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Congratulations, graduates! You've passed your Confirmation and are now full members of the esteemed Starfinder Society--well, the formerly esteemed Starfinder Society. Since the Scoured Stars incident cost the organization most of its agents and almost all of its endowment, it's lost a lot of its glamour and influence in the Pact Worlds. This year, the ceremony's more of a hollow formality than ever. Years of training were condensed into months, and study abroad in the Veskarium was canceled due to budget cuts. You even had to bring your own graduation attire! Some Starfinder trainees got deployed to live missions before they matriculated--no surprise given how few agents remain.
The ceremony was brief, featuring only one speaker--Venture-Captain Arvin, of all the people they could have gotten. Afterward, you were instructed to wait on a bench in a hallway in the Lorespire Complex. Guidance, the artificially-intelligent Starfinder Society mainframe, should call you in soon.
The hallway is clean, but it's not aging well. The cushions on the bench are flat, and there's a dent in the alloy wall next to an unmarked door a few dozen feet to your right. Across from you is an old-fashioned inkprint portrait of First Seeker Jadnura here, a kasatha who led the expedition into the Scoured Stars. It probably should have been replaced with a portrait of Luwazi Elsebo, the new First Seeker, by now. A rumor you heard from your classmates claims that something's holding up the transition, and it's not the maintenance budget for once.
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Dr. Apati, a large, heavily armored Izalguun, just got back from one heck of a mission. But he never really became a 'Starfinder' and thought that taking the beginners course would be a swell idea. He might even get some more... willing patients.
He walks down to sit on the bench... but then thinks it over and stands. He will wait for any of the new blood to come in before saying, "Ohhh why hello there! Name is Dr. Apati, at your service. Now, before I say anything else that my lawyers warned me about, will you sign off on my consent form here?"
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"Ohhh why hello there! Name is Dr. Apati, at your service. Now, before I say anything else that my lawyers warned me about, will you sign off on my consent form here?"
"What? What?" pipes up a finely-dressed, purple-hued morlamaw as he waddles over towards the doctor. "Let me see that."
Retrieving a monocle with the use of a webbed appendage, the creature then scans the form closely, being careful not to skewer the form with one of his four, intricately carved tusks. "Well, I must say, it all appears to be in order."
With a meaty, flipper-like hand he signs his consent. "Sir Feighnswelle of Arniselle." he dictates aloud, before turning to the izalguun agent. "A doctor, eh? Your parents must be very proud."
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A strange colorful coral-like humanoid with long twisting horns approaches the rest of the party with their arms held out, palms forward and slowly spin in a circle. Without waiting for a response, they say "Hello! I'm Brivarius! You may have seen me on several recent vidshows as a political commentator focusing on the environmental and social issues of Tabrid Minor."
They walk over to take a look at Dr. Apati's contract. "My lawyers will probably be upset if I sign yet another contract they didn't get to review. But sure, why not." they say as they quickly review the contract and sign. "Sounds legit."
A giant purple and blue humanoid walrus lumbers in. "Right-o. What did I miss? Winston T. Walrus, combat accountant and morlamaw vanguard, at your service, chaps."
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"Jolly good to make your acquaintance, Mister Walrus. Seeing another morlamaw among the ranks of the Society, and such a fine-looking specimen of one at that, makes my heart swell with pride." notes Sir Feighnswelle.
Upon seing his copaxi colleague, the large, aquatic Starfinder begins circling around in a slow, spinning gestures, before giving them a greeting in their native language.
"Good day." he says to the human. "The doctor's forms were quite informative and I am familiar with the capabilities of my fellow morlamaw as well as the copaxi, but you are a human, are you not? Just what is it, may I ask, that humans have to offer the Society?"
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After a few minutes that seem like hours (if not a couple of days), the doors open and a gaggle of Starfinders emerge, chattering excitedly. A calm voice comes over the speakerphone, "Guidance will see you now."
As the doors slide open, a green holographic image of a middle-aged human woman shimmers into view at the center of the room. “Greetings,” it says. “Thank you for your patience. I am Guidance. (see slide 2 for Guidance, as well as information on the subdermal implant.) Please use the cheek swabs in the open receptacle to provide a genetic sample for Starfinder Society identification purposes. 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.”
