Cidribvoot doesn't have enough room to twist between shoppers, so he slows down. When he looks again John is ten meters ahead and stopped in the intersection.
"Yes, I agree. Let's conclude our business. We can check the infosphere for your double. Maybe he is active on social networks."
You continue through Upwell seeking your proper travel visas. This means visiting the local OCI office.
The Office of Commercial Interests sits at the end of a wide, well-lit
plaza lined with other corporate offices—perhaps the cleanest
and most open space on Upwell. Several holodisplays lining
the area show sweeping vistas and sunny cloudscapes,
though the effect is marred by the occasional burst of static.
The interior of the OCI building seems to be built to accommodate
barathus first and foremost, and while the reception area
and meeting rooms accommodate humanoid visitors, it seems to all of you that flight is required to access the offices.
A bored looking barathu is currently working at the reception desk. They laconically greet you.
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T'sorkel places a hand on John's arm. Apologies, my friend is a bit blunt. Would you be willing to help us? Is this the right place for applying for permits?
Resplendent in his vestments, Rar'gul steps forward, hoping to add some weight - both literal and figurative - to their query.
"Yes, any help you ccan prrrovide us will be verry apprreciated," he rumbles.
Cidribvoot is not really paying attention to the actions of the crew. He focuses on his comm, double, triple checking the information he needs to provide to the OCI. Hmmm, technically I am still employed by Pike's Perytons. I should find -- maybe registering at a mercenary agency would be prudent. Now let me select a recent photo--no, bad lighting--smiling too much--laughing--laughing--laughing--food on my shirt--bad lighting--I look too old--ah this one.
The barathu attending to the front desk at the OCI seems amenable to assisting all of you, and even introduces themself. "I am called Cavence Sy Reel. I'm pleased to possible offer you assistance today. We have some forms for each of you desiring the proper visas to fill out."
You are each given a datapad. Not only do you need to fill out several forms, it requires documentation, both for each of you personally, and with regards to ownership of your starship.
It's unlikely you have such documents. Rar'gul, John, Dr. Flint-Bridge, and T'sorkel are particularly caught off guard by this.
On the other hand, Cavence does seem sincerely helpful
"Thankk you, Cavence Sy Rrreel," Rar'gul rumbles, accepting a datapad.
He continues chatting with the barathu as he swipes through the forms, requested items and information. "I must admit, I'm a little nerrvous. I've been wanting to visit for such a long time." The trox pauses to remove a twist from his stole of rank. "Nchakkk is so cclose but, at times, has seemed so farrr away."
Looking up from the datapad, he says, "You must have all sorrts of tales frrom yourrr time herre. Do you have any advice for us? You know, any ccommon mistakkkes appliccants makke that we should avoid, additional items we ccould incclude to smooth out the applicccation prrrocess, that sorrt of thing?"
T'sorkel looks panicked for a moment, thinking about the documentation they don't have. Um, ah. Yes, of course. Would you happen to have examples of what you need? Some of our documents are issued in a variety of places. It would be good to know what information is needed.
Cavence attempts to be as helpful as humanly ("barathuly"?) possible.
I can see that you are in a difficult spot. Sadly, without proper documentation it will likely take months to cut through the red tape. The only other way I could see you all getting to Roselight is through corporate sponsorship." With that, he motions to many of the corporate offices just across the plaza from the OCI. These include interest such as the Aspis Consortium, Hexane Fuels, or Fairwinds.
"Corporate sponsorship?" Cidribvoot says. "Oh, can we return to you later? Maybe schedule an appointment? I'm employed by Pike's Perytons and need to check with my superior if the processing for their independent contractor... uh, contracts went through."
T'sorkel considers this for a moment. If one of these corporates would help us get sponsorship, perhaps they can help us with other things too? Maybe we can use their databases to understand if there is more gray activity here.
John, do you know anything about these groups?
"Corporate sponsorship?" Cidribvoot says. "Oh, can we return to you later? Maybe schedule an appointment? I'm employed by Pike's Perytons and need to check with my superior if the processing for their independent contractor... uh, contracts went through."
Cavence is pleased to set up an appointment for all of you. They suggest 48 hours for you to secure local employment.
Aspis Consortium: Even the most basic of searches informs you that the Aspis Consortium is bad news. They are a legitimate organization recognized by the Pact Worlds, but they are beset by controversy. This includes rumors of genocide, extortion, and participation in the android slave trade.
Hexane Fuels and Fairwinds seem to be far more neutral in reputation, even having a favorable standing in most communities where they do business.
Of interest to John, there is also a local chapel and outpost for Abadarcorp. Ostensibly, "employment" could also be availed to you all there.
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"Ah well, rumors are going around about a bad ending for the Perytons," Cidribvoot says after doing some infosphere sleuthing. "We're not going to use it as a screen to hid our true employment. I guess I'll seek out a job to ferry passengers between the station and their starships. Though I could drive a transport on Absalom -- cargo deliveries always need to be moved right?"
