Dot in and delete here.
Game play will begin approximately May 6th.
A FOGGY MIST is quite common on Legacy Station, especially near the spacedocks and airlocks out on the fringes of the station. No one has ever figured out how to vent the warm, moist air out of the station, and when it meets the cooling conduits that are visible almost anywhere on Legacy Station, a perpetual gloomy miasma courses through the corridors.
Legacy station is a waystation. An industrual transfer point and a central hub for travelers making their way across the galaxy. Though dark and hazy, Legacy Station is perpetually busy, and that includes this evening. Six travelers await their turn to board The Chimera, a passenger and cargo freighter with a good reputation for getting places on time.
The Chimera was indeed on time earlier today, and sits moored to the station. Holo-signs nearby indicate boarding for passengers will begin in an hour, and departure is one hour past that. Any large cargo must have been loaded right after arrival, as the immense freighter now sits quietly.
A flickering old electric sign shines through the mist. It reads "Mel's Last Chance Diner." Underneath this another sign indicates that a wide variety of beverages are available, and Absalom-style Daygu Wraps are the house specialty.
A hover drone flits over to a lone figure and takes an order for some food and a tall brewed beverage of some sort. The human seems tired, and ready to rest after conducting business out in these parts of near space.
Your host (most likely Mel himself) advises several other travelers that he is happy to serve them while they wait to board the nearby Chimera. First, a hulking Trox ducks his head to come through the door, and looks around nervously. Taking a deep whiff of the aroma coming from the kitchen, he lets his guard down and sits down near the human and looks over a menu.
Two much smaller figures enter together. These two seem at least marginally acquainted. One, an Ysoki sporting a multi-colored dye job to much of her fur, seems to convey a rebelliousness that most people outwardly disapprove of, yet inwardly wish they could possess.
The other, a halfling woman, seems much more proper, and in fact wears very stylish, and perhaps expensive clothing that is freshly pressed and cleaned. The halfling woman quietly mentions something about their mutual contact in the Pact Worlds, and the security work they may be doing together in the near future. They find another table near the human and the Trox, who now munches on an immense platter of fried Castrovelian sea mollusks.
As if blowing in the from the wind, another imposing figure enters the establishment. A Nuar wearing an older, out of style, yet impeccably tailored overcoat and formal business attire is ushered to another nearby table close to the other travelers.
Finally, a Shirren enters the diner. He clutches a sturdy case that seems to be quite precious to him. He is seated in the very same corner of the restaurant.
Mel comes over and addresses you all. "Now, I know Captain Corsen of The Chimera quite well, and I know he's going to get you to your destination most efficiently and safely. Meanwhile, I am happy to be your host while you wait to board. Please let my automated help know what you need, or wave me over. I am happy to pack up some meals for you to take on your journey as well, though I am sure Captain Corsen's kitchen is up to the task of feeding all of you."
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The Nuar comes in taking a long pull off of his cigarette. After which he notices the no smoking sign and sighs, putting the offending stick out in the ashtray nearby the door. As he walks by, You hear an odd bit of music coming from seemingly nowhere. He waves off the person trying to usher him to the table and instead takes a seat at the bar.
"Gin and Tonic" he drawls to one of the automated bartenders. His voice sounds world-weary, like a man who has seen too much but is forced to continue on. After a minute of thinking he adds. "I'll try the house special if it comes with steak fries."
A scrumptious looking plate soon arrives. The automated serving drone sets it down, absolutely piping hot.
"Fries? You. . . .wanted fries with that?"
The shirren nods to the others and Mel after he assures them of the Chimera's reliability. A series of clicks and vibrations emanate from the Shirren's chitinous plates. A melodious voice chimes in your heads, the telepathic speech of the alien intruding into your brains. You are taking passage on the Chimera as well? It will be nice to be home for a bit. My name is T'sorkel, and these are my boys, T'regen and Darluk. He places the case on the table, and opens the front to reveal two Shirren larvae each in their own incubation chambers filled with a bluish liquid.
He turns to the Naur. Is that good? I may get some food for the trip. I have no doubt the Captain's galley is respectable, but this is a purpose-built place, yes?