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As you put your hand (etc.) inside the panel, you feel a quick jab of pain. An autoscalpel puts a centimeter-long cut in the appropriate place, a tiny bit of silicon goes in the incision, and what seems like a centipede's worth of tiny robotic arms stitch the wound shut and then precisely apply a thin layer of sprayflesh.
Guidance speaks up. “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.”
"I have beamed a summary of the factions to your comm units. Please take the opportunity to exercise the Starfinder virtue of Cooperation in determining which faction you would like to approach first."
Your comm units light up as they receive new information. (See: Slides 3 and 4!)
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CULTURE to know about Absalom Station.
You know all of the information with a DC less than or equal to the result of your check.
GATHER INFORMATION (DIPLOMACY) to learn even more about Absalom Station.
You learn all of the information with a DC less than or equal to the result of your check.
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A large Vesk Soldier with a Tactical Pike stumbles through the door into the ceremony room as the team gets their implants. "Sorry I'm late. They really need to make the stalls in the lavatory a little larger." He goes over to place his hand on the glowing panel. Afterwards he introduces himself, "Hello all. Good to meet you. I am Kargarama or just Karg for short. Usually I work the front line."
"As for who to go see first, why not just take the first on the list and then see each of them in order. I would like to meet with the Acquisitives, myself."
"Absalom Station? Oh right. Heard there is a junkrace coming up soon. Someone was trash-talking to the current Champion, Ratrod. Evidently that ticked him off. Also heard there is a limited edition physical copy of Strawberry Machine Cake being released soon. I think that's all I know about the happenings."
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"You pups may think me long in the tusk, but I came to learn quite a bit about this Station reading through ships' logs and cargo manifests when I first came here from beautiful, wet Arniselle. Discerbed much about the locals attitude towards the Starfinder Society as well as the Armada that surrounds the Station." pipes in Sir Feighnswelle. "Could be tell you a good lot, should you ask. Not to mention, all that I was able to gather while barking around the local flops, from junk races to unfettered predators to fruitful automated pastries, or some such. What would you like to know?"
The morlamaw answers his fellow agents questions as best he can.
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Guidance's holographic form says, "Thank you all. I apologize, but you must vacate the room. We have another ceremony to perform in five minutes. I recommend determining your next destination quickly. Because you must visit every faction leader, perhaps one of you should take on the mantle of leadership and lead the way?"
Behind you, the doors slide open and Guidance's voice guides you gently back into the hallway. On the benches you so recently left, a ryphorian and three human Starfinders sit, while a dragonkin sprawls awkwardly in the too-small hall and a barathu floats above.
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Zigvigix resides in the poor but trendy neighborhood of Downlow in the Spike. (See slide 5!)
Garbage litters the ground around the district’s largest art park—a cement lot filled with undulating metal sculptures and covered in graffiti of grotesquely adorable creatures. The sounds of music and chatter drift over from the nearby clubs, chronically interrupted by the roar of the local gangsters’ engines.
A heavily augmented host shirren is sitting on one of the park benches, eating a simple meal of cold grub-noodles and rice candy. Where you can see exoskeleton, it's cracked and held together with fastbond. This shirren has clearly seen some danger and come out worse for it.
Their antennae perk up at the tremor of approaching footsteps.
“Welcome, new Starfinders! And congratulations!” the shirren’s voice telepathically projects. “My speech-name is Zigvigix, but feel free to call me Ziggy, if that would be easier for you. Have some rice candy to celebrate your graduation! Today is your big day!
“When you are ready, I have two assignments I could use assistance with. The first is to help me secure a new headquarters on Absalom Station. I’ve been in talks with our station’s protectors, the Stewards, and they were kind enough to give us ownership of a warehouse here in Downlow for that purpose! The current owners no longer want it because a vicious alien took it over and kills anyone who goes inside. Once the alien is gone and the warehouse cargo has been returned to its owners, we can start installing desks and computers, so please go in and incinerate the creature!
