The events of the Scoured Stars have left the Starfinder Society crippled, as most of the Society’s agents and assets vanished within the now inaccessible systems. The Society’s prestige has crumbled, and many of the Starfinders’ distant holdings fell to alien forces within months of the incident. Only the actions of one outspoken Starfinder, Luwazi Elsebo, have held the Society together. Even with the dedication of Luwazi and her allies, the Society suffered further losses as disillusioned agents opted to part ways with the organization. Maintaining the Society’s interests was too much for the few remaining agents to handle, so Luwazi turned to outside assistance from reputable mercenary organizations while she scrambled for new recruits.
With the Starfinders on the brink of ruin, Luwazi’s hopes now rest in the hands of a new generation of recruits and ambitious factions. These freshly-graduated agents represent the first step the Starfinder Society is taking to reposition itself at the forefront of galactic exploration, but what factions they will champion, and what discoveries they will make has yet to be seen...
Mao lay in her bunk in the capsule in the trainee dorms that dared to be labeled something much more dignified, like "room" or "compartment." Most of the recruits in the class didn't understand why she liked the coffin-like chamber, but then, they hadn't grown up in the worst parts of the Spike, living in warrens always under threat of losing life support or the gang violence that had become so prevalent in the under-policed passages away form the main power trunks. Mao had, and the capsule had more than most realized. It was clean, comfortable enough, safe, and free. She smiled at the memory of a certain Lord Furion, Second son of some noble she couldn't be bothered to remember. He had complained, loudly, that no one could endure living in the trainee dorms. He had also turned an interesting shade of puce when Mao had told him that the dorms were megameters better than her old cubbyhole in the Spike. She'd also cheerfully informed him that said cubbyhole was now a cloud of debris thanks to a moonshiner not building their still properly.
She was going to miss this place, she decided. She could only hope that her new crew were at least tolerable, unlike Lord Furion. She chuckled again and thought about everything that had happened since signing up with the Starfinders. Her life really had changed for the better. She remembered getting top marks in a marksmanship class. It was a feat that she was proud of even if the second ranking trainee, a ysoki sniper with enough experience to have been her mother, made sure that she never got the top spot again.
It hadn't all been good times, though. She frowned as she remembered later that same week the confrontation she had with another stuck-up prick, Valrex Stromeye. He had recognized her, and she had been slow to recognize, him, unfortunately. It wasn't until he started blackmailing her into doing his assignments that she realized who he was. The encounter had left her with a sour taste in her mouth and the feeling that she'd never be clean again. Even now she felt the need to take a shower. She'd managed, somehow, to do as he demanded, but with graduation near, how long would he keep his promise of not revealing what she had been before joining the Starfinders a secret.
She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs from her mind. There was no sense worrying about that now. She was graduating tomorrow, and no matter what happened after, she could look herself in the mirror and be proud of what she had done. She smiled at that thought and closed her eyes. Tomorrow was a new day and the start of a new adventure. It's time to rest up so she could make the most of it.
Like most Raxilites, Urmfehrumah was sprouted directly into a bioengineered nursery/PhD program, and stayed rooted there until they reached maturity (at just over one Pact Standard year old). In their case, they’d chosen to dig their roots deep into xenobiology and toxicology, but also branched out into a smattering of computer programming, cultural studies, engineering, medicine, and physical sciences. By the time Urmferumah had reached maturity (their kinder-roots withering and falling off into the soil, their first flower blossoming on their head) they were a Doctor of Life Sciences and ready to leave the nursery for the first time...but had still met few people outside the Raxilites and Lashunta that had nursed and educated them.
While waiting to hear if they’d been accepted into the Starfinders, Doc Newblossom had spent a bit of time visiting with xenobiologists in Qabarat on Castrovel, but this was their first time visiting Absolom station. Urmferumah arrived on a classic Raxilite ship (an organic starship that looks something like an enormous, space-faring crustacean bioengineered to survive in the vacuum of space and navigate the Drift).
Stepping out of their ship, Doc Newblossom’s eyes go wide and blink rapidly. All around were massive aliens rushing back and forth. Urmfehrumah reflexively takes a step back into the hatch. Relax, Urmfehrumah. You’ve seen other giants before. You just spend three months with Lashunta on Castrovel.
...but there weren’t sooo maany, and they weren’t moving sooo faasst.
Talking in a deep breath of CO2, they step out into the street, consult the map in their handheld, and find their way to the Starfinder agent training.
