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"Hey you!!! Big guy! or you will have to face the"
He then goes into Ssssppppooooooooookkkyyy voice
"The Mysterious Seven"
Pon's questions surprise the Stelliferan. Oh, everyone respects the Azlanti. I like to give them what they want, so that they lose interest and can go on with their very important lives. And back to their very important homes. But why are you asking? If you're Azlanti, you know that you are the most important beings in the universe, and should understand that we lesser creatures are not worthy of your attention! The telepathic tone of the little stelliferan is cheery.
Meanwhile, Half-Red finishes up Minos's purchases. You wish to find Talmrin? Let me show you. Half-Red creates a crude map of the promenade on her skin and zips through the tunnels, ending in a nondescript chamber. She then turns a bronze color and then taps out a rapid pattern on her mine cart with a watery tendril that splashes a little. There. Does that help?
Meanwhile the Xaarb slumps and seems to shrink in on himself as Wint becomes scary. "Growf?" he asks. He looks down at his blanket, on which he has laid out a couple suits that an Azlanti officer might wear, and a few other suits of armor. He taps the suits and looks at Wint. "Growf?" The xaarb is obviously a merchant, but they clearly haven't been doing much business due to their prior attitude. But now, he looks at Wint expectantly.
After concluding the simple business with Half-Red, he smiles "Yes, I can see that nicely"
At some point Minos makes his way back to their guide Hassachir, "Although my sample is small it seems many wrikichee like to tinker with starships. A fellow traveler we met on our way here made a point of letting us know that our ship does not seem to blend in well around here. We have some electronic codes, but still a larger scan would most likely betray our origin. Have you worked on many more native Azlanti ships and could you offer to squib our ship?"
Wint looks at the Xaarb and slowly reaches over and touches (NOT pick up, just touches) the two Azlanti officers uniforms.
He then shrugs, trying to ask the Xaarb what the Xaarb wants for the two uniforms
+8 Culture, +13 Prof Housekeeper
Wint turns to his friends, hoping one of them will have a clue what to offer the Xaarb :-)
Pon looks at the diminutive creature with a smirk and a cocked head, "What if I were't an Azlanti?"
As the Nuar Minos looks at the tunnel map, he unfolds it in real space in his head, and realizes that although it is approaching from a completely different direction, he thinks it leads near the odheo nest that you burned.
Meanwhile, the Xaarb suddenly brings up its fingers and hands in some elaborate sign language, and calls,
It hastily pulls out a crumpled and greasy sign out from under one of the blankets. As he does so, he pulls more and more stuff out from under his blankets to show Wint.
Battery (10) 1 60 each
Rounds, small arm (300 rounds) 1 40 for 30 rounds
Rounds, longarm and sniper (250 rounds) 1 75 for 25 rounds
Arc pistol, static 2 750
Bone cestus, austereAA 2 600
Electrovore gloves, staticAA 2 750
Flame doshko, ember 2 750
Iridishell, basic 2 90 for 20 rounds
Rounds, heavy (200 rounds) 2 90 for 20 rounds
Azlanti Regimental dress I (2) 3 1,450 each
Battle dress, AG trooper 3 1,650
Carbon skin, graphite 3 1,220
Golemforged plating II 3 1,610
Petrol tank, high-capacity (4) 3 280 each
Starheart cannon, red starPW 3 1,300
Battery, high-capacity (5) 4 330 each
Battery, super-capacity (2) 4 390 each
Curve blade, carbon steel 4 2,230
Frag grenade II (3) 4 700 each
Battery, ultra-capacity 5 445
Cryopike, tactical 5 3,360
Sonic rifle, thunderstrike 5 3,400
Zero pistol, frostbite-class 5 3,060
Laser pistol, corona 6 4,270
Plasma doshko, red star 6 4,650
Stationwear, elite 6 4,100
Vesk overplate I 6 3,91
Meanwhile, Half-Red's watery form fluctuates as she takes in Pon's comment. Your excellency, is this a trick question? Then she pauses to study you. If you were not an Azlanti, you would not be terribly important, and not need to rush away to your very important home. If you were not an Azlanti, you might even be able to fraternize with us lesser races. But since you are an Azlanti, this is just a rhetorical question, correct?
Wint uses the communicator to contact the others
"Uh, guys, I want to buy some uniforms. But I have nothing to sell and no money. Can one of you come give me some money?"