“My second assignment...” Zigvigix twitches their tooth barbs for a moment and then holds out a credstick. “Please buy the brand-new Strawberry Machine Cake album, Star Sugar Heartlove!!!, which is out today, and give it to Historia-7 when you see her. She is the head of the Dataphiles, so you should meet her today! I wish to do it myself, but I... I have trouble standing for long periods of time. Thank you very much!”
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Kargarama grips his Tactical Pike and nervously starts looking around. A loud rumbling can be heard coming from his mid-section and he breaks out in a sweat. "Uh, something did not settle right with me from that last planet I just arrived. I think I may have caught something. I don't think I'll be able to continue with all of you. Sorry guys but...."
Karg holding one hand to his behind, runs off in the direction of the nearest lavatory being heard saying, , toilet paper, toilet paper!"
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After looking over Ziggy, he gave a friendly nod as he said, "Well it has been nice to meet you, and thank you for the assignments. But, would you like to sign off on this consent form for a check up? And do we know anything about that creature?"
Dr. Apati wanted to know about the new specimen creature to make sure it was safe for his patients. Can't have them getting hurt by something to only have to come back for more treatments!
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“I wish to do it myself, but I... I have trouble standing for long periods of time. Thank you very much!”
"Well, if you have trouble standing, My Good Man, then just lie down for a good belly flop, I say. Works for this old pinniped!" suggests Sir Feighnswelle, before realizing that he may have breached some decorum. "Yes, well. We'd be happy to help you, Ziggy, you prefer? Just give us an address and we will go take care of the creature so that you can build your headquarters. In other words, My Good Man, we'll put the creature's lights out, so that you can turn your lights on!"
"Oh, and we'll secure one of those noise-makers you mentioned, too." he adds.
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Ziggy looks at the very tall vesk. "What an interesting fellow! I believe his own Commencement ceremony was actually scheduled for next week. I hope he remembers to attend!"
The shirren continues, Oh! and Gabrog! I've heard such wonderful things about you! Thank you for looking out for us. We actually have a bit of surveillance of the creature--it's quite pretty but also dangerous! I believe a crime lord imported one as a pet and was promptly eaten. Here, I'll send the video (slide 6) to your comm units! I don't recommend eating while you watch it, though."
Your comm units do, in fact, ding with the sound of a file being sent. You can use Life Science to learn more about the feather stalker based on the video!
You may ask one question for reaching this DC, and one additional question for every 5 by which you beat the DC. I'm flexible on what questions you ask, but if you're looking for inspiration, I recommend checking out the play by post community's knowledge list!
Ziggy looks at Dr. Apati. "Oh, thank you so much for the offer! I'm doing just fine though, really! Besides, there's still a chance that this new exoskeleton epoxy will hold up! Save your treatments for those who truly need them. Your file says that you're quite the talented medic, among other things, and I wouldn't want to waste so much of your attention!"
To Sir Feighnswelle, Zigvigix thinks, "A belly flop does sound fun! Maybe soon I can belly flop all I want again without risking breakage! Belly flop an extra time for me, please! And yes, it's been hard to operate without a base. Sangoro's Bulwark was really important for the Exo-Guardians and the Starfinder Society! Someday maybe you young agents will be able to find it and reclaim it for us! But yes, for now, it would be good to get the warehouse."
"Oh yes and please do not forget the album! It's only a favor to me, really, but Historia 7 has been so depressed since her mentor Historia 6 was lost to the Scoured Stars. I always find sugar pop cheers me up so I'm hoping it will cheer her up as well! I can't really stand in line for the new releases anymore so I don't get to listen to them, but I listen to 'Can't Stop Now' a lot when I'm feeling down or hurting too bad, and 'Fruit Basket Superpower' makes me want to jump around and dance! I hear their last couple of albums are even better!"
They will keep talking to Sir Feighnswelle and all of you about their favorite songs for several minutes. You learn a lot about Strawberry Machine Cake, or SMC as it's known!