Walking down the hallway toward their first training, Doc Newblossom amuses themself by trying to identify each alien they passed. Not really noticing that they’re speaking aloud, they walk along saying ”Hmmm. Shirren...ysoki...human...human...lashunta...shirren...Oh! Why I think that’s a real dragonkin! Probably from Triaxus. And…” They paused to scan with their microlab (flashing an aquamarine light briefly over the alien. ”No way, a Shakatla! Fascinating!”
Suddenly, the 16-inch tall sentient plant notices eyes turn to look at them. Doc Newblossom wears a bulging backpack and carries their tiny, custom microlab/chemalyzer. When they see the Shakatla look at them, they wave both a tiny hand and a whole network of prehensile vines. ”You’re the first being with an energy body I’ve met. Of course I’ve read about you--and how you manage to form one being out of two beings. What’s your name? Or names? Do you mind if I scan you a bit more?”
Yesterday, Doc Newblossom's academic mastery of biology, physics, chemistry, and cultural history had kept them in good stead. This morning though...
...They were drilling with small arms and rifles. They had to run, vault over obstacles, and attempt to avoid each others detection. None of the data crystals Urmfehrumah had read about those subjects prepared them for the reality of doing it.
They felt, Surely if I can simply calculate the relevant vectors on both the x- and y-axis, with approximate corrections for the station's gravity, I'll have an advantage with this target practice...and then were confronted with just how wrong they were.
Dabbing the sap from their brow, Doc Newblossom was clearly relieved when lunch break finally arrived. They grabbed a tray of replicated animal protein in their two tiny hands, while their LFAN (the network of bioengineered prehensile vines that are attached to their brainstem) pulled over a tall stool so that they could reach the edge of the table.
Urmfehrumah settled at a table that had a couple humans at it. "Hey. I'm Doc Urmfehrumah Newblossom. Who're you?"
As they ate, she continued, "You know, I've read so much about humans--and particularly loved Pfaeg Ducjikji's treatise Humans: More Than Mere Mushy Mammals. Have you read it? It made me feel almost as though I could view the world through human eyes.
"Even so, I still have so many questions. Like, what is it like to be part of a dioecious species? Does having only one kind of reproductive organ make you feel incomplete in any way? Is that you keep your reproductive organs covered in public?"
Carter was amonger the older Humans who began training. While he did exceptionally well in general studies, he was very much a novice in learning to use his powers.
Also unlike many of his fellow studunts, Carter was very invested in learning. He didn't bother with trips to various bars on the station or trying to woo a sexual partner; for Carter, it was all about learning.
Besides, Carter was divorced.
As a result of all his studying, Carter didn't make alot of friends; truly, the only people who talked to him were those who wanted his help studying or to cheat of him. Such highschool shenanigans were beneath him, however.
So it was that far too quickly Carter graduated from training and...nothing. He did not receive an immediate assignment, so he continued to avail himself of whatever magical knowledge was available.
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Walking down the hallway toward their first training, Doc Newblossom amuses themself by trying to identify each alien they passed. Not really noticing that they’re speaking aloud, they walk along saying ”Hmmm. Shirren...ysoki...human...human...lashunta...shirren...Oh! Why I think that’s a real dragonkin! Probably from Triaxus. And…” They paused to scan with their microlab (flashing an aquamarine light briefly over the alien. ”No way, a Shakatla! Fascinating!”
Suddenly, the 16-inch tall sentient plant notices eyes turn to look at them. Doc Newblossom wears a bulging backpack and carries their tiny, custom microlab/chemalyzer. When they see the Shakatla look at them, they wave both a tiny hand and a whole network of prehensile vines. ”You’re the first being with an energy body I’ve met. Of course I’ve read about you--and how you manage to form one being out of two beings. What’s your name? Or names? Do you mind if I scan you a bit more?”
Acoria can't believe the turns her life has taken recently. Voxy/Yoxv and Acoria were the only two survivors of the joint Star Guardian-Skyfire Legion taskforce sent by the Guardians to investigate the disappearance of a research team on Noxterna. After nearly dying on Noxterna and losing her ryphorian partner, Blossom, Voxy had saved her with her light.
The experience had made them close, and Acoria learned that Voxy wanted to be a captain. Acoria owed her life to the Shakalata and swore her partner bond to Voxy, suggesting that they join the Starfinders as the fastest route to her captaincy. Yxov hadn't been happy with the decision, but their triangle was often thus. Now just a few short weeks later, they were together on Absalom Station and in their first day of training.