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The human, a broad-faced young man, maybe in his late twenties, has a thick shock of ursine black hair above nascent widow's peaks. His brows slope into small vertical furrows above his slightly flattened nose. Something about his features gives rise to the impression that the nose was longer and sharper once, and, maybe, was rebuilt after contact with an accidental fist. His eyes are a nondescript brown, and he has a square chin. Maybe the chin had been the target of the same accidental fist. It looked like it deserved to be.
The man is dressed in tight white shirt and grey slacks with a tight-waisted long grey suit coat, trimmed with thin gold braid along the lapels and collar. Standard corporate style, even if the gold key badge on his left breast didn't broadcast Abadarcorp.
His shoes are black and shiny with small gold buckles. They could be real leather. If they are, and aren't some synth knock-off, they probably cost a couple days pay.
A thin, black cane rests against his left thigh, an affectation no doubt. He looks too young and healthy to need help walking. At his feet, helping to ensure the cane doesn't merely slide to the ground, is a surprisingly proletarian looking fabric backpack.
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The man looks up in response to T'sorkel's greeting. His eyes do a quick scan around the diner before fastening on the shirren. He straightens up, his previous weary slump disappears.
"Yes, the Chimera be my ship. I be returning to my home station too. I be John Rawlings, a minor functionary of Abadarcorp. You also be returning from business, or be this trip pleasure?"
He pushes away the remains of his meal -- some kind of fibrous looking brown stew. Puts his elbows on the table and parks his chin on his clasped hands.
The motion causes the tails of his jacket, which he had folded into his lap, to fall away, revealing a glimpse of a small electric pistol, little more than a toy really, strapped onto his right thigh.
The halfling frowns slightly at the telepathic intrusion, continuing the conversation with her ysoki companion in a low voice, "...it's not as challenging as it seems, really. Most sentients look the same once you cut them open - bones, muscles, blood of some color. The trick is knowing which organs are important and which can be discarded."
Hearing the slight hum of the automated waitstaff approach the table, she intones, "House special; half portion. Akitonian single malt; double portion. Hold the fries."
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As T’sorkel establishes telepathic contact with the Nuar, he hears not a clear reply, but instead a running monologue in his head, which is weird, as the Nuar presumably had to be broadcasting it to him that way. I stopped at a greasy spoon during my layover. The food tasted fine, though whoever started this trend of wrapping food up in a tortilla instead of putting it between two good old fashioned pieces of bread, or maybe a burger bun, needed to be shot. At least they didn’t mess up the fries. It’s hard to mess up fries.
The hover drone returns to the table, and the halfling woman delicately lifts a glass of dark liquor from the proffered tray without looking. Sipping it thoughtfully, she verbally probes the ysoki. "The last time I saw you, I was patching holes in your pelt just outside of Gideron space. Glad to see my handiwork is still in one piece, albeit a touch more... ostentatious."
Pausing for another sip, she continues quietly, "Have you heard any more details about this mysterious 'contract'? I simply received a message with a date, location, list of team members, and a sum I couldn't refuse. Your name was the only one I recognized."
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Looking a bit like a punk rocker, Yariel Flash sports a vibrant purple half head of hair draped to one side. The other side is shaved bare and tattooed with an intricate set of what appears to be circuitry. Silvers and golds intercross in apparent random patterns. The semi-professional looking mercenary clothing fits the punk rock appearance and might indicate some group affiliation. Her long nose and whiskers tend to stay glued to her tablet, glancing up periodically to scope out anything of interest. She walks with a swagger, a bit like she owns her personal space plus about four feet in all directions.
But this usual appearance you might have seen as she walked around the station isn't present in the diner. Slipping inside with the good doctor, her tablet disappears into a hidden pocket and she eyes the menu board with a bit of squint, "A diner like this seems like a treat after..." She queues up an order for a burger, fries and large chocolate milkshake, or at least as close as she can find to that.
Nose twitching in a bit of a sneer directed towards the corporate stooge, she gives a shrug to the doctor and replies, "Ya knew me back when I didn't know myself. Coupla hard lessons an I realized I don't give a frack about what others think." She glares at most of the males in the diner as if challenging them to question her views.
Glancing at T'sorkel she drops her glare and replies to his thoughts with a nod, "Cute Kids."
The food arrives and she just shrugs about the mission question while taking a big bite of her burger.