Prosper leans over Wint's shoulder and peers over the greasy pricing list with a vaguely disgusted expression. She hmphs, then says in Azlanti "Well, I cannot allow my subordinates to walk around looking as scruffy as you do in that outworlder armor. Fine, I will give you a small dispensation so that you can make yourself presentable. Do not squander it. And I expect you will make good on this debt."
She hands Wint a credstick and at the same time gives him a covert wink and grin.
The Paralith loses its grip on Prosper's flamethrower, so it grabs back its mystery box and keeps following Prosper around, shoving things at her, and tapping on her gear in a rather demanding fashion. It seems have become her big blue hulking shadow.
It shoves a grenade into Prosper's hands, and starts tugging on Prosper's other rifle, the pulse caster rifle. The grenade isn't primed. It's just stuff.
Ooh... So where are you going to sell that loot?
Seeing an opportunity to distance himself from Prosper, Pon asks Minos for directions and heads to the supposed place to meet Talmrin. As he walks, his skin begins shifting toward the deep red color he originally wore.
Tapping a pattern, huh? I suppose that small, bulbous eyed creature wasn't entirely unhelpful.
Other than important things (spices, bath salts, Singing Azlanti chefs, etc :-)) he has only taken ANYTHING when there are lots and lots of them around and everybody else has taken their choice first.
Somebody else has to step in and bargain. Or Wint will just keep adding stuff until the Xaarb looks happy
Wint takes the cred stick and hands it over to the Xaarb. He then tentatively grabs the two uniforms
"Ok? This good?"
"Xaarb, our group has a ship loaded down with items we want to sell. You are going to buy it."
"GROWF?" The Xaarb seems alarmed at that, but then he looks from the scary Dalinar to the even scarier Wint and he deflates. "Growf," he sighs in agreement as he looks at the list of gear that you are selling.
The Xaarb totally allows Wint to pick up the two Azlanti dress suits, and starts signing at the picture of your inventory list. "Growf?"
★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★
Meanwhile, to no one's surprise, Pon goes off on his own through the pipes to the former parasite nest. He finds the mess of blood, burst insect eggs, and scorch marks. There was clearly a fight here, and not long ago. There is also an empty room with another set of pipes.
Pon, what do you do?
With the directions given from Minos, Pon goes into the adjacent empty room. He stands for a moment looking around for any indication of any creature.
Pon then curls his middle finger and taps on the nearest pipe, tap-tap-tapping tap-tappity-tap-tap-tap.
At least no one else is here. I'll looks super foolish if this isn't right.
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Finding himself alone with Half-Red after Pon rushes off and Minos wanders away, Spec looks around a bit awkwardly now that he has no more conversation to relay..."Umm, thank you for the information Miss Half-Red, it was most kind of you to provide. I apologize for my "Azlanti" companion, he sometimes has .... trouble ... relating well to others, but I'm sure it had absolutely nothing to do with your gracious service, or your wonderful little shop."
He looks around again and appears to become slightly distressed at being left behind.
"I really had better get going before we all fall apart, but you were an absolute joy to talk to. Maybe if I get a chance to come back here I can come back and learn some more about that fascinating color-shifting language you have?"
He begins backing away before he bows jerkily and offers the traditional xaursi faerie feather farewell display before hurrying away to see what is going on with the terrifying fuzzy mouth-creature.
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On his way past he telepathically contacts Hassachir and mind-whispers "Umm, so those two "merchants" seem a little bit communication-challenged .... and terrifyingly large! Do either the Xaarb or the Paralith have any specific languages they understand well that I could use mind-speech to accelerate our commerce and make sure that noone is too terribly upset later?"
The sounds of the rhythmic tapping echo from one pipe to another, reverberating in a soft chorus with each other until they finally die out. A minute passes without response, then two, then three. Patience eventually pays off, as the soft sound of nails clicking against metal heralds the arrival of a creature in response. A pair of huge, shimmering eyes appear in the darkness of a large bronze pipe twenty feet above the ground, then blink in curiosity as they regard the creature down below. “Foreign critter in Azlant space? Nay... Human! But what sort of human, pray? Thy color is not one found in the realms of Azlant. I have heard of such coloration, but creatures of the Pact Worlds dare not come here. Or do they? And why come, when the risk be so great?” the being asks, craning her long neck to get a better view of the man who summoned her. “What dost thou seek here, human from so very far away?”