I'll be able to do far more good as an Exo-Guardian Starfinder than I ever did in the Skyfire Legion. Not to mention I'll probably get rich, and be piloting a ship and wearing powered armor in no time!
Her thoughts are interrupted by a miniscule creature flashing a blue light at Yxov, who was unfortunately in charge of Voxy's body right now. The thing appears to be some kind of plant, which is smaller than one of Acoria's feet. Acoria arches her long neck low to get a better look at the critter. Her voice is as booming and draconic as one would expect from a ten foot long dragon that must weigh close to a ton.
Yxov's photoreceptors bore into the back of Acoria as they followed her through the corridor. The dragonkin had talked Voxy into joining her to leave the Star-Guardians and become a Starfinder. They already had a lovely position as an ensign on board the patrol vessel Radiant Song and was on the captaincy track. It would have only been a mere two hundred, two hundred fifty years tops and they would have the requisite experience to be named captain of their own vessel.
But Acoria had talked Voxy out of that very reasonable plan. He loved Voxy, and loved her for her spontaneity and quick wit. It was a delight to her her internal commentary when she was dormant, and to watch her charm with others when it was her time to be out. But Acoria brought out the worst in her.
Before he could protest, she had resigned their commission with the Star-Guardians and had them on a transport to Absalom Station. She had forced their hand, so the Starfinders were their only chance to become a captain of a vessel. And the fact that it would only take a few months, maybe a few years didn't excite him in the least. Nope.
Shut up, Voxy.
His musings were cut off by a short, animated plant asking about Shakaltas excitedly.
"Oh! Hello, fellow light-eater. I'm Yxov, and my other half is called Voxy. We join because we wouldn't be complete if we didn't. Um, sure, you can scan me, I suppose? Or, wait. With what type of instrument?"
Mao nearly trips when she sees a plant and a dragon talking. A plant that could talk? She'd only heard about such things from Shiver-Scars mumbling in their fever dreams, and she never drank from anything she didn't know exactly where it had been. That is the only reason she knows she isn't on a dream walk or a trip through the Drift. She shakes her head and moves on, deciding that it is too much of a risk. The dragon, twin-lit, and plant are too memorable. She needs to lie low. Before any of the trio can see her, she presses on to orientation.
So much for laying low, Mao thinks as she gets her lunch, grilled fauxltry with 'ponic rice and veggies. Just had to go and claim the top spot out of the gate. She grabs a sealed drink, something with some caffeine in it to help her stay awake in the afternoon class, and sees the plant from yesterday sit with some humans, who after a minute or so finish their meals and leave the little plant alone. For a few minutes, Mao struggles to ignore the lonely alien and growls a curse for her own kindheartedness before getting up and heading for the plant's table with her tray.
"Hey, mind if I join you? Food's better when eaten with others." she says, repeating something she'd heard once while trying to ignore her growling stomach as a child. She remembers the laughter from that run-down suite stuffed with too many people, and feels the almost ignored pang of jealous that always rears its head when she recalls that happy family that she never knew.
So much for laying low, she thinks, a wry smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Mao groans as she feels the fatigue dragging at her. Her encounter with Boss Stormeye's brat of a youngest son has done nothing to improve her mood, and her day has only gotten steadily worse from there. She thinks about getting everything wrong just to screw him over, but he would take her with him, and probably make sure she died slow and painful while he was at it.
"Godsdamned brat!"
The curse echoes through the library and she looks around to see who had said it, only to realize she had. Her cheeks color as she starts to look around. Her eyes lock with Carter's, and all the color from her face drains as a million possibilities flit through her head like warren sparrows in the atrium after the start of a gunfight. Her mind goes blank. She sits there frozen, waiting for her doom to come.
Before the librarian can shush her, The middle-aged man reading between two large stacks of books does it first.
When she looks, he meets her eyes and the looks pointedly at the door.
Mao mouths an apology to Carter and goes back to work. Curiously, she is taking about twice as long as reasonable for the simple assignment they were given today.
Carter gives the young woman a nod and then returns to his own studies.
Whump!
The tiny, onion-headed Raxilite tumbles backwards at the dragonkin's booming voice.
After collecting themself and brushing themself off, the tiny plant-being say proudly, "I'm Doctor Urmfehrumah Newblossom, and I'm a Raxilite. We're a highly advanced botanical species from the planet Raxil. Who are you?"
