Surprised by Burlap's sudden apperance, the gangster drops his gun and runs off screaming from the Ysoki's sudden appearance.
Across the docks, the Davir, Soryn, Anton and Anton's droid make short work of the remaining thugs, their lifeless bodies falling to the ground. T'zor's expert aim takes his target through the eye, ridding Absalom Station of yet another criminal.
Surprised at the ferocity they were met with and not expecting this level of resistance, the remaining gangster decides to follow his screaming companion, hurrying away from the dock.
A glance at Duravor's body is all you need to tell you that the dwarf is dead. There's a burnt hole on the side of his neck where a laser bolt must have hit him, though due to how he fell, it's difficult to tell which side fired the killing shot.
You hear the sounds of the dock security forces headed towards you. Bystanders, at least those not in shock, are taking the time to come up to you and thank you for making such quick work of the gangsters, while others stand back and take time to collect themselves.
Burlap scoops up and shoulders the gangster's weapon. Finders, keepers.
Then he hustles to check on Duravor. The Ysoki slows down as he approaches. He'd seen enough corpses to know there was nothing to be done for the dwarf. "Ah, that's a damn shame. He was a good man."
Suspecting there was video surveillance on the dock, Burlap chooses to stay and speak with the authorities.
Davir sheathes out his cutlass from the second man's body, before smacking himself in the head. Leaning his head backwards and staring down the almost imperceivably sparkling white edge of the weapon, he exclaims. "Oh. That was a thing.", he says, as he flicks the blade's edge, before casually tossing it behind him, the blade collapsing into a miniscule(r) singularity.
Shuffling slowly towards Duravor's corpse, he sighs, seeing the rest gathered around very much the same man he's looking for. Oh, Karst, my boy. You found yerself a little constellation of convenience., he outwardly grunts out, before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Eh.", he says, gesturing theatrically to take off a non-existing cap. "I don't much know how much ye voiders knew 'bout poor ol' Keel here.", he shrugs, speaking out in a surprisingly clearer voice, the graveliness lending itself well to the eulogy. "Probably a lot more than meself, that's fer sure. But.", he sighs out, pulling the sides of his coat downwards. "the old dust-raker was one of the few honest men I knew. The third one out of about five. And the stars glow a little dimmer fer his loss."
He takes a step forwards, before bowing over with an awkward twist, whispering to the dwarf. "May the Drift be gentle, and her embrace kind."
That done, he affixes his non-existant hat back onto his head, and his smile shines once again as he glances at the crowds. "Ye lovely Absalomians, Absalomettes and the kind!", he roars out, bowing deeply. "Savin' ye was our pleasure, no doubt. While I'll be more than welcome in acceptin' yer gen'rous gratitudes, the most important thing is that ye say to the authorities that we were simply defendin' ye. And vouch for us receivin' a..." He overly leans to the side over the ysoki, whispering with a theatrical hiss. "Psst! Mist'r Burlap. What's the highest civilian medal 'round these parts?", he asks in a theatrical whisper.
Like most of the military, Burlap didn't pay much mind to civilian awards. He drags his memory. "The.. uh... Ribbon of Meritorious Service, I think."
Just as soon as it began, the fight is over. Soryn lowers his rifle and stands from his place behind cover, converging with the others near Duravor's lifeless body. It didn't take an expert to know the dwarf was dead; with any luck, it had been so quick that Duravor didn't even feel it. He shakes his head and slings his weapon over his shoulder once more. The Lashunta looks around the hangar bay, trying to get a sense of where the bystanders are as well as the security forces. He can't help but wonder whether any of those gangers had bounties on them. Gratitude's nice and all, he thinks, but it doesn't pay the bills.
Soryn cocks an eyebrow at Davir's sudden shift to an victory speech, but otherwise doesn't interrupt. Instead he goes back over near Anton. "Just curious," he inquires. "Was that the first firefight you've ever been in? You and your machine handled yourselves well, but it didn't seem like something you're all that used to."
With the gangers dead or escaped, T'zor stumbles over to Duravor's body. Slumping down next to the dwarf, the Shirren man can only stare at the wound in his friend's neck. "Why?" is all he can bring himself to say.
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As the fight is over Anton just kinda, sits there.
Somehow it seemed like there should be something...more. Like victory celebrations, or a counting of the corpses, or a great wailing by the losers, or random songs breaking out, or someone shouting orders to press on, or loot the corpses, or count the bannermen, or....
He turns to Viv and says the most elequent thing he can think of. "Nice Shootin', Viv."
*BeeWoop*" she replies, guns already retracting into their couplola holsters.
