’s thoughts were not about arriving at his destination, but rather the step closer to his goal the transit achieved him. If it’s still possible.

“We’re approaching the port, Mr. Hesoni.”

“Doctor”, reminded the reflective elf. Port. A port was a place where ships docked. Nowadays, that meant airtight vessels with rockets or the like, electronics and automated processes aplenty. To Ellion, it also meant something quite different.

On Golarion, his homeworld, Ellion had been born in the first era. The events of this time were but footnotes in all but the most extensive historical annals now, but to him, they were his youth. He remembered his first canoe, the birch hull and oak oar providing him with plenty safe passages across rivers and lakes. He remembered the port of Greengold, where he sold his daily catch for a profit each evening. He remembered opening his remedy shop, the start of his pursuit of the yet-unnamed field of science. Though millennia old, the memories coursed with lightning speed through his unparalleled mind. They were as clear as images on the ship’s high resolution displays, yet with the inimitable warmth of sentimentality.

A sharp turn by the pilot was too much for the modest gravity stabilizers on the craft to handle, and the barefooted standing man leaned to counter it.

“Is this your first go in this ship, boy?” The tone was likely mistaken as chastisement, though Hesoni meant it out of curiosity.

“I’ve only been at this shuttle a few days, sir. It’s my first assignment.”

Such a short time, even for him.

As a fisherman in his youth, Ellion noticed patterns with the behaviors of the fish. He studied their movements, noticing how the differing types – later called species – would interact with their environment. His astute observations led him to better predict where the best catches could be had.
The profit he accrued led him to be able to purchase books and pay for the mouths and ears of the learned. Having come from commoners, this upshift in social status was quite an achievement. At a time when magic was still young, even among elves, the few nobles that wielded it in the wizarding way saw potential in the young man so interested in learning. They agreed to make an exception and teach a commoner, but Ellion threw a wrench into their plans.

The wizards were not used to failure in such affairs. They divined the magical potential of a subject before committing to him or her, and instruction was given with the implicit understanding service would be rendered to the monarch upon completion – indentured servitude by etiquette. The positions were honors to hold, and though some candidates developed better than others, all were capable of spellcraft. Except Ellion – at least in the ways the mages saw as capable.

Ellion was exceptionally bright, but he did not care to apply his mind to the particular outcomes the instructors had intoned. Instead, he dreamt about how the substances of the world interacted with the nature of magic. In his downtime, he experimented with various combinations of substances and spellspawn, determining a link between matter and magic. The basics of this were obviously known to his instructors as they knew what components were necessary to cast spells, but apparently they’d never investigated why those particular materials were required. When time came for his seasonal review, Ellion’s teachers were expecting a show of fire and force, not a scroll detailing the use of seasonal pinecones in white necromancy. Choosing to cut their losses, they cut young Ellion from the program. However, they’d already given the boy the catalyst he needed excel.

On the vessel, the pilot shot a glance at the elf. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Surely not. My nipples haven’t even hardened!” Ellion knew the doublespeak that came with the statement, but he wanted a bit of amusement. The youth swallowed and turned his head back to the dash. He’s blushing. Ellion grinned.

In truth, Ellion should have been cold. Adjusting his metabolism slightly nullified the discomfort though. It turned-out, through study of various substances in what would later be known as the pursuit of alchemy, Ellion’s interests lay even more biologically-centered than most alchemists. He became an expert of anatomy, using his funds from fishing to open a store for potions and poultices which ensued feedback used to improve his skill. Though he did not “cast” magic, he did use the innate magical power within himself – common for his kind – to imbue his elixirs with an extra boost of energy. The port came to hail him as a healer and civil hero. The local nobility didn’t care for this dilution of reliance on their wealth and power though, and accused him of “heresy”, martialing forces to execute him.

Though the despots’ plan was harsh, it was predictable, and Ellion had planned an exit strategy. He had a close friend dig a small chamber under his house for Ellion to lay. The entrepreneur had been experimenting with a new form of body alteration, one which would essentially stop all metabolic processes – breathing, consciousness, heartbeat, etc. He would be defenseless during this time, but he would have no maintenance. The military scoured the town for a week, checking in every conceivable location. The town resented this treatment though, and they rose up to overthrow their ruler. In the process, however, Ellion’s friend, Dalenane, was slain.

Unfortunately, Ellion was not skilled with this technique at the time he used it in this incident, and as a result, the only trigger for his revival was a splash of water across his face. Generations later, another family inhabiting the house happened to find his body while replacing the floorboards. As was custom, they attempted to dispose of his body by throwing it into the lake. The floundering mess of a “resurrection” caught the attention of the entire city. While the archers were ready to put down the “undead”, Ellion noticed a business running where his used to be on the waterfront – and people were leaving it with some of the telltale pink potions he’d made in years past.

My work lived on?

