This is the start of a new era for you, Starfinder recruits. For today is the day of your Commencement.
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In a recording booth, a gnome with shock purple hair sits next to a robot clearly done up in a likeness of a gnome, complete with welded on metal spikey ‘hair.’
”Well, it’s happened again, you’ve waisted another perfectly good hour listening to ‘Ship Talk.’
The drone ‘laughs,’ as the gnome continues.
”And even though Triune itself regrets giving Gnomes drift communication technology whenever he hears US say it, this is NPR, New Pact-worlds Radio.”
The Gnome flicks a switch to begin the pre-recorded end-of-show credits as he and his drone take off their recording headphones and disengage from the audio gear.
“Another great episode,” says the gnome.
”Another? That would imply we had a previous good episode!”
The two start laughing
”Fine, another mediocre episode!” the gnome manages to get out between chortles.
Just then, a message appears on the gnome’s comlink.
”Oh, Starfinders want us, was that graduation thing today?”
”Of course it was, I tell ya, you’d loose your head if it wasn’t attached!” the drone chides him.
”What’re you talking about, your the one with the removable head!”
The two gaffaw as they head out of the recording booth and towards the lorespire complex.
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Arnold was going to be late.
he had bought this rust bucket of a ship because it was cheap and would be able to get him where he needed.
But now, it had quit working, all he had was life support, the comm, and partial gravity.
He was sitting at the main control panel. He had managed to rout all functions to that one panel.
He had a repeating broadcast for help, and he was trying to rig something up to allow power to flow normally again. having to do it manually because of some downed systems that would normally allow him to do that normally.
"If I can't get this working in time, I'm going to miss it" he said.
"sir, you might be able to better re-rout power through junction J-12" Age said indicating the one he meant by putting one of his tiny legs on it.
He sighed "thanks age, I'll try it".
He wired it through and turned on power through that line.
the lights came on and the gravity started working at peak efficiency.
"now lets see if we can get this rust bucket moving" he said as he got up and started to pilot the ship to the Graduation grounds
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“...vegetation strangely inconsistent with the surrounding ecosystems,” Saeron holds her comm unit at arm's length before her, addressing the device's tiny lens as she sits on a bunk in her small room. “My friends, there was very little that would sustain life. And yet, here,” she rotates her wrist to bring an assortment of plant samples spread across her blanket into view. “I have these wonderful specimens as proof that plant life, if not thriving, was surviving in that strange place.”
“As you can see, my benefactor has not only provided sanctuary from those that would harm me, but also granted opportunity for scientific study beyond that available to me on Castrovel. I have also received some small measure of self-defense training that some day I will not need live in fear of retribution.”
“And now, it is time to bid you farewell once more, my friends. Thank you all for your support. I will speak to you again soon.” A click of a button ends the recording. A few swipes of the comm unit and the vidlog is soon uploading to her channel space.
She sighs and falls back to land on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s time to make a decision, she reminds herself. I think you’ve already made up your mind. Saeron throws an arm across her eyes in frustration. Oh gods, I don't know!
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Standing in the hallway, not so far from where the Commencement was to begin, M'linda leans against the wall staring out over the station, arms crossed over her chest in thought.
If I hadn't distanced myself from my people enough, the next few moments will put the nail into the proverbial coffin. She sighs outwardly, steeling herself to accept the choices that she had already made. "Nothing to be gained now by second-guessing myself," she tells herself quietly. "You made your choice. The Starfinders are a noble group, if a little self-absorbed. And the Guardians have given you a goal worth fighting for. Even if my own people can't see it the same way."
She stands a little straighter, resolve almost literally glowing in her eyes. Whatever conflict she had a moment ago burned by the stars and scattered through the void like so much dust.
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Standing in the corner at 6' 250#, the grey skin, green eyed android known as URDOA peers around the room, the dark green circuitry pattern flaring slightly brighter at a slow pulse.