Cidribvoot finds employment with Hexane fuels ferrying passengers and light supplies to Roselight. They're interested in contracting with you and your starship. You would not be moving heavy equipment or fuel, but would be moving uniforms, hand tools, and other ordinary supplies through Roselight.
You are paid a 500 credit sign-on bonus.
T'sorkel goes to speak to Fairwinds for a bit, offering his services as a translator during negotiations or disputes. He lists the languages he speaks as well as several cultures that he's studied and might be able to provide consultations on their mannerisms, rituals, and societal faux pas. He also brings his Tetred Certified Translator should there be anything outside his experience.
T'sorkel, you as well are offered employment through Hexane. Apparently they are in the middle of a rapid expansion on this planet! You will act as a liaison with a group of vesk recently arrived from the Veskarium who have limited skills with the common tongue.
You are paid a 500 credit sign-on bonus.
"Though I could drive a transport on Absalom -- cargo deliveries always need to be moved right?"
Rar'gul nods in agreement. "I rrememberrr hearring that "The line between disorrderr and orrderr lies in logisticccs"" he rumbles. "Although it was in rreferrence to a militarry forrrce, I imagine it's also trrue forr an expanding cccorrporrration."
"I'm might not be much help when it comes to piloting, but I should be able to get things to wherre they need to go."
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Lilly joins the team headed to the Hexane employment office.
She’ll give herself a bit of liquid luck before she goes inside.
“T’sorkel and I worked extensively with Rar’gul in the past. He sometimes presents a little rough around the edges, but he always comes through when things get busy or tight!”
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John considers how to make his contribution. If the local chapel of Abadarcorp provides resources and opportunities that he knows how to take advantage of, it also represents a terrible risk. If they are aware that he is wanted by the Stewards, they will feel duty bound to turn him in. And repugnance fills him at the prospect of lying to corporation officials.
On the other hand, the various skills that the corporation has trained him in would be of most value to a criminal enterprise -- or a local theatrical company. Deliberately choosing criminal activity is also repugnant, and theatrical companies notoriously don't pay well.
He sighs and shakes his head.
John approaches Fairwinds. (Take 20 on disguise for 36.) He represents himself as a candidate maintenance worker.
John prepares himself for the interview. (Take 20 on disguise for 36.) He presents himself as a file clerk, and uses keywords and paraphrased axioms of the Abadaran rite to show himself a devoted follower.
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"Though I could drive a transport on Absalom -- cargo deliveries always need to be moved right?"Rar'gul nods in agreement. "I rrememberrr hearring that "The line between disorrderr and orrderr lies in logisticccs"" he rumbles. "Although it was in rreferrence to a militarry forrrce, I imagine it's also trrue forr an expanding cccorrporrration."
"I'm might not be much help when it comes to piloting, but I should be able to get things to wherre they need to go."
[Dice=Athletics]1d20+13
Whether it's certain prejudices against a trox applicant, or he's simply unconvinced Rar'gul can do the job, the application is initially rejected.
As Rar'gul steps away from the desk, he notices that a second HR representative has engaged the HR person that Rar'gul interacted with. Something about "quotas" and "increased work loads" are hurriedly discussed.
Finally, the second HR representative calls out to Rar'gul. "Mr. Rar'gul, we'd like to take a second look at your application..."
You are offered a contract, and a 500 credit sign on bonus.
Lilly joins the team headed to the Hexane employment office.
She’ll give herself a bit of liquid luck before she goes inside.
[dice=Medicine to sell herself as a ship’s medic]1d20+15+2+1d6
“T’sorkel and I worked extensively with Rar’gul in the past. He sometimes presents a little rough around the edges, but he always comes through when things get busy or tight!”
Hexane is unquestionably pleased to have Dr. Flint-Bridge on board. She is offered a contract that includes a 1200 credit sign-on bonus.
John considers how to make his contribution. If the local chapel of Abadarcorp provides resources and opportunities that he knows how to take advantage of, it also represents a terrible risk. If they are aware that he is wanted by the Stewards, they will feel duty bound to turn him in. And repugnance fills him at the prospect of lying to corporation officials.
On the other hand, the various skills that the corporation has trained him in would be of most value to a criminal enterprise -- or a local theatrical company. Deliberately choosing criminal activity is also repugnant, and theatrical companies notoriously don't pay well.
He sighs and shakes his head.
[dice= Computers check to see how public our wanted status is, and estimate the odds the local chapel is aware] 1d20+ 13
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
It seems there is a real danger that AbadarCorp may know that John is wanted. It's a routine matter for security bulletins to be distributed throughout the corporation. There is some hope that most don't pay much attention to the bulletins, but there's always the chance that a very zealous mid-level manager may recognize John and his cohorts.