T'sorkel nods to Yariel's complement. It seemed the fries were the most popular item. He motions for the robot to approach and orders a Daygu Wrap, fries, and a strawberry milkshake, then another wrap and fries for the trip.
The shirren watches the others for a moment, taking in their various concerns and conversation. He turns back to John, but seems to be looking over his head and then to shifts to look just to his left. Oh, business I suppose, though really it's hard to separate the two. I am a student and I've been doing research. It's been quite amazing really. And having my boys along has been such fun to show them what different worlds are like. What about you, sir? Has this been a business trip for AbadarCorp?
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...
The shirren watches the others for a moment, taking in their various concerns and conversation. He turns back to John, but seems to be looking over his head and then to shifts to look just to his left. Oh, business I suppose, though really it's hard to separate the two. I am a student and I've been doing research. It's been quite amazing really. And having my boys along has been such fun to show them what different worlds are like. What about you, sir? Has this been a business trip for AbadarCorp?
"Yes, the trip be business, or it was. My superior was concluding mining rights contracts on several near space worlds. She stayed to enjoy the waters of Shiuan. I must needs return to the office to file the reports."
He gestures open palm up at the larvae's case. "You be both student and teacher, then? My compliments to you. If I be not rude, how old be T'regen and Darluk? And how much do they retain? I recall little of my earliest years."
Just as you are finishing and paying for your meals, several sets of lights pop on over at the Chimera's boarding ramps. The windows at Mel's provide an excellent vantage point as a few passengers begin approaching the ship.
After you pay Mel and collect your doggy bags, the rest of you gather your baggage and walk across the docking bay to board.
A ryphorian woman monitors those passing through the
airlock into the Chimera from Legacy Station. Her armored
suit has a tag that reads “Security Chief Algiada Iom.”
Datapad in hand, she gruffly scans boarding passes and
directs passengers to their quarters.
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You also notice a scholarly human male boarding , a hobgoblin accompanied by four space goblins , and a hulking vesk
Doc picks at the remnants of her meal, observing with idle curiosity as the other passengers begin to board. Finally, after paying for her meal, the halfling grabs a small rolling suitcase and exits the diner.
As she approaches the boarding ramp, the ever-present fog curls around Doc's legs, softening the edges of her impeccably white overcoat slashed with panels of orange and black (long enough to suggest a medical professional, stylish enough to imply a lucrative private practice). She meets the ryphorian woman at the airlock, causally displaying her boarding pass. "Evening."
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The Nuar finishes up the last bit of fries and then slots a credchip into the reader for paymen.
"Thanksh kid, it was . .. well, it wash shomething. Nexsht time put it between two burger buns and you'd have a meal."
He grabs his bag and walks out of the bar and towards the docking port, gruffly showing his travel papers to the Ryphorian. After she waves him on board, she turns around and asks where that strange music is coming from.
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"See you on board, T'sorkel." Having settled his check long ago, the human picks up his bulging pack, lifts, twists, and settles it unto his shoulders. He grips his cane and marches off for the Chimera, swinging the cane so it touches down once for every two steps he takes.
A few steps short of Cheif Iom, he stops and retreives his boarding documents before stepping up to the ryphorian. "I grew up in Preita. May I ask where you be from?"
Once cleared to board, he hurries to his room. He dumps his pack, then quickly returns to watch the other passengers board.
Iom gives Rawlins a glare. "Huh? Oh--family moved around a lot. Haven't been back in a long time. You're in cabin four. Enjoy the trip, and please watch the safety video."
Tsorkel waves to Rawlins as he gets up to board the ship. The shirren asks Mel for a takeaway container for his food and then secures T'regen and Darluk's case, sliding the protective cover over their vials. Just until we get settled onboard. You remember traveling on a ship, right? Lots of people around, please keep your mind-speech low. We'll be back home soon!
The shirren clips the case to his vest and then grabs the food. He hurries over to a stack of baggage, hefting straps onto shoulders and grabbing a wheeled cart of bags. He pushes this to the boarding ramp and greets the Security Chief. He fumbles with the bags and he pulls up his boarding pass. Hello...Chief Iom is it? Pleasure to meet you! How long will the trip take? A small series of clicks escapes his thorax plates.