At least there is at least one elf present. Not one of the ones that found me de-activated and without most of my memories in that abandoned factory. One day I will find the corporation and get my answers, but today, I start out as a new Starfinder.
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Presently
Jeen lost power
"I should have never bought this ship."
He looked at the burnt out circuits and relies
"no way am I getting there on time"
He got out and went over to the controls
"well at least comms are still up, along with life support and Gravity"
No sooner had he said this then Gravity shut down and he started floating.
"Crap. Ok, I'm going to send out a distress call
He Recorded his call for help and put it on repeat.
Hopefully someone would come by and help him out.
But for now, all he could do is sit and wait.
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A Lashunta, Dayama from his build, enters the room. He's average height and lean, the most striking things about him are the intensity in his eyes' stern glare and the firm purpose in his movements. His armor bares the emblems of the Stewards.
He stops briefly in the doorway, letting his gaze stop on each individual just long enough to be disconcerting. After nodding a greeting he moves to an empty chair, taking the seat silently.
A Starfinder shuttle arrives in response to the recorded call issued by Jeen Scott. "Another rough day, eh?" mumbles the dwarven pilot. "Word is that you are needed back at the Station, Recruit. Some people think that AI's are patient, but it's actually a common misconception. They like to keep things on a very tight timetable."
After your graduation ceremony has concluded , you each manage to make your way to the Lorespire Complex, the famed headquarters of the Starfinder Society located aboard Absalom Station. You have each received a summons requesting your appearance, which was sent by Guidance, the Starfinder Society’s compiled intelligence of Starfinder personalities.
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." the artificial intelligence requests in a pleasant tone. "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.”
After the new Starfinder recruits have had an opportunity to comply, the artificial intelligence continues, “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.”
The indicators on your armor displays, comm links, and datapads all quickly activate noting the arrival of incoming data. Upon review, you see that Guidance has sent information providing an overview of the factions to each of you.
“Once you have completed a faction leader’s desired mission, that leader will signal this unit to indicate the mission is finished.” Guidance explains. [b]“Once all missions are complete, you may return here to the Lorespire Complex to finish your Commencement and prepare for future missions with the Society.[/ooc]
As you consider which faction leader to approach first, you may recall some information that may help you with your decision.
Absalom Station is the cultural hub of the Pact Worlds. Races from every planet in the system, including those once prominent on lost Golarion, can be found on the station.
People around the station are increasingly amenable to Starfinders. They respect both the dogged veteran field agents who were not lost in the Scoured Stars disaster and the new recruits, whose presence brings renewed hope. Stating one’s association with the Starfinder Society is likely to garner support from the locals of Absalom Station.
A host of starships, known locally as the Armada, orbits Absalom Station. Ships from the Armada are often starships that have taken advantage of the station’s Starstone core—a mystical device that allows for quick travel through the Drift back to Absalom Station. The ships of this fleet are increasingly at risk of bringing back undetected alien life, simply because the policing Stewards lack the numbers to search every orbiting ship.
Likewise, there are also opportunities to ask around, gathering information from the local, in order to learn even more about Absalom Station.
Everyone is excited about the upcoming junkrace. Apparently some nobody mouthed off to Ratrod, the reigning junkrace champion. People know that trash talking really gets under Ratrod’s fur and wonder whether there will be more harsh words exchanged before the race.
The latest prerelease song from sugar-pop sensation Strawberry Machine Cake is about to be released. Unlike previous releases, the band is putting out a limited-edition physical copy prior to the concert when the released single and additional tracks are scheduled to debut and become available in digital form.
Word on the street is that a 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.
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M'linda walks into the Lorespire Complex, the memory of the ceremony still fresh in her mind, when the hologram forms in front of them. She startles a moment and takes a step back before regaining her composure.
She bows in response to the greeting, but remains silent for the moment. When prompted, she provides the DNA sample, and agrees to the implant without complaint. She then stands at the ready as Guidance debriefs the group on their assignment.
