"Agreed. Is anyone here a skilled hacker?"
"That's not what I meant, but good to know."
"I know my way around computers, but it sounds like we're going to need to find this hacker themself as well. That said--" Doc Newblossom turns to Odd Ball "--If we have a digital lead, I'm happy to start there."
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"Well, the digital lead has given us a location, but that's all for now, right?" the ysoki responds, his words practically sizzling with vocal fry.
Historia-7 nods at Odd Ball's assessment, and adds, "While of course much information is stored digitally, a Dataphile must be willing and able to pursue other means of acquiring important information." Odd Ball's grin at that last comment is nearly gleeful.
***
The loc-ping that Historia-7 provided you points to an apartment that possesses all the charm and whimsy of a cement cube, which it is, with several tomato plants in plastic barrels sitting on an otherwise barren porch. A young human man, dressed in loose-fitting cotton pants and little else is hand-pollinating the plants as you approach.
"I meant that if we had someone who knows the culture, that might be an in for us to potentially recruit them."
"Too upscale for me," Mao replies without elaborating further.
Mao also hangs back, feeling a little on edge. Everything here seems familiar to her, but it was all subtly wrong, too clean, too civilized
Yxov sees no one willing to go up to the person, so he puts on his most pleasing wavelength and steps up to him. "Hello, good day, and good gardening to you. Those are fine plants you have there. I hope they're bountiful. Say, you wouldn't happen to know this area, do you? I'm trying to find someone in these parts."
"Oh, uh, sure. My name's Jubair." He looks nervous, particularly of the many, many visible guns. "Who're you, uh, looking for?"
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Doc Newblossom smiles. "Hi Jubair. I'm Urmfehrumah. Something very valuable was stolen, and tracked to this residence. There are some very angry people who're on the trail of it. Fortunately for the person who took it, we can help protect them...if they're very honest with us right now."
Carter looked around the garden trying to see if he sees anything computer related.
"Don't be alarmed; we're very nice," Yxov assures him.
"We're happy to help. Maybe we should come in with you and speak to your jida? I'm sure we can get everything straightened out."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I mean, if someone angry's comin', won't hurt to have some tough lookin' customers to help even things out, yeah?"
Jubair is looking very uncertain about the heavily armed strangers coming into his flat, when a tremulous voice calls out "Jubair? What's all that ruckus?"
A wizened woman in a blue and white abaya emerges from the flat, looking at you all with surprise, but not much in the way of confusion... Jubair explains what you've said, and in an oddly uncertain voice she replies, "I don't have any idea what you're talking about either... Would you like to come in for a cup of tea to sort things out?"
"That would be lovely ma'am."
Mao decides to let the more diplomatically minded handle this. She'd wait until the big guns were needed.
Inside the floor of the flat is cluttered with boxes of nutrient broth, gardening tools and various culturual knicknacks to the point that there's not really room for most of you to sit - especially Acoria! Nonetheless, the old woman, "Ceren" as she introduced herself quickly bustles around and provides everyone with a ceramic mugs of very strong, black tea. "It's very bitter, you'll want a few packets of sucra in there if you're not used to it."
"So. What is it that's meant to have been stolen?"
"It's complicated, but someone went into the infosphere and took something that alot of people are looking for. We are Starfinders, and we want to make sure that the person who took the information is safe, as one of our leaders is interested in the techniques they used to take this data."
"Ultimately, they'll likely be offered a job, if they're willing and earnest."
Carter drinks from the mug straight and says "This is good and strong tea. Did you grind and brew it yourself?"
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"It's loose-leaf, no grinding necessary. I grow it in my plot at the co-op in Jatembe park. Some plants can't really thrive on your stoop."
As she chatters about tea a slight whirring emits from the augment at her temple, and a surprised look comes over her face as it stops.
"Ah, well. It seems I may have your data after all, though I'll confess I'm uncertain as to the details. I don't have any particular need for the data, so if you're offering safety for myself and Jubair, I'm in. Looks like it's time to fake my death again."
Odd Ball's eyes gleam with delighted surprise at her statement."I'm so glad this wasn't just a hack-job."
Yxov accepts one of the mugs gratefully. "I love the biologicals' practice of sharing flavored liquids," he says and takes a sip. He doesn't mention Voxy's preference is the ethanol-based liquids.
His light dims briefly in a passing imitation of a blink. "Wait. Did you say fake your death? Again? Is this a common occurrence?"
"Not for quite a while, but in my youth, well... it was a different time."