Turning to the Shakalta, they add, "Ooooh, you do have two names? The data crystal I read didn't make that clear and I was wondering. I'll confess, we Raxilites are actually one of the few non-photosynthetic botanical sentient lifeforms. It was a side effect of bioengineering ourselves to have our roots atrophy at the end our our Nursery Year. It means mature Raxilites can walk about...but it also means I have to eat food much like your dragon friend. Prior to that, we stayed rooted all our lives.
"On the plus side...you can count on me not to eat you, eh?
"Oh, and this is a custom microlab. My siblings and I hacked it together using parts of a chemalyzer and a medkit and a bunch of other useful nanites, pharmaceuticals, and catalysts. It's really handy for figuring out just what something is--that's what I was scanning for--but I can also use the pharmaceuticals and nanites in it to biohack people. Say, if you wanted to be able to move faster, or to have a temporary biochemically edge in completing some tricky task.
"I've only tried it on carbon-based lifeforms so far, but in principal my nanites should be easy to adjust for a light-based lifeform. Shall we give it a try?"
Yxov's light pulses erratically. "Biohacking and nanites? I appreciate you not wanting to, ahem, eat me, but I think I'll have to decline. That seems... like it could be unpleasant. If I struggle with some task and light-or-dark stakes are at play, perhaps I could be persuaded. But not now."
He opts not to mention that Voxy thinks it sounds neat.
Your training has finished, and withe the beginning of a new Daycycle on the Station comes your first mission at the Lorespire Complex!
Lorespire lies within the Ring, far from the opulence of the neighborhoods in the station's Eye, but also quite unlike the depths of squalor that can be found downspike. Those of you who habitually pore over your briefings know who and what to expect from your new team, but others might be surprised by the friendly faces awaiting them outside!
As the doors to the Lorespire Complex slide open, a green holographic image of a middle-aged human woman shimmers into view at the center of the room. "Greetings," it says. "I am Guidance. 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."
"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."
With a blink to signal its action, Guidance forward along loc-pings to each of you, marking out the senior agents to whom you will be reporting today: Radaszam 'The Dealmaker' in the Nyori Palisades; Historia-7, right here in Lorespire Complex; Zigvigix at a residence in Downlow; and finally Fitch, who's off-station in the Armada, aboard the Master of Stars.
The ships of this fleet are increasingly at risk of bringing back undetected alien life, simply because the policing Stewards lack the numbers to search every orbiting ship...
got loose somewhere in the Downlow district of the station. The creature is now contained in a warehouse, but not before it impaled a security officer with a harpoon-like natural projectile.
Carter takes the implant, opting to install in on his left hand.
Voxy stands proudly at attention as they begin the graduation ceremony. She gives the 'genetic' sample -- more accurately a precise recording of their unique light wave down to the smallest fraction of ℓ P. Then they're offered the subdermal implant and Voxy giggles. "Ooh! It glows, even!" She rolls up her sleeve, her natural light filling the chamber. "Do you think it'll even show up?"
Voxy ultimately declines getting the implant at the internal urging of Yxov.
Voxy spots the little sentient plant they had met earlier moving through one of the hallways. She dashes in front of the Raxilite, positively glowing. "Doctor Newblossom! I've been wanting to meet you! Well, you'd met us earlier, when Yxov was out, and I wanted to see if you were as adorable as he thought!"
She leans down close, looming over the biohacker. "Oooh! I love your flower! Sooo cute! And Yxov thinks so too; don't let him tell you any different." One part of her glowing face dims then brightens again in the equivalent of a wink.
"Do you think it'll even show up?"
"Of course," the hologram responds in a not-quite monotone, "the design would be calibrated to appear in a different portion of the visual spectrum from your typical ranges."
"My name is Carter Hamilton. I'm an engineer, and I have just recently learned magic."
"Likewise. I must admit to not having met one of your species before. I look forward to getting to know more about your people."
Mao does as she's asked without saying anything even just shaking her head or nodding when asked about the holo-tat. She didn't want anything too remarkable showing, and that would qualify. For the moment, she's content to listen to the others, at least until Acoria starts the introductions.
"Maonva Mazak," she says softly, "I'm more of the heavy metal type, if you catch my drift."
"So it sounds like we need to report to each of these faction leaders and see what they wish us to do."
Yxov/Voxy have heard that the mysterious critter has killed more than the ambushed Steward, and that it was able to generate some sort of field that redirected the force of weaponry used against it in those initial clashes...