Once she receives the information that was sent, M'linda gives it all a cursory examination as Guidance finishes explaining the parameters. At this point she turns to her fellow graduates and says, "Well then. I believe that I've seen some of you around, but I have never introduced myself. I am M'linda Songshine, from the planet of Castrovel." She pauses a moment, as if to gather her thoughts. "Though I supposed I shouldn't say that anymore. Moving along, it seems that the first order of business is to decide who to see first. The best course of action may be to give our top preferences and do our best to best to prioritize the order from there."
She creates simple template and sends it to the other memebers, wherein they vote for their preference with a numerical value, including her own choices:
1. Exo-Guardians
2. Wayfinders
3. Acquisitives
4. Dataphiles
M'linda guages the reactions of the others and adds, "Unless there are other suggestions."
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The Lashunta provides the cheek swab, and places his hand on the glowing panel for the implant. "Thank you Guidance."
After M'linda introduces herself he steps forward, "I am Baròleg Konstantu, of Vercite. Though as a Steward I served where there was need." As the list pops up, "Agreed, though I am not partial to any particular order. Your list should suffice. Before we begin, we should also share any information we have about this station that may impact our duties..."
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Having taken some time to collect her thoughts, Saeron breathes deeply and then exhales. Silvery-blue swirls spiral out above her pale brow toward her temples, shimmering in the dim light of the room. Sitting up on her bed, her eyes come to rest on the recently acquired botanical samples laying on her blankets, before travelling to the backpack that holds the entirety of her belongings and, with some apprehension, the newly purchased rifle leaning against her bedside table.
”You've made it this far, now it's time to see it through,” she announces to the empty room, resolute. Gathering the assorted biological samples, she carefully returns them to the safety of the satchel she carries, slung across a shoulder. Fastening her backpack in place, she slips her rifle over her other shoulder and departs.
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The details of the graduation a blur, Saeron greets Guidance upon her arrival to Starfinder HQ. She follows directions, depositing the cheek swab in the receptacle provided. Following a momentary hesitation, she places her hands behind her back and politely declines the implant.
Making her way over to join her now fellow agents, the middle-aged lashunta acknowledges their introductions before adding her own. ”Congratulations on your graduation. I'm Saeron.” Turning to regard M'linda she adds, ”Also formerly of Castrovel. Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo.” The latter is made in highly competent, if not precisely fluent, Elvish.
Saeron confirms Baròleg's knowledge of Absalom Station, adding some detail about the Armada. She nods in agreement with the rumours he shares, but her eyes widen at mention of the beast in Downlow - clearly this was news to her.
She completes her own preferences, sending them to M'linda:
1. Dataphiles
2. Exo-Guardians
3. Wayfinders
4. Acquisitives
"I am happy with your suggestions, however, I recommend we start with Historia-7, here in the Lorespire. It will save us from wasting time with unnecessary back-and-forth since we can start our first mission and visit the other contacts as we go."
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Making her way over to join her now fellow agents, the middle-aged lashunta acknowledges their introductions before adding her own. ”Congratulations on your graduation. I'm Saeron.” Turning to regard M'linda she adds, ”Also formerly of Castrovel. Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo.” The latter is made in highly competent, if not precisely fluent, Elvish.
M'linda shows surprise at hearing her native tongue spoken at all, if not perfectly. She nods to Saeron with a smile of appreciation. "Thank you. Truely." she replies to the lashunta woman. "I thought I would never heard such words spoken to me again."
She listen's to Saeron's suggestion, and nods in acceptance. "There's logic in your words. While time may not be of the essence at this point, the lest time wasted the sooner we can carry out our duties."
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Saeron returns a small smile.
"My... former... work was in scientific research. Usually involving a significant amount of field work. Given my aptitude for botanical science, this often meant spending a lot of time in the wilds. We would often encounter Elven outposts as part of our exploration or for means of resupply. Not to mention, I have always enjoyed learning new things."