The technician Talmrin resembles a cross between a white-furred cat and a weasel. She has large ears, a long, flexible neck, a thin flexible body, and short limbs and paws that look suitable for burrowing. Her eyes are huge and clouded, and she is wearing colorful layers of silver and blue clothing, though nothing that would impede her movement in a tight space.
On his way past he telepathically contacts Hassachir and mind-whispers "Umm, so those two "merchants" seem a little bit communication-challenged .... and terrifyingly large! Do either the Xaarb or the Paralith have any specific languages they understand well that I could use mind-speech to accelerate our commerce and make sure that noone is too terribly upset later?"
Those are excellent questions, Spec! I have made extensive study of both the Xaarb and the Paralith, and would be happy to share what I know. Hassachir tells him, cheerfully. The Xaarb are rather aggressive, but once dominated, they're submissive enough, so the Azlanti tolerate their presence on the edges of their empire. Our Xaarb understands Azlanti, and er... Vesk. It was interested in learning Vesk from me because I told it that Vesks were the most terrifying predators outside Azlanti space.
Hassachir pauses, cocking her head. That may be why Wint managed to cow it so thoroughly. It may just be assuming that the skittermander is a Vesk. They don't 'speak' any language because they lack the vocal apparatus, but they do have their own lovely sign language, Xaarb, that I devoted a little time to learning. Languages are my hobby, and this one is so elegant. Hassachir mimes the fast and fluttering movement of hands that's the Xaarb's main language, something surprising delicate for creatures that are so brash and full of teeth. I do think that the Xaarb would understand your mind speech perfectly well, though.
Then Hassachir looks at the Paralith, and sighs. Your friend should just be proactive and offer it something that she doesn't want. As far as I know, the Paralith does not understand any language. I have managed to make it understand that it cannot just take things... it has to trade them. So now it wants to trade all the time. Perhaps you could distract it with a trade?
Also, now that we are speaking privately, I must ask. Hassachir clacks her claws nervously. You need to mod your ship to hide its origin. You are seeking out Talmrin, who is not always a creature of the most sterling reputation. You are doing all this in the same planetary system as Gulta. You're not mercenary enough to be smugglers or gun runners, though you have arms and guns to sell. What are you doing here, so near the Prison Moon?
When being diplomatic seems to have no effect on the Paralith, Prosper starts to get nervous. She looks around for her allies, but they seem to have all made themselves scarce, practically abandoning her to be eaten by this giant blue trading enthusiast. She looks worriedly over her shoulder at it. "Uh, if we trade, you won't eat me, right? I don't even taste very good, I swear."
She takes the most recent thing the Paralith tapped, her pulse rifle, and very carefully passes it over. When she gets a random grenade in return, she nearly drops it. "Uh huh. Great trading. Hopefully you won't go eating me and my friends now?" Prosper carefully backs away.
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With the Xaarb, Prosper gets filled in by Spec regarding the creature's language capabilities. She twists her mouth. "The training I got didn't cover any of this... Looks like it's up to you two."
Seeing Prosper approach, Wint looks up happily
"Ah, you're probably much better at this than I am. I've gotten the two pieces of Azlanti clothing, you should probably give him whatever he wants in return. He seems like quite a nice person, really. And he looks like he needs it more than we do"
Pon raises his eyebrows at the weasel creature's dialect. He proceeds to lean against a nearby wall and speak up, "Pact Worlds is correct. The Azlanti have taken someone from us that we want back. Taken to the prison moon. We heard word that a 'Talmrin' could augment our ship such that we could get into the prison undetected. Leads brought us here. We understand that everything has a price, what is yours?"
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Spec cracks a beaky grin at Hassachir's nerves and then slowly blinks one giant orange eye at her.
Well, why else would we be here than to make a withdrawal from the bank. It has come to our attention that there have been certain assets retained by the bank that it simply does not have the authority to possess. We are factors of the asset's custodianship and intend to repossess said asset. Whether or not penalties are to be applied to the bank remains to be determined.
One would hope that imperial loyalty would be at a low ebb this far out, at least here anyway.
He looks over to see Wint trading with the Xaarb and winces ...
Umm, I had probably get over there before Wint gives away too much, chat later? Bye!
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The professor hurries over to the Xaarb-fest with Wint and Prosper. He then tries to mentally link up with the predator... and the Xaarb and Prosper too.
Greetings Hunter, the fearsome ones wish to trade with you, many accouterments of battle have they ...