***
As Acoria is well aware, the Exo-Guardians do not currently have a headquarters on Absalom Station, so the loc-ping you follow instead leads you towards Zigvigix's home address in Downlow, a poor but trendy neighborhood.
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. Their antennae perk up at the tremor of your approaching footsteps. "Welcome, Acoria, and the rest of you 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 in 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 Strawberrry 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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Acoria takes out her laser pistol, saluting with military precision. Small wisps of fire escape from her jaws as she barks. Her claws begin to glow with heat, as she considers burning things and her excitement grows. She seems to have completely missed hearing the second half of the assignment, leaving someone else to grab the credstick.
Yxov steps forward, ignoring Acoria's enthusiasm for the moment. He accepts the credstick. "Standing in a queue? I think that's a perfect job to start out. Very sane and straightforward. I say we should get started at once, before the lines get too long."
"What can you tell us about this creature?" Carter asked, while giving Acoria a look with a quirked eyebrow.
Zigvigix fiddles with a small personal device, tooth barbs clacking intermittently as they reply. "I believe the creature is a feather stalker, a predator far more unpleasant than its name implies! As far as the Stewards have been able to piece together, a two-bit crime lord, possibly a business partner of the warehouse owner illegally imported the creature, and the beast promptly ate him and killed one of his bodyguards. Oh! I have some security footage as well." Zigvigix holds up a screen that projects composite footage of the feather stalker's brief rampage.
It's an oddly constructed beast that seems to be made up of long feathery appendages and little else. Despite its diffuse build, it possesses surprising speed and power.
"No clue, but people name animals the weirdest things."
Ziggy cocks their head to the side. "It stalks you and kills you with feathers. And it's a stalker that's made of feathers. What would you call it?"
"Kill it from range and don't get dead, then try to repeat our success by buying an album and not getting mauled to death by rabid fans, right," Mao asks.
Doc Newblossom nods (their petals drooping slightly) when Yxov declines to sample their biohacks.
Immediately after Doc Newblossom starts to pepper the humans at their table with questions, they get up and walk off.
”Wait, why are you leaving? Do humans not like to talk during meals?” Doc Newblossom tries to think back through what they’ve read about humans, and whether perhaps they’re mixing them up with the pahtra or ysoki again. Sigh. Why are mammalian aliens so hard to keep track of?
They’re just recording a note in their handheld to research humans more when another human comes and sits down across from them.
"Hey, mind if I join you? Food's better when eaten with others." she says, repeating something she'd heard once while trying to ignore her growling stomach as a child.
Urmferumah starts a bit but unfurls her neck-leaves, grateful for the company. They release a brush of pollen into the air as a greeting...and then remembers reading that humans shake hands instead of sharing pollen. They hold out their (3 cm long) hand, and shake it wildly in the air. ”Greetings. I am Doctor Urmfehrumah Newblossom. Who are you?”
They consider asking their list of questions about what it’s like to be a member of a dioecious species...but decide perhaps dioecious species don’t like to discuss themselves over meals and instead, between bites, asks ”Where are you from? What brings you here?”
Urmfehrumah beams at Voxy’s glowing greeting. ”Thank you. I am sure there are many pleasures unique to non-flowering sentients as well, but I have to say that ever since I’ve flowered I’ve felt a fuzzy warmth in from my rootlets to my stamen. I’ve heard I’ll lose it when I go to seed, but my siblings who've already gone to seed assure me it comes back whenever they flower.
“Tell me...what pleasures are unique to Shakaltas?”
Doc Newblossom happily accepts the implant.
”Woah. Eukaryotic! Of course I’ll take one. After my LFAN, this will only be my second implant...at least until I can start developing my own.”
When paired up with Voxy, Acoria, Mao, and Carter, Doc Newblossom waves one of the prosthetic vines that sprout from their neck at each of them. The one Urmfehrumah knows least is Carter, but when he mentions engineering, she unfurls her collar-leaves in his direction. "Greetings, Human Carter. I've studied some engineering, but have had few practical opportunities so far. Perhaps we will have the chance to collaborate on some, in the near future?"
As they discuss their talents, the Doctor puffs out proudly and explains, ”In my doctoral work, I dug my roots deepest into xenobiology and toxicology, but also branched out into a smattering of computer programming, cultural studies, engineering, medicine, and physical sciences.
“I’m only just starting to feel comfortably with my rifle, but while I learn I hope to help others with medical care and an assortment of nanites and biohacks. You know…TO HELP MAKE YOU AWESOME!!!”