That...didn't seem right, but his inner contemplation is canceled as a hulking Lashunta looms over him and begins talking.
"WHaaHHA?" Anton cleverly replies as he stumbles backward, his droid deftly hovering out of the way.
Picking himself back up he does what he does best: Grins sheepishly and rubs his hair. "Yeah, well, um, back home I mostly, just sorta stay outa the way. But this, just, seemed different, 'yknow? And, Viv, see, I don't really know all how she works...yet. I just put her together from these parts I found.
So, the answer, I guess is, yeah, I ain't really shot no one afore.
You?" he replies, figuring good manners are to answer a question with a question.
It isn't long before station security arrives. They cordon off the area and begin speaking with witnesses, examining security footage, and performing general questioning. Several of the bystanders point or gesture over towards your group, and you hear the words "...heroes..." and "...saved us..." along with comments such as "...and there probably would've been more dead if not for..." In fact, thanks to Davir's speech, many of the witnesses are pressing for security forces to give you an award.
When the officers taking statements finally reach your group, the commanding officer comes with him. "Lieutenant Canber," he begins. "Can't say I support civilians carrying such weapons around," he begins, gruffly speaking through a bristling mustache, "But the consensus is such that you are heroes, so please accept my allowing you to keep your weapons while on the Station as a reward. Seems you know how to use them with discretion."
He'll stand around while you take time to give your statements, and once completed, Lt. Canber takes you all aside. "Shame for a person to be cut down in a gang fight like this. Not too surprising, the docks are one of the favored territories for the King's and the Crew to fight over, but that's life." The lieutenant sighs, and suddenly seems tired. He brushes it off before turning back to you all. "Anyway, for the time being, what are your plans while visiting our fair station? Not getting in more gang fights, I hope."
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"Actually, uh, sir, I was wondering if you had any idea about who might need a mechanic, or, sumthin'? Imma only here cause Mr. Duravor offered me a job, and now I guess that ain't gonna happen...much.
Also, do you know a Captain Imrael, or Captain Davir Karst? No, no, not him, I mean a -real- captain?"
Burlap straightens his uniform and presents his military ID to Canber. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. I'm only a recent civilian." He repeats the basics on the ID. "Corporal Burlap - retired - 85th Regiment of the Sixth Battalion... Honestly, I didn't expect a civvie transport to drop me into a hot LZ." He gives Canber his best approximation of a rueful smile. "I'm not looking for any trouble on your station, Lieutenant. I was to meet Duravor here, he's a family friend. He had a line on a job for me. Somethin' to do with ensuring miners have fair rights or somesuch. I guess I'll need to find his co-workers and deliver the bad news."
Davir is sitting on a crate, his legs dangling from the crate's edge as he regales the officer. The sound of his gauntlet scratching at the stubble covering his gray, almost leathery chin is vaguely reminiscent of the sound of walking on gravel. "Eh, the bastirds had it comin', after they shot down my fellow ore-reaper Duravor." He shakes his head. "After that, it was personal. Shame I find out he's touched so many lives to great values, only aft'r his passin'.", he sighs, regaling the rest of the impromptu 'heroes'.
"My plans, eh. Life's rides plans rough-shot, Lt. Canber, trust me 'fore ye trust a dead man.", he laughs out, before shrugging. "I feel like we ought t'have a wake fer Duravor. Then - I'll let the stars' shine shepherd my course.", he laughs out. Like hell I'm telling you jack, hound.
As he turns to leave, the fake Captain Davir Karst pats Anton's shoulder gently, before raising two empty hands at Vivian's defensive reaction. "Ease up there, I didn't shut ye down fer personal reasons, my lovely!", he argues with the robot, before nodding at the boy. "Don't bother the good Lieutenant fer work. I've had more jobs offered 'round here than I've had warm meals." He laughs out. "Unfortunately for them, I've got 'bout two marketeable talents...", he starts saying as he gently nudges the boy away from the lieutenant and leaning down into his ear. "Do ye a favour. Ye stop lookin' and forget all about the real Captain Davir Karst, and you might just find him. But not. In. Public!", he adds with a hiss at the end, before rising up from the whisper with pointed fingers as if he just said a saucy joke. "...and that's why they're called quasars."
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Velocity isn't all that thrilled about the authorities. hoping that she isn't recognized. she avoids eye contact with Lieutenant Canber.
She moves off to the side trying to pretend she is just one of the crowd.
damn, now what am I gonna do. he was my ticket to something better. she mumbles glancing at Duravor's body.