As he boards the ship, T'sorkel suddenly stops in the entryway, staring into empty air. His eyes dart around and his antennae flick back and forth. He stays there, holding up the line for several seconds, before he begins moving again. Oh... is all you hear in your mind.
The trox sits squeezed around the diner's small table; broad back hunched, thick hind legs bent awkwardly as he straddles the furniture, his heavy tail draped along the floor. Even so, he sits a good head above all but the tallest of customers as they walk by or stand at the bar. Clad in an outfit of tent-like navy pants, white shirt and a black jacket, the trox carries little in the way of luggage beyond the backpack resting at his feet and a massive hammer leaning against a thigh.
Huge meaty fists clasp cutlery much too small as he eagerly scoops up the Castrovelian cuisine. Every so often, he pauses in his crunching to sigh and shake his massive mandibled head.
Intent upon his meal, the trox is startled from his thoughts by the unexpected voice in his mind. Turning in his seat, he surveys the others gathered in the diner, amazed at the diversity of dress and form. His golden eyes eventually locate the shirren. No stranger to the shirrens and their preference for telepathic communication, he patiently waits as the others each reply before doing so in turn. "Yeah, I've booked passage on the Chimera, as well," his voice rumbles. My name's Rar'gul. I suppose I've been travelling for business of sorts. Well, I'm done now... it's past time to go home." He sounds a little bitter at the last.
Appetite lost, the trox gestures to one of the passing drones and stands, nearly toppling the diner table in the process. As the remnants of his meal are packaged for departure, he peruses the offerings of a nearby vending machine, before procuring a packet of BBQ Burger-O's for the voyage. Goodies tucked safely under an arm, he makes his way to the docking port.
Reaching the airlock, he presents his boarding pass to the security chief with a nod and board the Chimera.
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The ysoki devours her meal like a solar whisp attached to a merchant ship. Once done she puts her dishes away in the receptacle and flops back into her seat, comp out. Scrolling through her que'd downloads she cancels any that won't finish in time to prioritize the rest. About ready to pop some earbuds in when the boarding begins.
Giving a nod to the doctor, Yariel slips off the seat, grabs her pack and heads right to the ship, "See ya later."
Ugh, didn't expect to see anyone I knew for a long time. I'm still just as awkward as always. Why is it so easy for everyone else to be social?
Inner monologue carrying her out the door and up the ramp, he nose twitches a few times as she waits for her ticket to be accepted. Why couldn't this just be automated? Bet this security chief just likes to dip her hand in every pot cause she bored.
Ire rising a bit at the process and inconvenience she snatches the stub back and snorts a semi-sarcastic, "Thaaanks" before heading inside to get settled.
You find that the interior of The Chimera is clean and well-lit, in stark contrast to the docking bay of the space station. Ceilings in the Chimera are 14 feet high. Lighting is automatic, coming on when someone enters an area. The lights can be dimmed or turned off with
manual controls in each room or via voice command. Most areas have dim lighting even when the main lights are off, although sleeping chambers
are dark when the lights are out.
The Chimera has eight rooms for passengers. The rooms are nice, each with a bed, a desk with a chair, a padded chair and small table, a dresser, and a personal lavatory. These accommodations are elegantly decorated in kasathan style. Although each cabin is designed for one, it can accommodate more provided those persons are willing to
be in close quarters.
The six of you are assigned your own room, though you may opt to bunk together if you would like.
Nearby your state rooms is the dining and event hall. This hall typically contains tables where passengers and crew eat their meals. The room can be rearranged for events, such as dances.
You will also find the galley and the gym nearby: A large space aboard the ship has been designated as a gym. Passengers and the crew have access. It contains workout equipment, small pools with retractable covers that can be used for current swimming or as hot tubs, and an open padded area for floor work or sparring.
The Chimera is arranged in three decks.
You will all spend most of your time on the middle deck. Two large cargo bays take up the bow of the ship. Aft of that are the gym, galley, and dining hall. Past the dining hall you will find a long hallway with doors to each stateroom. At the extreme aft of the ship are 12 escape pods.
The safety video mentioned above talks about general ship rules, meal times, infosphere, ship amenities, etc. It also provides an overview of the escape pods, in the unlikely event they become necessary.