When Prosper finally trades with the Paralith, it stops being her hulking shadow. Freed from the Paralith's attention, Prosper makes her way towards the Xaarb, while the Paralith clutches its trade to its chest. Then it pauses a moment, and shoves a hat onto Prosper's head for good measure, as if weighing the trade items by weight, and wanting to make up the difference. Then it runs away.
Clippity-clop, clippity-clop, clippity-clop
Prosper, you now have a floppy hat on your head.
Meanwhile, Hassachir asks Spec, Bank? She is very confused.
When Spec joins the others by the Xaarb and speaks telepathically, the Xaarb turns to Spec, surprised. Me Xaarb. Happy to buy sell with fearsome Vesk, mightiest of warriors. He points at Wint. Also friends of fearsome Vesk, mightiest of warriors.
Pon raises his eyebrows at the weasel creature's dialect. He proceeds to lean against a nearby wall and speak up, "Pact Worlds is correct. The Azlanti have taken someone from us that we want back. Taken to the prison moon. We heard word that a 'Talmrin' could augment our ship such that we could get into the prison undetected. Leads brought us here. We understand that everything has a price, what is yours?"
"Thou seeks Gulta?" Talmrin's glittering eyes stare down at Pon. "Curiouslike. My price has several parts, oh seeker of prison cells. Part one is background information. Yours for mine. How didst thou get here, and why hath though come here without your backup? Doth thou underestimate me?" Talmrin casually pokes out a well-manicured claw out of her furry hand. "Please understand... No one insults Talmrin. Thou didst not arrive in Azlant space alone. Where are your minions?"
Minos looks around trying to count his chicks. Then realizing that Wint has convinced one of the merchants that he is a Vesk he chuckles and heads over to offer any assistance to the skittermander.
Pon's brow furrows and says testily, "I didn't realize that you were on the side of the Azlanti. I have told you why we are here, to rescue one of our people. As for the backup, I was lead to believe that the people here were not supporters of the empire. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Why would I need backup to meet with an ally? The rest of us are taking care of our supplies. I didn't think that you'd be as sensitive as that small bug-eyed creature. Surprisingly helpful, by the way." Pon pauses for a moment, as if considering something and continues. "We are in a bit of a hurry Talmrin. As much as I'd love to trade cultural niceties, the longer we spend talking, the longer that the Azlanti have our friend, which I assume means that the chance we find them alive is lessened. I'm quite confident that I can assure you that when this is all over, you can have as much information as you desire as I will likely be back here for the Pact Worlds."
"Oh, thou thinks that with an insult to change my mind?" Talmrin laughs, and shakes her head. "I am no friend to the Azlanti, true. But I am no fool, either. I wouldst see those allies of thine before this conversation goes any further."
There is a pause, and then Talmrin continues. "Mayhap I have need of some people headed to Gulta. Mayhap, indeed. But they have to be the right people. Smart people with ears to listen, and brains to think, and who don't leap into a prison half-cocked. If thy people -- who wouldst not even bother to seek me out themselves -- get caught, it's not just thy head the Azlanti will seek. Thou thought Glest bug-eyed? That screedeep runs at his own shadow, for the Azlanti murdered his brothers and took his wife and weans to Gulta. He jumps at shadows for a reason, human."
Talmrin blinks. "If thou and thy companions fail... I'll hide in these pipes and mayhap be safe. But they'll come not just for me, but for any associated with me. They'll clean out our little independent station and disassemble it for parts. It's not just my life riding on this, cretin." With that Talmrin disappears up the pipes. "Come back with thy crew, or not at all."
Pon heaves a big sigh as Talmrin leaves. Why, oh why does she have to meet with them too? he thinks to himself as he sends a short message to the rest of the crew.
[i]I found Talmrin. She wants to meet all of you. I am here.
Pon then sits down where he is and rubs his head with both hands, There's no way that the others will be able to not 'leap into a prison half-cocked'. I wonder if they have ever heard of the word subtlety?...
"Admiration: Impressive that you are discerning things on your own, Rush."
"Salutations: Greetings and hello. We are the Mysterious Seven, and have been informed that you are the one who may offer capable assistance to our cause. Offer: What is it we can do for you in return for your aid in this particular matter?"
Spec receives a private message from LINGSTON.
Whatever just spoke was not from Rush's own brain patterns. They have gone still, only somewhat active by my own efforts. The thing that lives inside him seems to be in control. For the time being, I am not detecting any hostility from it.