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M'linda nods to Saeron, her smile fading away."Unfortunately, my position has forced me to become Forlorn."She pauses a moment. "No," she corrects herself. "I made that decision myself. But it was a well educated on. My sense of the universe was made broader when I became Solarian, and so I couldn't continue to hide away with the rest of my people. I knew that I had to do me. And be more."
M'linda looks around at her surroundings with what seems like a new perspective, like she was seeing it for the first time. [Hence why I am here."[/b]
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Baròleg listens to the exchange between Saeron and M'linda, and turns to Guidance, "Guidance, are you aware of the tasks being assigned to us. Is there any further information or recommendations for accepting the tasks?"
If Guidance has any recommendations Baròleg suggests starting there, otherwise he takes out an archaic metal coin from his pocket. "A tradition from when people didn't use cred sticks... Heads M'linda, tails Saeron."
Baròleg listens to the exchange between Saeron and M'linda, and turns to Guidance, "Guidance, are you aware of the tasks being assigned to us. Is there any further information or recommendations for accepting the tasks?"
"The faction leaders have not provided this one with details of the tasks that they intend to dispense." Guidance responds. "Accordingly, I cannot provide with you any additional information. When it comes to recommendations, this one favors efficiency. However, with no further information available, this one is unable to adequately assess the order of tasks that would be most efficient in execution."
The holographic image pauses for a moment, then adds, "Of all of the present locations of the faction leaders, the Lorespire Complex is, of course, the closest. Yet, regardless of where one meets with a faction leader, one would anticipate that the assigned tasks would require the attendant to venture beyond the initial location in order to see the task to completion."
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Jeen Scott Stumbles into the room and hastily puts his hand on the green pad for the chip
"sorry I'm late, had to be picked up as it where
He looks around at the group, seeing the she elf he speaks in
with a small pause he finally asks "so, where to first?"
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M'linda nods to Jeen, uncertain of the meaning to his elvish speech, but presses on. "If that's where we stand, then let us make our way to Historia-7 and see what task she has for us."
M'linda checks the information that was sent to them all on the locations of the faction leaders, selects the Dataphiles leader's location and follows the directions on the digital map.
From your current audience with Guidance, you head through the majestic halls and busy corridors of the vast Lorespire Complex. The Lorespire Complex serves as the home and heart of the Starfinder Society. It is a striking campus dedicated to knowledge. Communal labs and historical departments study the Archives’ massive collection of artifacts and texts, gathered by generations of agents from across the galaxy. A quick search of the directory indicates Historia-7 frequents the Archives’ Cortex, a computerized matrix containing digital records of the Starfinder Society’s most prominent discoveries.
Upon arriving outside of her office, you are ushered inside. The android faction leader reclines on a raised chair and is plugged into the local infosphere when the doors open. The neural cables detach themselves from her neck as she swivels in her seat to address the new arrivals.
“Greetings, Starfinders,” she says calmly. “I am Historia-7. If you are seeking a mission from me, please be aware that my request requires both discretion and speed. Do not accept it if you feel incapable of working within these parameters."
She pauses briefly, but does not seem to make any effort to ascertain your feelings.
“I discovered someone recently hacked into Bluerise Tower’s computer systems and stole a large amount of sensitive data from the resident corporations." she continues. "I wish to be privy to this information. I managed to trace the hacker’s location through many proxies and erased the trail so that station and corporate security should be delayed in their pursuit. This deception will not fool them for long, so you must move quickly to retrieve the data before they can recover it. I will leave you to decide what to do with the hacker afterward, but should it be feasible, I believe that person would be an asset to the Society.”
"Do you have any inquiries?" she asks.
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M'linda greets the faction leader with a curt nod, being quickly reminded of the abrupt, and sometimes callus, nature of androids. "Good to meet you, Historia-7. We have been tasked to help you in however you see fit. We will do nothing more than our best."
She is nearly ready to retract her previous statement, though, when she hears the particulars of the task. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to challenge your motives, but is there a particular reason why we are stealing corporate data?"