The upper deck has the bridge and crew quarters.
The lower deck is mainly engineering spaces.
[ooc]I'll try to post additional maps soon, at least of the middle deck.
As you settle into your accommodations, the Chimera disembarks.
The PCs feel the usual minor jolt of thrusters firing as the vessel leaves the station’s orbit. A few minutes later the hum of the ship’s Drift engine can be heard as it breaks through the planar
barrier, and the captain’s voice comes over the ship’s comm.
“Welcome aboard the Chimera. This is your captain, Rameem
Vi Siala Corsen speaking, and it’ll be my pleasure to ferry you
through the Drift. We’ve just finished making our astrogation
calculations here on the bridge, and it looks like it’ll take us
the next five days to reach our destination at Absalom Station, center of the Pact Worlds system. In the meantime, make yourselves at home. If you need any assistance, don’t hesitate to ask any
of our friendly crew members. Meals are served at the times
listed in the dining hall, but if you’re looking for a snack, I’m
sure our cook, Song, will be happy to accommodate you.”
The captain chuckles as he signs off.
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The Nuar grunts that the accommodations are ‘surprisingly acceptable’ and seems to cheer up slightly at the tall ceilings and beds large enough to fit his massive frame. Over the nexts he’s seen occasionally in the galley, eating hearty but simple fare and reading a book from his datapad, or sometimes in the gym, working on the punching bag. It’s clear he’s a bruiser type-not skilled in combat but putting as much of his strength behind his punches as he can. It also becomes obvious that his trench coat/clothes are VERY heavily armored (equivalent protection to heavy armor.)
-CREW AND PASSENGERS-
-OTHER PASSENGERS=
Jincheroga is a hobgoblin mercenary accompanied by 4 space goblins. She generally prefers to be left alone. She and her space goblins can often be found in the gym.
Trostinek is a burly vesk. He seems good-natured enough, though you rarely see him.
Professor Brodynt Benjam is an older human academic who seems as though he might be friendly and talkative. He has round glasses and some augmentations on his head, including a datajack. He can often be found reading in the dining hall.
-CREW-
Song is an agender android cook. You guessed it, usually in the galley.
Grath Metek is an ysoki male, and the ship's pilot. He wears a stained flight suit and generally has a disheveled appearance. He seems outgoing, and also obnoxious.
Algiada Iom, Security Chief. Iom is a ryphorian woman. She always has her armor on, and has seemed to be short and brusque in any interactions.
Kiiv Caedenns, non-binary maraquoi. Kiiv is the ship's engineer. He is curious about most of the passengers, and will always have questions about your homes and family if you engage them in conversation.
Lozu Pahir is the ship's first mate. She is a human woman, and has long, dark hair and a round face. She seems to always be working, and constantly has a data pad in her hands. She is helpful and approachable, however.
Rameem Vi Siala Corsen, Captain. From what you have heard, he is a kasatha man, though it so happens none of you have made his acquaintance yet.
Professor Benjam is quite the talkative sort. You have found out he has been on some archaeological digs recently.
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”. . . Can you believe that? Completely out of situ! All the context data, lost! You’ll never find that happening on one of my expeditions, no siree!” the professor ended while he was talking to the Nuar. Geez, I just asked him where he was coming from to be polite. the Nuar thought to himself. Didn’t expect a twenty minute lecture about bad archaeology practices.
”Anyway, where are you coming from?” the professor asked.
The Nuar sighed and put down his datapad. Guess I won’t get any reading done ‘till this guy’s exhausted himself from flapping his own gums.
”Took a trip to Ryban five.” he let out in his peculiar accent. ”I’ve been chasing down shome. . . academic type. Be built a machine that. . . Uh. . . ‘dishappeared’ a few of hish classmatesh then skipped town before he could face the concequences. I’ve been hired to find him. Got a tip he wash in the Ryban shystem, but he had taken off by the time I got there.”
T'sorkel proudly shows off T'regen and Darluk to Kiiv and any others interested. Yes, these are my boys. They're twins a little more than one year old. The hosts entrusted them to me on my trip to help them learn about being off-world and to see different cultures. My studies bring me to see lots of different people, and that should help them as they grow up.