When Wint gets the message he heads off to help Pon. Pon doesn't often ask for help, CLEARLY he needs to help him now.
"Bye Xaarb. Nice doing business with you. Have a nice day!"
Hear the communication Minos picks up lord Dracos hoping to find anything overly critical in his paws then goes to the rest of the team. He then leads them quickly though the maze of tunnels to the location.
When he gets to the pipe exchange room he looks around. He says to Pon "So you scared them off already?"
"Yes well..," Pon starts at Minos' question as he waves a hand absently, "Talmrin was insistent on meeting everyone to gauge worthiness."
A few minutes later, the whole party emerges from the pipes and Pon is able to do the summoning tap noise on the pipes.
Tap-Tap-Tappity-Tap-Tap
The noise echoes and reverberates along the pipes until once again Talmrin re-emerges from the pipes. Eyes glowing in the darkness, she looks over the group. "Good. You hath brought the rest of your crew, human. So tell me, fine visitors of the Pact Worlds. This human tells me that you hath a friend you are rescuing from Gulta. How did you make it here, into Azlant's realm? And what do you seek from me? Mayhap I also have need of someone going to Gulta... but I need to know that you are the right someones. What talents do you bring?"
She pauses, and cocks her head, staring at Prosper and the floppy hat that the Paralith shoved on her head. "And why doth the person who needs the least help with her Azlant disguise wear that magical hat?"
"Hello there. My name is Wint. I'm very good at getting into places unnoticed. And I can fight pretty well both up close or from a distance. People often like me too. I can even scare people sometimes. I just scared a Xaarb, for example. Oh, and I'm a REALLY good cook which sometimes can be VERY useful"
Hearing that the newly found hat is magical, Minos takes a quick look at it.
"Well what do we have here?"
Minos turns towards Talmrin. "This is one of our teams strengthens. We are all good at different things. And lucky too. But luck is best not thought of as a tactical asset. As for how we got here. Our ship has a transponder from a Azlanti patrol craft, that was returning to the colony that we just liberated." Minos ponders again. "Which of course is more luck that they did not expect us there in the first place. Though luck is also just unexpected connections. With skill we are able to make the best of new connections."
Prosper adjusts her new floppy hat as she starts hauling Azlanti gear off the ship and into the Xaarb's storefront. "This. And this. And this. You're going to take all of this and be happy with the great deal we're giving you for it. You're getting it all for 10% of its sale price, right? You should be crying buckets of tears at how generous we are." She speaks in a stern Azlanti accept, but sneaks grins at Wint at every turn.
----
Prosper adjusts her new floppy hat with a pleased smile. "It is a nice hat, isn't it! I got it for free when I was brutally forced to trade with a creature that wanted to eat me. Uh, at least I think so." She tucks her hair behind her ears, then starts fiddling with the big sunburst of lace along the hat's rim "Maybe a little gaudy though. You're saying its magical too?"
Prosper extends a hand to the weasel-alien. "Uh, you're Talmrin, right? Nice to meet you! I'm Prosper. It looks like you and uh, Freen? are good friends already! As for what talents I bring..." She steps back, her skin ripples, and in a matter of seconds is a perfect mirror of Talmrin herself. "How curious, thy form hath such fine flexibility." She starts stretching and twisting as she tries out the new body.
"We have need of thy skills at engineering to refit our ship. As my companion says, we have succeeded thus far with a transponder to provide the correct signals. But we need the disguise to be complete - physical structure and all. You can do this, can you not?" As she speaks, she walks around to see Talmrin from some different angles. "Hmm, hmm. You know more of Gulta than we, so we are also in need of knowledge. In exchange, we can certainly help you with whatever you need done at Gulta."
Pon sits hunched over with his head in one hand, as he massages his forehead.
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Spec gets the message to drop everything and hurry off to Pon, and so assists Prosper in offloading their cargo to the Xaarb in as expeditious a manner as possible (yet without offering the creature enough insult to rouse it from it's "vesk"-cowed state)
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Upon reaching Talmrin, Spec steps up beside Dalinar (but just a half-step back), and bows, "Good day Ms. Talmrin, let me add my heartfelt greetings to those of my crewmates here. Please, let us know what it is you are looking for, and as Dalinar here said, we probably have someone who can do something about it ... meybe even several someones ... or is it several somethings ..?"
As he is chatting, the professor tries to get a read on Talmrin's answers and nonverbal cues.
"Report: 1 Hour and 36 minutes counting."