Hexane may be the best bet
They happily offer a contract and a 500 credit sign-on bonus.
So, it seems that the crew are all gainfully employed.
As you celebrate by enjoying some decent food from a noodle stand near the central plaza on the space station, several of you receive a comm message.
It reads "I know who you are, and I have my eye on you."
When Cidribvoot reads the comm message, the noodles he is chewing lose their flavor. They feel scratchy as he swallows them. He consciously doesn't turn around to scan the surroundings. He passes his comm to anyone who didn't get a ping.
"Well, I've lost my appetite. I didn't expect this."
He looks at the others' faces trying to judge their reaction to the message. Finally, he glances down at his food and starts to eat again. "Well, it's better to eat when you have the chance, even if you're not hungry. I've been a few places with rationing during prolonged hostilities. Who knows when we'll be here again?"
T'sorkel slurps at his noodles and opens the comm message. His antennae stop suddenly, frozen in place. A high pitched squeak comes from him before he drops his utensils, splashing sauce over the table. Did you also get this? The Shirren suddenly looks around quickly in a panic.
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John reaches over and takes Cid's proffered comm, then he gestures for T'sorkel to give him his comm. He compares the messages. Looking at the shirren, he taps his head and circles a finger to include the group.
Same message on both comms. Someone is messing with us. There's no logic to this game unless they are just trying to raise the pressure on us. Feels like another grey or reptoid power play. We may receive some kind of demand later.
These comms are compromised. Odds are all our comms are, whether we received messages or not. We should procure a new set for communication among ourselves.
Other than that, we play the hand dealt us.
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Lilly watches John for a moment, then gives the smallest of nods.
She pulls out a syringe, fills it with a biohack, and gives herself a shot of liquid luck.
After she safely packs away the syringe, Lilly pulls out her comm unit, taps it a couple of times, shakes it, and frowns.
“Geez, this tech,” she says in her ‘out loud’ voice. “Sometimes I wish it bio-based. At least then I could heal it. Guess I’ll have to do the next best thing…”
She looks intently at her screen for a few moments, then smiles.
“Good news… the, uh, repair shop we were looking for? It's close by. Closer than we thought... maybe a five minute walk. C'mon, let’s go! After all, we don’t want to, ah, miss any important messages.”
She wiggles her eyebrows a bit and gives a lop-sided smile.
Using the information from the comm unit, Lilly leads the way to the apartment. Once the team is in a more secluded spot on the way, she’ll tell everybody what she found.
Rar'gul sits forward, peering at the comms over the heads of his companions. He emits an uneasy rumble.
I don't like this. On the back of that being we lost in the crowd, too! he shares telepathically. It would be good to put an end to this before we move for our new contract and head off-station.
Rar'gul looks confused when Doc starts talking about a repair shop. Perplexed, he nonetheless stands and follows his small friend.
Do you want an accomplice? Cidribvoot asks using the group's telepathic members for communication. So you know, I've always relied on my natural talents. Never studied the arts of stealth and infiltration.
T'sorkel continues to relay mental communication as they follow Lilly to the apartment. Please stay close, I can't reach you with my telepathy if you stray too far!
The grad student looks around nervously as they approach the apartment. We don't know who might be there! They sounded like they mean business. What if it's a cabal of grays?
The address you have found leads you into the depths of the station. You turn a corner in a long corridor and find a door inscribed with the apartment number you're looking for.
Rar'gul checks the apartment number and stops, gesturing at the door.
This is it, he sends to the group telepathically.
Alert for trouble, the trox gives the door the once over.
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Lilly stops next to the Trox, checks the address, and nods.
“Agreed, Rar’gul… we’re here. ”
She starts to look around, then stops. “I feel like I should look around for cameras or traps or things, but given what this whoever-it-is can do, I wonder if it’s pointless.”
She gives a slight shrug, then continues. “Eh, screw it.”
"Is there an emergency exit we should watch too?" Cidribvoot asks glancing down the hallway. "A balcony or escape way in case of fire."
The door is quite normal, and in fact, unlocked.
Inside, you find the tiny apartment hastily abandoned. Though otherwise clean and well-kept, you see dirty dishes on the table and a pot with food still in it on the warming appliance in the kitchen.
There are many old-fashioned printed books, either neatly arranged on a shelf, or stacked on an end table. Among them are books about conspiracies and mysterious, invisible alien masterminds. There are also several unhinged conspiracy-theory trivids on the shelves.
What troubles all of you the most is that there is a camera with several candid holophotos of all of you walking through the station's main plaza, eating at the noodle hut, etc.
T'sorkel is taken aback by the apartment. Not only the pictures of them, which worries the Shirren terribly. But then he sees the archaic books and nearly seems to forget any cause for concern. Look at all these! The student begins flipping through several, commenting on the descriptions of the aliens masterminds, secret facilities, and powerful energy lines accessible when the stars align.