As larvae, they don't really have good physical senses yet, but their psychic awareness is growing. They are aware of all of us and can feel the interactions our presences conduct. I hope that like me, they will also be able to sense the Archive.
He looks at Kiiv. Maraquoi families are similar, yes? You have multiple members of family marriages which share parentage with the offspring? I still find it hard to think of how humans and others carry this burden with only two partners. Think of how unstable the genetics can be with only two parents! Do you have any mates, Kiiv?
It seems T'sorkel knows quite a bit about Maraquoi, perhaps even being acquainted with some earlier in his life.
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Yariel heads straight to her quarters and quickly locks herself inside.
She does a quick but thorough scan for any immediate concerns to her health (exposed wiring, gas leaks, knife wielding maniac under the bed or in the closet, etc...). Finding none she plugs in her computer and begins playing the ship information in the background while doing her own research.
Her first priority is to work up a full readout on the ship's systems and download copies of all their repair manuals. Being stranded when a ship engineer drops from a heart attack and not being able to get things fixed is a constant paranoia of hers.
As the ship info video lists the restricted areas, she rolls her eyes and resumes her research. Once everything is queue'd up, she takes a much closer look at her cabin. Inch by inch inspecting for recording devices and hidden hatches. She also looks over the vent and utility conduit systems to see if there would be enough space for her or someone else to use them to move around the ship.
After the ship launches, she waits about twenty minutes before her stomach growls. The Ysoki heads to the galley to order a deli-meat sandwich and carbonated beverage. Sitting by herself in the corner she starts skimming the manuals for the primary systems, occasionally taking a bite or drink.
As the Shirren and Taur begin chattering at the table over about family she jumps in with a correction, "Having two partners would be a luxury for most of us. I grew up with my Ma an five siblings. We had plenty of help in the community, the old saying 'it takes a village to raise a child' and all that. But mostly it was just us struggling day by day. That's most of the people I knew too. So many deaths at the hands of the corrupt a-holes in power." The vitriol in her voice definitely shows she harbors a bit of a grudge still.
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The first time Grath does his little fingerguns, Yariel just rolls her eyes and says, "as if."
The second time he gives his little spiel, Yariel stands up on the table and waves him over. Grabbing him by the shirt collar she leans in and whispers in his ear, "Why don't you head back to your quarters, take out that bottle of liquid happiness and
Grath shrinks back somewhat after Yariel shuts him down. He quietly murmurs "I guess I'll have to find someone else who wants to have some fun." He begins looking over the other passengers, perhaps wondering if any of them would like to knock back a few later tonight....
Upon boarding the Chimera Doc takes a moment to efficiently stow her belongings in her berth before settling down in the corner of the dining hall, nursing a drink and observing the general comings and goings with mild interest.
At some point on the first or second day, she walks past the hobgoblin's booth, slipping a business card from a pocket in her coat and placing it on the edge of the table. "You look like a professional," she says, insinuating by omission exactly what profession the hobgoblin likely belongs to, "and when you need something, you need it done quickly, correctly, and without... unnecessary questions. I'm currently taking clients." Unless the hobgoblin responds immediately, Flint-Bridge retires to her table in the corner to continue person-watching.
The hobgoblin seems like she is in a particularly foul mood. You overhear her cursing security chief Iom as you first come into the room.
When she sees you, she clams up. She quietly accepts your card, though she seems to be sizing you up. After a moment, she says "if, and it's a very big IF, I can use your services, I will let you know. Otherwise, you should plan on staying out of our way."
Rar'gul ducks his head habitually as he boards the Chimera. He rumbles in surprise, pleased to find a couple of feet clearance between his head and the ceiling.
Dropping his gear off at his cabin, the trox eyes the tiny bed dubiously. "Looks like it'll be the bed rrroll on the floorrr," he observes, in his deep rumble. No different than the temple barracks, he reflects.
He settles in to watch the safety video, the mention of meal times reminding him of his recently purchased goodies. Tearing open the seal, he happily munches away on the BBQ Burger-O's, content for the remainder of the screening.
"Snackkks? I'll have to checkkk in on this chef some time," he murmurs. I wonder what was so funny? he thinks as the captain signs off.