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Jeen stands back
looking around the room
he taps on a small device mounted to his right arm.
a small device rolls out of sights, moving from Jeen to the wall.
He was trying to listen, but he really wanted to know of few things about the room.
He input some info into the device an put his attention back on Historia-7.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to challenge your motives, but is there a particular reason why we are stealing corporate data?"
If the android is offended by the elf's pointed inquiry, she does not seem to show it.
"Bluerise Tower is a private office structure maintained by multiple corporations and legally protected to the point that even the station’s Stewards have difficulty entering. Why these corporations need such absolute sovereignty over their own affairs is a question of great interest to many people, including myself." Historia-7 explains. [b]"I believe the companies know more than they let on, and that the Society needs to stay informed, particularly in its present, vulnerable state."
The faction leader then states, flatly, "If you do not feel incapable of working within these parameters, then do not accept the assignment."
"If we encounter hostilities from agents of the corporation, what are our rules of engagement?"
"You are being requested to secure the data without initiating any hostilities. The manner in which you do so is left to your discretion." Historia-7 responds.
She momentarily swivels her seat to examine the incoming contents on a nearby screen, then again turns toward you, adding, "However, should you find yourself, a fellow agent, or an innocent civilian within imminent risk of harm, you are permitted by the laws of this Station to utilize reasonable force to secure the safety of those in harm's way."
Historia-7's visual receptors seem to blankly scan the room. "Are there any further inquiries?" she asks.
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Absorbing the information, M'linda nods in satisfaction. "Nothing further from me. I am satisfied with the assignment."
M'linda waits briefly for anyone else to pose their questions, then settles into the head of the pack in search of the hacker. She follows the directions provided by Historia-7, but keeps her eyes and ears open to her surroundings and her companions.
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Cheeks coloured, Saeron is a little nervous meeting the leader of her chosen faction in person for the first time.
All too aware of the effects of corporate abuse of power, Saeron doesn't share M'linda's initial hesitation. However, aware that not all corporations are exploitive or nefarious, any concerns she may have had are addressed by Historia-7's clarification.
"I also accept the task. Any leads on where we should start looking for this hacker?"
Historia-7 provides you with an address to a flat in Drifter’s End.
Upon arrival at the coordinates given by Historia-7, you find an apartment that resembles a cement cube, with several tomato plants in plastic barrels sitting on an otherwise barren porch.
The sharp-eyed elf quickly spots from a distance a young human man, who appears to be tending and hand-pollinating tomato plants, outside of the apartment.
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Like M'linda, the sight of the young man nuturing a garden in an otherwise barren place brings a smile to her face. While observing the gardener's work, she runs an eye over his methods and the success of the crop.
Agreed, Saeron sends telepathically to her companions. This seems to be the place, according to the coordinates we were given. She checks the data on her comm unit one more time to make certain.
Life is tough for people around here. Many will want to avoid any trouble. While making our investigation, it might be best if one or two of us at a time approach people, to avoid intimidating or frightening anyone unnecessarily.
M'Linda notes that the apartment that Historia-7 sent you to is on the ground floor of a larger complex containing several dozen apartments, a number of which--even from the exterior--appear to be unoccupied. A few have even been vandalized.
Saeron notes the tomato crop is modest, though healthy. To have survived this long and produce fruit, the plants would have required consistent and attentive care.
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"well, what are we waiting for. lets go in" he says, getting out of whatever vehicle they are in and walking up to the door
He taps the device on his arm, then pulls a small bit out of it and puts it in one of his ears showing that his ears are slightly pointed when he moves his hair out of the way.
Baròleg spots nothing more unusual during his surveillance of the exterior of the apartment building.
Looking through the window of the apartment corresponding to the address provided by the android faction leader, he spies boxes of nutrient broth, gardening tools, and various cultural knickknacks cluttering the floor of the flat. An elderly, human woman wearing a blue-and-white abaya can be seen slowly making her way through the room. She occasionally pauses for a moment and looks around as if momentarily disoriented, before resuming her way through the crowded objects within the apartment.