T'zor bristles slightly at the security officers, but attempts to cooperate. He is still noticeably distraught about Duravor's passing, and he remains mostly silent unless specifically questioned. Every few minutes, he sends worried glances over towards the fallen dwarf before blinking in a complex pattern that is strangely uncomfortable to watch.
After a while, the Shirren man takes a deep breath and turns to the others. "Well," he begins, "I suppose it will fall to us to find someone who may have known what he wanted to ask of us. The least I can do in his honor is to fulfill his request, and I imagine some of you may feel the same."
Soryn shrugs in response to Anton's question. "No, not my first fight. Nor my first time shooting someone." He trails off and his gaze grows unfocused, as if remembering something. It lasts only a moment before he focuses again on Anton. "Still, you handled yourself fairly well for someone who'd never done that before," he offers with a smile.
When questioned by the Lieutenant, he simply arches his eyebrow at the man. His expression suggests mild annoyance. "Might technically be a civilian, Lieutenant, but it's awfully hard to do my job with just kind words, or even mean ones. Still, I guess I'm grateful you'll let me hold onto my rifle." He continues giving his statement on the situation, occasionally holding up his arm and checking his datapad or another small computer embedded in a device on his arm. The Lashunta's demeanor suggests boredom rather than any sort of discomfort being around authority figures.
When with the others, he gives the officer a languid shrug. "I was planning on doing a job for Duravor. Damn shame what's happened to him." Soryn bows his head solemnly, though only for a few seconds. "That aside, I was planning on finding work. Hopefully that doesn't mean gang fights, but those sorts of things are hard to predict. I'd hoped for something less violent and more stable, but..." he looks over at T'zor. "I'd be surprised if the job offer he had for us still stands."
Soryn again grabs his datapad. "But before I forget to ask, Lieutenant, I don't suppose there were any outstanding bounties on any of these gangers, were there?"
"Captain Imrael? Karst?" Lieutenant Canber wonders aloud as he considers Anton's questions. "Can't say I recognize those names offhand, but if you're looking for a missing person, you can always stop by one of our stations and fill out a report."
"Well, if it's work you're looking for, you'll probably be able to find some here or on some ship heading off to whatever godsforsaken part of space it wants to go to," the Lieutenant adds. "But I can't think of--"
"Sir!" An officer interrupts Canber, hurrying up with a datapad. "Found this on the victim. Has a description of...well, of the heroes here."
Lieutenant Canber takes the datapad and skims through it. "Well, this certainly corroborates what you've mentioned regarding your relationship with mister Keel. Not that we have any concerns regarding your character, but these days it's best to be careful." Canber looks through the datapad briefly, before holding it out for someone to take. "There is a calendar item here regarding a meeting a meeting with one Chiskisk of the Starfinder Society. No notes on specific details, but if honoring your dead friend is your goal, perhaps you could see what he was planning on doing there." Lieutenant Canber has an air of indifference about him at this time, and turns to let you all make the decision amongst yourselves.
"Oh, and regarding the criminals," Lieutenant Canber remembers, turning back to Soryn, "Unfortunately, these are rather small fishes from the ocean of crime."
If no one beats him to it, Burlap takes the pad and glances at the display. "Thanks, Lieutenant. We'll try to find this Chisk-isk fella. Are you gonna need to hold Duravor's body for very long? I'd like to give him a proper send-off."
T'zor agrees with Burlap's intentions, nodding along. "It is the least we could do."
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sensing that the Lt. isn't going to arrest her, Velocity makes her way to the rest of the group.
thanks for the info, I think we should be getting on her way. hoping to usher the group off to the side trying avoid a confrontation with the Lt.
coming up beside T'zor leaning closer, they are not to keen on bounty hunter types, best not mention it any more. she whispers
to him.
Burlap glances at the datapad. "So, this Chiskisk is a Starfinder... guess we should head to the Society office to find him?"
Soryn sighs. "Shame. I didn't imagine they'd be worth much, but it doesn't hurt to ask." The officer's discomfort with the idea of bounty hunting is readily apparent to Soryn, but it doesn't particularly bother him. There were many people, law enforcement or otherwise, who weren't entirely comfortable with his trade and those who engaged in it. Still, they put out bounties and continued to rely on bounty hunters like him to clean up their messes.
All in all, nothing new.
"Perhaps. Is there not a specific meeting location in the details there?" the Lashunta asks once they are away from the authorities.
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"No, they're not really missing persons, that's alright...." Anton trails off, kicking at the dirt in the universal sign of depressed resignation.