Jubair goggles at his grandmother, "Jida! Are you serious!? You want me to- to fake my death?!"
"No, no of course not. But if these fine people tracked me down, then some sort of CorpSec won't be far after with either charges to file, or maybe worse if they'd rather none of this goes public.
"But you only have to worry about a wetworks team, and if they believe I'm dead, you won't be worth the expense, especially if you can bunk at the Lorespire for a few months."
"As I had said, if you earnestly willing to work with the society, we should be able to protect you. Gather what you need to gather, and we'll help carry anything that you need help with."
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"Jubair should be quite enough to help pack us up," Ceren explains, "But if this is going to work, then there's legwork to be done that shouldn't have my face attached to it. The two keys of a properly faked death are a convincing death report, probably with a body attached, and a new life. It probably shouldn't be too obviously connected to your Society for now - that's an awfully good way to give AbadarCorp leverage on everyone involved."
Odd Ball's whiskers twitch in agreement. "So first thing's first I guess. Anyone have a spare cadaver? Or a mortician who owes them a favor?"
"I am all out of dead bodies." Carter says, patting himself for effect.
"We don't know much about coming up with bodies, but we know plenty of ways a body could get mangled, maimed, cooked, irradiated, or outright disintegrated, if all we can come up with is some meat."
Doc Newblossom scratches their neck petals curiously, noting that Ceren"s Med-Grade Datajack likely indicated a fix for some kind of brain damage.
Hmm, I don't recall reading any data crystals specifically about faking corpses...but what could I apply in a novel way?
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Doc Newblossom is pretty sure that with access to a body, they could alter it to match Ceren's biometric records.
"I know a garden downspike that sometimes uses unorthodox fertilizer. Nothing... technically illegal," Odd Ball quietly croaks, "Probably we could find a close enough match for something to reprocess. I've got a cousin who works with them, so I could probably swing it at cost, maybe fifty - a hundred credits?"
"ID'ing a Jane Doe might work too, if you think we can fool a coroner."
"I knew some people, but going to them would, ah, be a bad idea," Mao says, looking about nervously.
"Let's go with Oddball's idea then. Is it possible to have them deliver?"
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"Sand's falling, let's go."
***
The Downlow is a relatively nice district of the Spike; it's easily accessible by lift, and the gang that runs protection for it, the Downside Kings by the tags, seems to have enough of a rep that no one is currently interested in disputing their claim. The Vat Garden is a bit off the beaten path of the many Spike-chique tourist traps for Eye-dwellers who crave just a bit of danger in their excursions pawn shops, closer to the loan sharks, Kuthite sensation houses, and hot pots that serve the locals.
The station passageways open into an enormous sunken pool filled with a riotous growth of plants. A narrow walkway leading to other parts of Downlow encircles the overgrown vat, and a spire of some kind of machinery stands in its center. A clutch of ysoki scamper up and down the ladders into the verdant tank, bringing out assorted fruits and veggies that quickly trade hands with haggling customers.
As he gets closer Odd Ball's eyes glow with a faint light and he starts muttering quietly to himself; the action is mirrored by one of the veg-runners who stops in surprise as her own mouth whispers a message to her!
"Zlata'll meet us over in that access tube to talk specs."
***
A couple minutes later the veg-runner approaches. In a piping voice Zlata cuts off any greetings or things she couldn't later deny under a Zone of Truth. "First things first. We are not a licensed source for necromantic components, got it? There are a lot of legal reasons why a body might be disposed of. There are legal ways to be necromantically disposed of, but we aren't one of them. So, what do you need for non-necromantic purposes?"
Mao wisely keeps her head down. She didn't think Acoria would appreciate her trying not to howl with laughter that particular bit of cheese. Unfortunately, she can't keep from shaking with the effort.
"Specifically, we require 1 medium sized female corpse to be specifically delivered to a specific address, as we lack the means to transport said corpse. What are you rates?"
Yxov stays quiet during this exchange. The concept of bodies that lingered after death and decayed into moist soil-enriching heaps was rather squicky to the coherent energy being.
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Odd Ball and Zlata briefly confer in a series of squeaks and chitters-
"Not that kind of job. Wholesale if you can."
"Ugh, fine. But you owe me one."
-before Zlata turns to the rest of you with an offer. "50 for the body, delivery's 10 extra"
"You are too kind, Zlata," Mao says before slipping five credits into his paw.
"I would hate for us to seem ungrateful, and we can't very well have our guide going into debt. How much of a favor would this be," Mao asks.