On the front porch of the apartment, the young man continues tending to the tomato plants, seemingly unaware of the fact that he is under observation.
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M'linda sorts through the information provided by Baròleg, and nods at Saeron's suggestion. "OK," she responds. The young gardener seems like the first best possibility, at the moment, and the most likely to bolt if we don't pin him down immediately. I'll lead, if you can try to put him at ease, Saeron. Everyone else keep your wits about you."[/b]
She walks up to the young man, speaking to him only when within close proximity. "Excuse me please, sir. May we have a moment of your time?"
The young man looks around as if trying to determine to whom the elven woman is speaking. When he realizes that she is talking to him, he awkwardly answers, "Oh, um, sure." He puts down a container of people absentmindedly wiping his yellowed hands on his pants. "You don't look like you live around here. Are you lost? What can I do for you?"
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Baròleg steps up beside M'linda. "We're Starfinders, we've been made aware of a theft," he lifts his hand showing the glowing emblem before offering in greeting, "Our investigation has lead us to this complex. We'd like to ask you some questions about who has lived here, or any strange occurrences that may have happened recently." Baròleg then takes a moment to introduce the team...
"Whoah! Hold the comm!" the young looks up rather surprised. "I don't know what was taken or why you came here, but you must've got some bad data, Jack. 'Cause I live here. Me and my Nuna. But, we sure ain't no crims!"
"As for strange things around here," he continues, "you with your glowing hand, your elf friend, and those others there. Y'all are the strangest things that have been on this block as long as I can remember."
Baròleg can tell that the boy seems confused and a bit offended by what he perceives as the suggestion that he might be a thief or otherwise doing something wrong.
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"You've done a wonderful job with those tomatoes," Saeron smiles at the young man. "I can see you give them lots of care and attention. I can tell you'd do a great job taking care of your Nuna, too."
"We don't suspect you or your Nuna, but you might be able to help us. Could we speak with her, too?"
"Well, anyone who knows her tomatoes can't be too bad, I suppose." the man says, visibly pleased the damaya lashunta is showing an interest in his plants. "I'll be right back."
The man leaves the porch by entering into the apartment through a modest door.
After a few moments, at the door of the apartment appears an elderly woman. Long, white hair covers many of her facial features.
"Oh my!" she cries weakly from behind the door. "Jubair? Are these are the strangers you mentioned?""
"Yes, Nuna." the young man says in response. Jubair stands by her side."These people are lookin' for some thief, Nuna."
"Thief?!" the old woman responds. "Well, I don't see why they'd be coming 'round to bother us with the matter." she says. The woman reaches for the door to open it. Clearly struggling, she pauses and motions for the young man to help her. After a few moments, he seems to get the idea and opens the door for her.
"Still, visitors are visitors." she scolds the young man mildly. "They deserve to be treated with dignity and respect."
The elderly woman turns toward the party members and offers a weak, confused smile. "My name is Ceren. Welcome to my home." she says with genuine courtesy.
"Please pardon, my grandson, Jubair." the woman continues. "He is better with plants than people. "
"I am not sure that I can help you find whatever it is that you may be lookin' for." she begins as she gestures as an invitation for you to enter through the door held upon by Jubair. "But, I am certain that our discussion would go more smoothly over a shared pot of tea. Please, do come in, won't you?"
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"Thank you indeed, miss Ceren," M'linda responds, motion that she will follow their host into the cluttered house. She tells URDOA, before going inside, "Don't let either security team get the drop on us."
Once they are further into the home, M'linda speaks up again, "I wish to be clear, the person we are searching for did not steal anything from us. On the contrary, we are hear to not only retrieve the stolen items, but to protect said person from the company that is tracing them. And perhaps hire them on." She looks at Jubair with a critical eye, before adding. "Is there any way that you could help us?"