**BeeeWoOT** the small hoverbot chirps at Davin's approach in a way that is both cute and threatening.
"Wait, does that mean you've had a lot of jobs or not that many warm meals?" Anton tries to ask but is run over by Karst's verbose verbage.
"So does that means that I'll not find him in public, but I will find him when I...you know?" Anton quips, not having any idea what he's talking about.
"But you didn't talk about quasars at all...." Anton says to the ground, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
Anton lets himself by herded along by Velocity, and nods automatically at Burlap. "Um, yeah, sure. We should...go...and find...stars," he affirms, walking along, Vivian dutifully flying behind him.
"Found this on the victim. Has a description of...well, of the heroes here."
"I think heroes' might be a little t'much. But I'll take it.", he laughs out, waving in a friendly manner as they leave. "Goodbye, ye Collectivist jackbooted tosspots.", he hisses, the wide smile still on his face. Turning towards the green man, Davir shrugs. "Well, it's not like they gave us the datapad. Plus, if I was that Pathfindin' Chiskisk charact'r, I'd be very worried if the dwarf I was goin'ta meet was, well. Five and three-quarters space-wastin' chasers and a hoverin' robot obsessed with myself." He fixes the worn blaster tucked in his belt, before shrugging. "I'd say we go'n'see that Chiskisk right now, before the best bars and canteens open."
Getting directions to the Starfinder headquarters in the Lorespire Complex is surprisingly simple. Most residents of Absalom Station are somewhat familiar with the Society at least in passing.
After arriving at the Lorespire complex, a Kasathan secretary looks up and nods, acknowledging your arrival. "Good cycle to you. How can I assist you at this time?"
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As she heads toward the Lorespire Complex, Velocity continuously is checking out various places some of them she hasn't seen in a long time, others are new.
eventually reaching her destination, she stops a moment to take in the sight. She never been in this are of the station before.
ya know, they say that some of the early starfinder's left when the Collective took over. glancing around to see if anyone is listening, she adds in a whisper, they say they are the voidwalkers
Velocity approaches the desk Hey there, I am so sorry to bring this news. but there was an... ahh... "accident" at the docks. And well, Mr Duravor was... ah... killed. she fumbles with the right way to say it. but trying to remain optimistic. On the plus side, he sent us here.
Burlap adds helpfully, "We're looking for a Mister... or Miss... or Non-Gendered individual named Chiskisk."
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*Beep boop boop BOP* Viv replies emphatically at Velocity.
"Hush, Viv," Anton shoots at her reproachfully, not actually knowing what she's trying to get across. "I'm sure the...Collective...isn't that bad. I mean, if they can keep an amazing place like this up and running, then...how bad can they be?" asks they droid rhetorically.
*Booooooooooop* Viv replies indignantly.
"Chiskisk sounds...idunno, Kasathasian to me?" Anton postulates, suddenly not knowing what words mean.
T'zor is quiet as the group speaks to the secretary. He keeps a vigil for people who may be watching their doings, hoping the uncomfortable feeling in his gut is simply loss, and not someone keeping tabs on them.
"Ah, if it isn't the lovely office of the buc'neers of fate, the corsairs of exploration, and the Trade Company of enlight'ment!", Davir grins with a knowing twinkle in his eye, seeing the Starfinder Society's opulent Lorespire Complex. The bastards have it cut out for them, plundering and exploring under the nose and protection of the Collective. And if they weren't that darn selfless, I might've even considered joining!, he laughs out, as he joins the other two towards the secretary. "Not only this, my keen eyed'n'eared friend, but also some might say the two are toited tighter than Eox and the Corpse Fleet.", he shares his own bit of rumour in Velocity's ear, before smoothening his hair. "We're all a bit shaken, 'strue.", he nods grimly at the receptionist, as if he wasn't grinning madly a moment before, before reaching for the jar of sweets.
"Though if I may my dear friend here's timeline, he obviously didn't sent us after he passed. Dead men rarely say anythin' of importance, trust me on that.", he adds with a smirk on his ashen complexion, biting the lolipop with the ravenous bite of a starving ghoul. "It's said that Chiskisk's the one t'speak to, since, eh,", Davir struggles with the alien name's pronoun for a moment, "Ol' Duravor's last meetin' was with the individual in question."
Soryn briefly considers approaching the desk, but decides that having everyone bombard the poor secretary with information might be a little much. He stays back near T'zor, looking around and taking in as much as he can.
"Seeing Duravor like that seems like it hit you hard," says the Lashunta, glancing over at T'zor. He recalls that the Shirren seemed to react the most viscerally to what had happened. "Pretty fresh, too. You doing all right?"