Locking the cabin door behind him as he leaves, Rar'gul sets off along the hallway, intent on exploring what the ship has on offer. Garbed in the same plain clothes he wore earlier in the diner, he also carries a long rectangular metallic case - similar to those used to safely transport musical instruments or specialist tools - in one thick hand. The surface of the case is smooth and polished; its sole decorative feature a circular motif of a stylised shirren's head encircled by stars.
Part way through his tour of the Chimera's facilities, he pauses to brush some Burger-O crumbs from his chest.
"Lozu, I'm not sure I'm ready for such a thing. My upbringing was quite traditional. Though my feelings for you are quite strong, I just don't think this is the right time to make this public"
A second voice is kind and understanding: "Kiiv, I understand more than you know. When the time is right, I know you'll let me know...."
A few seconds later the engineer Kiiv Caeddens and first mate Lozu Pahir turn the corner. They smile and nod at you as they pass on their way.
T'sorkel tries to comfort the Maraquoi. I have often heard that a ship's crew becomes close. All the time you spend together and in the Drift. It may not replace your true family, but you all see and share things that no one else knows. I'm sure your shipmates feel that you are a part of their family, and we passengers are merely houseguests.
He nods to Yariel. That sounds very difficult. What became of your brothers and sisters? You seem to have knack for technology. Do they? T'sorkel looks to Yariel's left and stares, smiling and nodding.
You all find yourself gathering in the dining hall on the first night in the drift. According to the set meal schedule, dinner should be served quite soon. Meanwhile, it's an opportunity to gather and see exactly who else is on The Chimera.
Kiiv and Professor Benjam are here with you, though you haven't seen any of the other crew or passengers yet.
Professor Benjam holds up a dull gray metal cube, which is
approximately 1 foot on each side with a couple transparent
aluminum panels set within. He excitedly explains its
function to the maraquoi mechanic.
“The gentleman who sold this to me called it a ‘shrinking
box,’ a feat of engineering I was sure you would be interested in seeing, Kiiv. He said it worked according to
the same principles as a null-space chamber but for living
creatures! Look, peer into one of these windows! He told
me he put six pygosian rending geese inside and, as I’m sure you
know, just one of those fowl is almost as
big as a ysoki!” Professor Benjam notices Yuriel in the room and is momentarily uncomfortable.
Kiiv takes the box and investigates one of the panels.
“Professor, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think you
were scammed. Those are just tiny hummingbirds in there. I'm not even sure they're real.”
“Nonsense! He seemed like quite the reputable salesman!
I’m sure…” The professor reaches to take the box back from
Kiiv, but it slips from his hands and crashes onto the floor.
A loud crack accompanies a dazzling flash of light!
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Suddenly there are six very strange looking flightless birds making a sound that seems somewhere between a hiss and a bark in the dining hall. .
They're confused and hungry, and they attack!
1. T'Sorkel
2. John Rawlins
3. Purple
4. Black
5. Dr. Flint-Bridge
6. Yariel
7. Red
8. Green
9. Blue
10. Beauregard
11. Rar'gul
12. Orange
Bold may act.
T'sorkel blinks as the cube flashes. Odd, the Archive usually just shows me images without all the dramatics He looks around and sees the reptilian flightless birds.
What meaning does this have? Is this something about the Professor? With a practiced effort, he ignores the visions and turns to pick up the cube. Oh, I'll get it, Professor. May I inspect it? I'm always interested in rare items from various cultures.
Professor Benjam and Kiiv are absolutely panicking.
"T'Sorkel! NO! The rending geese will kill you!"
Kiiv and Benjam scramble out of their chairs and move toward the corner of the room.
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John Rawlins appears at the doorway, still dressed in his corporate uniform. He looks a little pale, and is leaning heavily on his cane. He moves quickly to the nearest chair and sits down. Once there he sits quietly and observes the other pasengers, especially the nearby, spirited conversation between Benjam and Kiiv.
John stands and grips his cane. He looks at the geese, hears the warning to T'Sorkel. "Friend Trox, if we tip the table up, it might be a shield of sorts."
T'sorkel suddenly stares at them. You...you can see the Archive too? I... Suddenly, he understands. This wasn't an Akashic vision.
His eyes dart to the weird creatures, then to John as he tries to tip over the table as a barricade. Where did they come from?! He waves his hand and a loose tool flies towards the nearest creature.