Doc Newblossom had only known the basics about Absalom Station, and was only OK at gathering info about local happenings...but their prosthetic vines quivered with excitement when they heard about the feather stalker.
”Great Berries of Benziyin-5! Of course I’ve studied the feathered stalker. They are beautiful, aren't they? I can see why someone illegally imported one...but they're tricky too. I’d keep an eyestalk to the sky, as they say, since they're excellent climbers. Fortunately for us, they need to rest for a second or two after the spasm that launches their harpoons, so you can at least be comforted that they'll be skewering us one at a time.
"I hope we can keep some of it’s genetic material intact when we kill it. Oh, and I hope it doesn't kill us all.
“Shall we go?”
"Greetings to you as well, Doctor. I would be happy to answer any questions I can, but I'm still sort of new to this; before my powers developed, I was a Forensic Accountant."
"Well, do we want to head to the record store or the warehouse first?"
"We had heard that the feathered stalker also could redirect weapons that were attacking it. Some sort of field, they said."
Yxov was getting a little nervous that the group would want to go after this creature first. If the thing proved difficult to kill, then going after it might mean they lose their chance to procure the album. If it was too difficult to kill, well, he didn't like to think of those repercussions.
"Dr. Newblossom, in your studies, have you learned of any weaknesses of the creatures? What about its lifespan? Maybe we could simply wait it out. Seal it off and in a couple years, maybe a decade or two, the problem will fix itself."
Urmferumah starts a bit but unfurls her neck-leaves, grateful for the company. They release a brush of pollen into the air as a greeting...and then remembers reading that humans shake hands instead of sharing pollen. They hold out their (3 cm long) hand, and shake it wildly in the air. ”Greetings. I am Doctor Urmfehrumah Newblossom. Who are you?”
"Maonva Mazak," she replies as she takes a seat and, on a whim, copies Urmfehrumah's greeting, though she can't do the pollen part of it. "So, is this how your people greet others," she asks.
They consider asking their list of questions about what it’s like to be a member of a dioecious species...but decide perhaps dioecious species don’t like to discuss themselves over meals and instead, between bites, asks ”Where are you from? What brings you here?”
Mao stops eating and ponders the question for a second. The truth was too dangerous, she decides, but she could sprinkle in parts of it. "I'm from here, never been off Station my whole life. I joined up because I thought it'd be a nice change of pace."
"I think they want us to resolve this a bit quicker than that, Urmzy," Mao says, using the nickname she'd given the good doctor after their first meeting.
"It's not evil per se. Most predators aren't; instead they are simply driven by instinct to hunt and kill."
Zigvigix sways slightly, augmentations emitting the occasional whine as they listen to the debate. "Even if it is not evil, it is very dangerous; and there is no reason to assume it will stay there forever. Still," their mandibles clack in a soothingly measured pattern, "it is good to consider all paths towards keeping the worlds safe."
"The record shop is closer, but do not worry, I have another new agent at the warehouse, an entropy dancer from Triaxus. They will contact you if the beast attempts to migrate.
"They would have gotten the album but they had some sort of allergy..."
***
The store is MOBBED.
The queues to even get inside spread out like some sort of demented octopus, undulating and pulsing with the sheer blissed out joy of sugar-pop as the eager fans blast their favorite Strawberry Machine Cake favorites either into personal sound systems that separate their audiosphere from their surroundings or out into the overlapping wall of sound!
This could take hours...
Before arriving at he record store, Carter would have the group stop and get some posters of Strawberry Machine Cake and then make signatures on them. Then he'll have the group get in line and will turn to Maonva and say in a normal tone of voice"Man, it was really nice that Strawberry Machine Cake to sign these posters for us. Thank god there wasn't a line. My daughter will be so happy I got this for her!"
He will then tell anyone who asks that she was signing things at the store they got the posters from.
While it's probably the last place any of her former colleagues would every look for her, Mao doesn't like the idea of being out in this crowded space for so long, nor is she sure her sanity can take it.
She sighs as she starts to think of who she could get a hold of to clear this crowd fast.
Then comes up with a plan that sounds dumb even in her head.
"So, we have a massive crowd blasting Sugar-pop garbage and a need to get in and out fast," she observes before looking around for the closest used band equipment store. "I think I know of a way to clear them out, but it's probably gonna get them chasing those of us baiting them. I'm thinking some trash talk and rust-side punk should do the trick."