T'zor looks Soryn in the face, blinking slowly, arms crossed in consternation. "We are taught, even while we are with our parents, that every meeting is a blessing. Duravor respected me and my dreams, even as a foolish youngling," the Shirren man says, sorrow clear in his eyes. "Even if he was just humoring me, none were so willing to encourage me to reach my goals. Even my family wished to keep me safe on the Zkorynt, but he understood how much I wish to travel the stars on my own power, to go where I have not been before," T'zor states, uncrossing his arms and placing a hand over his chestpiece, as determination replaces the sadness in his eyes. "Meeting Duravor was surely Hylax's way of leading me to my destiny. I shall not disappoint her, and I will honor his memory. So, no, I am not alright... but I will be."
The Kasathan directs everyone to a small waiting room. After a short while, the Kasathan returns and directs you to a cluttered, but clean office deep in the complex. Upon entering their office, a host Shirren stands and greets you. Gesturing for you to all sit in seats around the office, they begin speaking to you telepathically. "I am sorry that I cannot welcome you to Absalom Station under better circumstances. I assure you that such attacks are not a daily occurance, though I realize that is likely small comfort to you. I am pleased that none of you are seriously hurt, but I grieve for Duravor's death. He was...he was a good friend, despite our disagreements." The shirren bows their head momentarily, then looks up, their compound eyes glistening.
"What puzzles me is the reason behind the attack." Chiskisk taps a few commands into their computer. "According to the incident report that was released by station security, two gangs were involved in the attack: the Downside Kings and the Level 21 Crew. While gang wars are not uncommon, they normally confine their battles to lawless sectors, like the Puddles. Rarely do they battle openly in public areas like the docks. I cannot help but wonder if there was a reason those two docks were at Docking Bay 94 at the time-at the time of your arrival. Was it a coincidence? Were you and Duravor all innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire? Or was there something else at play here?"
Chiskisk pauses for a moment as he stares off into space, lost in thought for the moment.
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"Occam's Razor would say it say it was a coincidence," Anton mumbles from the corner, standing as the place quickly ran out of chairs.
"The odds of two diametrically opposed political forces coming together to play an elaborate kabuki dance to assassinate a middling merchant and a bunch of strangers are...not large," he stumbles along, thinking of the whole thing as some kind of whirling Gauss-powered centrifuge.
--[Beep Whrlllllloop]-- Vivian observes, hovering thoughtfully, explaining the entire thing...to anyone who spoke Binary.
The war-rat considers the matter. He concludes with faux innocence, "Maybe we should go ask them, you know, politely. I hear confession is good for the soul. I bet those crews want to unburden themselves."
"If it wasn't just bad luck, that'd be a pretty complicated little conspiracy," Soryn muses. "Questioning some folks might be in order, though it'd be better if we had someone more specific than an entire gang."
T'zor grimaces, but doesn't disagree. "Though I lost my cool earlier, I do agree that it would be right to question them. At the very least, if it turns out Duravor was killed as part of a plot, I will have all the reason to find those responsible and bring them to justice."
Scratching his teeth with the lollipop's stem, Davir shrugs. "Eh, the lad with the large robot and larg'r vocabulary's got some points.", he laughs out. "Though, I'm thinkin' that gangers aren't like us honest taxpayin' gentlepeople, ruled by logic 'n 'profit 'n higher causes o' th' sort.", he laughs out, gesticulating wildly.
"Y'see, gangs and criminal org'nisation are like...", he scratches his stubble, for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Like binary stars. Conflict and keepin' the rest in check's their entire existance an' recruitment an' all. So if, say, one does somethin' for themselves, like get paid t'take out a much reviled unionist fer miner's rights..." He waves his hand. "The barycentre of the gangers becomes our little Dock 94, and our heroic selves just get swallowed in the gravity pool." He sticks the bitten stem of the lollipop behind his ear, and scratches the other.
Pointing two fingers towards both Burlap and the serious-looking lashunta, he grins. "Ah, gentlemen! Why compromise when y'can have both!", he raises his hands, pointing towards the ysoki. "Ask the members politely, until", he gestures towards Soryn, "they give ye someone specific. Everyone wins!"
Turning towards Chiskisk, he raises an eyebrow, and the first honest-sounding words for the day come out from his mouth. "To be fair, I came here to do a job with m'old acquaintance Duravor. An' some bastird went and shot him. So if ye're coverin' expenses..." A cutlass appears in his hand, as Davir Karst raises it to the air. "Ye just need t'point me in the right direction. I'm not a gamblin' man.", he grins, "But I think we can find the Level 21 Crew somewhere around Level 21 of the station?"