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Ziggy themself hears a ping from a comm unit, and they think at all of you, "Oh! Speaking of! Historia-7 just reminded me since I'm talking to all of you that if you have already got recruited by a faction, you should check in with them and let them know that we're sending you on missions! You're basically full Starfinders now! Oh, and here, I'll send you directions to the warehouse and the store. I'm sure today has been really busy, so if you need to go buy some equipment for the warehouse you should do that now! Be prepared before you get in a fight!"
Your comm units light up once more, with a pair of spherelinks that show you paths through the Station to each of your two destinations.
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A well-dressed quadrupedal, silicon-based creature with three claw-like arms and three eyestalks, about four and a half feet tall and vaguely snail like in appearance with a crystalline lithic shell. You might recognize this creature as a quorlu.
The creature begins to speak."Greetings and salutations, everyone. My name is Vreelin, and I am truly sorry I'm late."
Vreelin bows to the group and then continues.
"Somehow I wound up in the graduating class after yours by mistake, but Guidance gave me directions to your whereabouts, and, well, here I am. I grew up on Absalom Station, so I know my way around a little bit. I'm ready to help out this..."
Vreelin looks around at the group, noting two morlamaws, an izalguun, a seemingly coral-like race he's never seen before, and a human.
"...this wonderful display of diversity. We are truly all stronger when we work together, aren't we? A pleasure to meet all of you, truly. And, where are we going?"
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Dr. Apati takes a long look at the video, making sure to adjust his glasses as needed....
But he doesn't seem to recognize the creature at all, "Ohh, well darn... Seems like I have never seen one of these before my patients.... I mean my comrades."
He is a little suspicious of what else Ziggy was asking him to do... But he isn't very good at reading people, probably why he was doing this instead of in a good hospital somewhere.
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Ziggy bids you farewell. "It's so good to meet you! I'm really looking forward to seeing what you can do for the Society. Be careful out there!"
"Oh, and Vreelin--thank you for coming! I've already given your compatriots here your missions, so please check with them to get up to speed. Congratulations on matriculating, Starfinder!"
Once you feel you're prepared, you can approach the warehouse. Station security has the warehouse cordoned off, and a bored-looking sergeant lets you under the tape. They deactivate a force shield just long enough for you to get inside.
The doors to the warehouse were forced open and no longer lock. The warehouse ceiling looks to be about 30 feet high, and a catwalk runs about half that height above the floor.
The crates and vehicle are approximately 5 feet tall, while the cylindrical containers and the crate-filled scaffolding are 10 feet tall, and there's a pit in the floor that's maybe 10 feet deep.
The scattered junk on the floor creates an area of difficult terrain. The lights on the catwalk are not bright enough to fully illuminate the area, leaving the warehouse in dim light.
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Dim white and blue light creates unusual--and creepy--shadows that dramatically flicker back and forth as you move about.
Brivarius looks back and forth. Here and there they see chewed cabling--even stuff inside metal conduit--and a dark stain on the floor points to the spot where the body must have lain before AbSec retrieved it and closed off the warehouse.
Feighnswelle barrels toward a barrel and examines it. The metal lid reads "SCRAP" in hastily-scrawled spraypaint. Prying the lid off with a tusk, the morlamaw sees a bunch of worthless junk inside.
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Vreelin's melodic quorlu voice sounds out from the door to the warehouse.
"Good job starting to search everyone! This featherstalker creature will show up in no time. I'll go check over behind some of those crates by that big hole. Keep up the good work!"
Vreelin slowly but steadly moves across the warehouse floor, checking behind crates while cautiously approaching the edge of the hole in the warehouse.
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The morlamaw (one of two in the party!) identifies a heavy barrel labeled, "Recycling." He pries it open and sees a stack of what appear to be enercycle batteries inside, their contacts corroded. It doesn't look particularly promising. The lid rattles loudly on the floor, reflecting light from a flashlight upward in a flickering pattern for a moment. A moment is just long enough to notice some discolored spots on the ceiling!
The horned solarion Brivarius ducks behind a blue crate and accidentally shuts off their wide-spectrum illumination. It's bloody hard to read white text on a blue barrel when it's only illuminated by blue light.