There was precisely one way Ellion’s studies could have borne fruit in this manner, and he requested the guards one chance to prove his identity: If the formulae book’s text the shopkeeper had used matched his handwriting, he was to be set free; otherwise, to death. Of course, he was right; Dalenane had preserved the fundamentals of alchemy which Ellion had written centuries prior. He made a deal with the owner to teach him in return for his shop, which the owner accepted; after all, he could well start his own elsewhere.

Hailed as a sort of demi-god, Ellion spent years trying to lead a life of his own, but he no longer seemed to fit-in with society. His fame and other-era genesis made him unable to connect on an intimate level easily. As a result, he had few friends and no lasting romantic relationships. The blessing of life he wrought for himself had turned-out to be a curse long in the tooth and slow in the bite. Not wishing to spread that devastating long-term disability, he kept the information for those particular paths of research to himself. In his depression, he eventually sealed himself off from society, telling them he was going into a “deep sleep” once more, and he was only to be awoken in time of great need or peril. The immensely wealthy associate who’d profited a hundred-fold off Ellion’s knowledge agreed to appoint a curator for the soon-to-be hibernating Hesoni, and the two selected an individual to check for vermin or thieves in his shop once in a blue moon. The town’s respect was so great for him, though, thieves were no concern though. Quite the opposite, the town built a temple around the sleeping scientist, and he was not called upon for many years.

Each time he was awoken every generation or so for the same reason: Rulers sought knowledge of some import for a war they were fighting. Ellion felt used as a pawn often, and he was amusingly summoned by one king and then his evidently-victorious opponent months later. His knowledge was not that of battles, but of bottles. Each time, he would provide his counsel, take in the changes of society since his last consciousness, and then return to his slumber. This pattern continued for millennia – until spacefaring began. For me, at least.

He awoke floating in a sea of blackness dotted by stars, his formulae book in his hands his only possession. A sterile cold reminded him there was a severe temperature difference in … wherever he was, yet his weightlessness made him feel as if he were in a dream. Recognizing the larger planets he could see, Ellion surmised before too long he was in a place where Golarion should have been, yet it was nowhere to be found. Instead, the nearest item of note seemed to be a large, metallic building in the stars. He urged himself to swim to it. Hunger began to strike him though, the distance remaining beyond what he could reach before he starved. The elf knew this situation was no dream now and sought to preserve himself by entering his state of stasis once again. However, he couldn’t. Panic set in. Then resignation.

As he stayed in space for what had to have been days, he lost weight. Ribs visible through his flesh, the ancient alchemist awaited the afterlife as calmly as once could while succumbing to famine. It was then a point of light began approaching his position, far closer than any star. Closer and closer it came, and after a mere few hours, he could see some sort of vessel was attached to it, blotting out stars as its enlarging silhouette passed in front of them. It seemed the craft would have passed by him, yet when all his hopes seemed to be dashed, its course changed. Diverting toward him, a bay was opened, and sailors with heavily-modified firearms awaited him.

They filled Ellion out on the Gap. Apparently, he was foundnear the space Golarion would have been had it still existed. He later found-out a human lieutenant by the name of Mark Nallas had been paying the keen attention to the bioscans that revealed his presence. More than stealing him from the jaws of death, Mark had stolen into a spot as Ellion’s confidant. The displaced drifter recounted his story to the man, and he returned to what he learned was Absalom Station to much acclaim from the few who knew of him. His story had become something of a mythic footnote over the years.

*******

Marveling at the development of technology, Ellion stayed in the makeshift ark of refugees, learning what he could of the advancements in now-commonplace science. The acceleration of learning was breathtaking, but Ellion possessed the acuity needed to wrangle with the plethora of changes. He took the time to do things as people of that day did, spending time in lectures with the professors to be considered a doctor. His field, naturally, was biology. Dr. Hesoni looked back into his old formulae book, preserved via magic as it was considered a holy text. Joining with his colleagues, Ellion helped to expand the knowledge base as best he could, though he had more historical and cultural insights than medicinal ones now.

With the advent of robots, the elves had assigned one to help him acclimate to life in the modern day, but Ellion made a special request for Lieutenant Nallas. It normally wouldn’t have been an approved assignment, but Ellion noted Mark was to be sent to Bretheda, and someone with an extensive history of experience in biology would be perfect to bring along and study the mercurial Brethedans. The pair bonded quickly during their time together there.

Though somewhat analogous to a warrant officer, Ellion quickly proved his value with deciphering anomalies. It was during one of these attempts he heard a shipmate utter a prayer to Ibra. Having not heard of this god before, he was treated to an earful. Yet it wasn’t until the man produced an amulet with the god’s symbol on it that Ellion was truly struck; the scene – sans constellation – was exactly what he saw before the craft detoured to rescue him. After hearing about the portfolio, it seemed aligned to what his job now was. The doctor had no interest in joining a church though. However, this didn’t deter those who heard of the serendipity of his rescue’s symbolism from hailing him as a conduit for discovery.

A demigod again. How many times must I nearly die before they understand it isn’t so?

Regardless, he felt he had purpose again, connected to a pursuit from his original “life”. Helpful as the day-to-day work was for facilitating daily going-ons, it did not dispel his one-of-a-kind loneliness. The length of time that spanned between now and his original time on Golarion was staggering, but Ellion felt the need to have some longer-term goal to keep away the loneliness. Maybe it wouldn’t be completed for centuries, but he would have a goal, a life’s work. He settled on deciphering why Golarion disappeared in the first place. What caused the Gap?

********

As the man adjusted the controls, Ellion noticed a ring on his finger.

“You are married?”

“Engaged! My fiancé and I are getting married in a month. It’s going to be a great time – all of my friends, family, and my favorite musicians will be there. We’re heading to a little resort moon, and –“ the youth noticed he’d said something to upset the elf.

Not upset. Saddened. The pilot’s experience was one the alchemist would never have. No matter his life was now reduced a similar scope of time as others – society had changed so much, he couldn’t hope to connect in a deep, intimate way with his past experiences. Even Mark, conscientious as he was, could not assuage the nostalgia and wistfulness of the venerable Ellion. For as much education as he’d obtained, he did not have a stoic face to hold back his sorrow.

“Sorry, sir. We’re docking in a moment…”

Mark Nallas is his NPC connection, and he could have well been sent along with Ellion on an expedition into the unknown.

Aside from the College of Envoys and Operatives for Glorious House Xiltora, Phaelanna was more of a wild child. Like most Drow Noblewoman she learned the arts of torture, the edicts of their beliefs, manipulation and basic combat. She, however, turned from the demonic and devilish rhetoric of her mother's aunts and sisters to embrace the old elven deity of Calistra. Her savored sting. She excelled here on her world until her adolescence when she went with her mother to bridge a deal to sell some of the Drow weapons to a bunch of Free Captains Pirates. It was this journey that caused her people's ship to be destroyed by the Hellknights who were there to stop the pirates and got Drow gun runners too.

Phaelanna was not slain in combat but instead arrested and thrown in a penal colony for her formidable years. In there she culminated her power in Calistra, selling herself and the secrets she gathered. Eventually with a few well-placed means of manipulation threw secrets and lies managed to get several of her fellow prisoners killed all to increase her chances to get out. Which worked.

Unfortunately, after she left she was no longer welcomed by her people. She was deemed too risky.Also from another exiled drow she learned too that her religious belief was not acceptable and thus she was alone with nothing but the clothes on her back. So she joined The Starfinder Society and as a unique spy for The Peacekeepers.

After a few decades, she began to help the peacekeepers apprehend a variety of pirates and other criminals in Pact World system. She became quite good at it, as well as gathering much-needed information from even some of the hardest of criminals. She learned of plots to hurt Absalom Station and even threats to incite wars, illegal research, even Android Slavery Sales. It was like that up until she lost her arm to a Vesk Military Offical who secretly wanted to start up a war with the Pact Worlds. Unfortunately for both of them, she lost her arm and about died and the Vesk, One General Slazeck lost an eye to her whip.

Phaelanna was allowed to work over reports and eventually get her a new arm. One with some special attachments. At her desk, she would send reports and techniques to a variety of different Peacekeepers and the government of the Pact Worlds. Up until she once again had a chance to go after the warmongering Slazeck!

She gathered her gear and went out to hunt him down. As she did she fought herway through his personal guard on his ship.She took them down with weapon and spell. In the end getting the giant Vesk in handcuffs for crimes against the Pact Worlds. Unfortunately, he was extradited back to the Veskarium. All of which blew up in her face. She was taken off the Peacekeepers and sent on to the joint task force mission The Explorator Project. Now she has to figure out where she was in all of this and how she would best fit into the overall project?

First I'd like more stuff about "present" Ellion. It's fine for an odd crew member or a starting character but why is he in command? Why would lower ranking crew members defer to his leadership or wisdom or cunning intellect?

Second is the circumstances of his spacing. The end of the first age was anything but kind to the elves and most ran wailing back to Castrovel through the gates. The rest? Became drow. When Golarion itself disappeared it took everything with it at least as far as anyone could tell.

So more likely Ellion would have been snatched up like the sleeping holy man he was and spirited back to Castrovel where the screaming angry beard men wouldn't kill him to death. So then where would he end up? From there practically anywhere maybe even back to Golarion for a time.

Ultimately I do have an alternative that sound amusing I want to run by you. You end up on Castrovel sleeping the literal millenia away. However who you were and your original contributions have all been but forgotten. After all you were relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things you know with entire empires falling brand new gods being born and slaughtered some weird guy called Aroden dying whilst giving a middle finger to Fate breaking that all up.

Anyway, eventually you become little more than a curio or a tourist attraction and eventually ended up in the illegal collection of a wealthy individual who, with the authorities knocking on his door vents the whole thing into space where your story continues from.

Outside of that the idea is novel but needs a bit more polish.