While on your off time in Absolom station, you get a message on your com links that you have a mission briefing with the host Shirren Chiskisk first thing in the morning.
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Von Junzt picks up his comm unit and reads the message. “About time… it’s been… quite a while…” he practices a snarl on the mirror and casts Charming Veneer as he heads out, replenishing the spell every 10 minutes.
He’s the first one in the waiting room, picking a seat where he can observe new arrivals. Once someone shows up, he’ll stand up and shake appendages. “Hello…”.
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When the com signal comes in. Seven of Eleven's eyes light up, activating the android from it's powered down cycle. The android examines it's gear to make sure everything is in working order.
The next morning Seven heads out to the meeting place. Seeing others already have arrived.
"Greetings, this unit's designation is Seven of Eleven. Do any of you go by the designation of Shirren Chiskisk? This unit has been requested to this place at this time for a new mission by the one know as Shirren Chiskisk."
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A somewhat absent-minded shirren slips out of the noisy and congratulatory scrum following their last class and flips open their comm unit. As they read the message, their antennae freeze in shock. There must be some mistake! I haven't even gone through my Commencement yet! But the message is clear: "Congratulations, Talltree! You have been selected by Chiskisk for a mission! Please report to the Lorespire Complex at 0800 hours S-time. Bring your usual mission kit." Usual mission kit? What does that mean? I'll have to check my notes from that course....
On arriving at the meeting, Talltree keeps to the back of the group and says nothing, head twitching back and forth nervously. They wear second skin armor new enough that the creases still show, and carry a pack of similarly recent vintage.
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A well-dressed witchwyrd enters the room flanked by a skittermander covered in face-paint and grease and a goblin with slicked-back hair and a tailored suit.
"My presence, too, has been requested." announces the witchwyrd. 'Though what I, a simple merchant, could offer to the Society beyond a few fine baubles and trinkets is beyond my ability to say."
The witchwyrd eyes the assembled Starfinders, then turns his focus on the kasatha. He reaches out one of his many hands in greeting.
"The name is Morvruul." he declares. "And you must be..." Morvruul pauses for a moment, then bends down as the goblin who glances at a datapad before whispering into what is most likely the witchwyrd's ear. "Kaath Novaflame? Correct?"
The door to the well-appointed conference room opens, and Chiskisk, a member of the Starfinder Society’s Forum, enters, their antennae bobbing rhythmically as they move to take a seat at the head of the table.
“Welcome, colleagues. As you know, the Starfinder Society has been quite efficacious of late. The acts of brave agents like yourselves has made the Society once-again respected and known throughout Near Space and even in some areas of the Vast. We have been quick to capitalize on these new opportunities. Recently, the Society has reached out to nearly a dozen new civilizations with which we have mutual interests. At this moment, the Lorespire Complex is brimming with ambassadors, dignitaries, and probably also spies from many worlds.
“I had the honor to conclude preliminary negotiations with one such ambassador. They are about to sign an exclusive exploration and trade treaty with the Starfinder Society, largely based on our recent exploits. However…” the shirren pauses awkwardly, then moves to an expansive window that overlooks the Lorespire campus.
“The delegate has requested a recess in negotiations to explore Absalom Station before signing the agreement. Of course, I granted them freedom of the station, as long as they accepted an escort of local Starfinder agents to see to their every need.”
The shirren turns back to face the conference table. “That ‘escort,’ of course, would be you!”
Chiskisk slides a data disk across the table. “Here is the dossier on the visiting dignitary you’ll be escorting. Find out what they’re interested in seeing, and take them there. Be gracious hosts, entertaining tour guides, bodyguards, or social planners, as the dignitary requires. It should go without saying that this emissary’s safety and security are paramount, as is their continued goodwill toward the Society. If you do a good job, we might just secure the opportunity to explore a new wolrd." He also slides a credstick across the table. "And here is a credstick for any sundry funds you may need to pay to keep this delegate happy today. An accountant will be going over your expenses with a fine-tooth comb, and any, shall we say, questionable payments will be coming out of your pay. Don't make me regret this. Any questions?”
Chiskisk shoulders his arms as if shrugging and then points to a data drive on the table near Von. When Von enters the disk into the drive a hologram comes up with an ID and a basic description. There is a picture and a small dossier.
Species: Nuar, similar to but distinct from the legendary race of minotaurs of lost Golarion.
Formal Title: Indagator veritatis Beauregard Truthpelt Pronouns: He/him
Indagator veritatis Beauregard Truthpelt is here on behalf of the colony of New Labyrinthia, the first major settlement of nuar discovered by the Pact Worlds beyond Absalom Station. New Labyrinthia is located in a complex maze tunneled beneath the surface of an unnamed (by the Pact Worlds) asteroid in an asteroid belt in Near Space. New Labyrinthia has been home to several hundred nuar since before the Gap, and this meeting represents first contact. Indagator veritatis Beauregard Truthpelt is something of an enigma compared to the Nuar on Absalom Station, he seems to love engaging in quiet contemplation and spirited discussion in equal measure. His occupation, Indagator veritatis, has no direct translation, but the closest analog is 'detective.' Why he was chosen for this task as ambassador is unknown.
Chiskisk turns to Korl. "Sadly, the Nuar pulled their previous ambassador, one Representative Tradok at the last minute and replaced him with the Indagator Veritatis. The only reason given was something about Tradok performing actions 'unbecoming of an ambassador.' Because of this last minute switch, we don't have much information about this . . . Truthpelt.
I suspect he has his own personality quirks and way of doing things. I expect you to try and figure out what they are and accommodate him."
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There is a picture and a small dossier.
"He looks... a bit... sketchy." Von Junzt points out. "We shall... be careful..."
"That was my thinking too. Look, I know this isn't as exciting as cosmic exploration or adventuring through ancient tombs, but this is important to society. Thanks for taking on this mission."
"Any other questions?"
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Scanning the information that he received.
"How much amnesty is afforded to the unit Indagator veritatis Beauregard Truthpelt? If it his desire to break station rules do we allow the unit to do so? What form of action are we allowed to intercede? Is use of force upon the Indagator veritatis Beauregard Truthpelt unit acceptable?"
"Please don't attack Indagator Veritatis Truthpelt unless something drastic happens! We're trying to open up a trade deal with his colony." Chiskisk comments startled. "The ambassador has some diplomatic immunity but let's try not to get him into a position where he needs to use it. From what I understand he is a reasonable man."
Chiskisk turns to Morvruul. "We don't know, at the very least they should have star charts of that section of space that are more accurate than ours. And from what I've heard from his people they have access to some valuable resources. Not to mention working with them could open up new lines of xeno-achaeological research."
They then turn to Korl. "He has a suite in a nearby hotel. The address is on the data disk. Please, just, show him a good time, try to keep him happy, and try to stay out of trouble."
Finding the Indagator' Veritatis's hotel suite is easy enough. As you open the door you are greeted with Some strange music being played and a Nuar in a trench coat reclining in a chair, smoking a cigar as if lost in thought. When he sees you he pulls out his datapad and hits pause on the music, then puts out his cigar before hoisting himself out of his chair.
"Beauregard Truthpelt. I ashume you are the shtarfindersh shent to usher me around thish cockamamie shtation?"
He holds out his hand to shake.
"Please, just call me Beauregard." he responds.
Beauregard tilts his head at Novaflame
"Allllllright . . .". He slowly shakes one of your hands, not sure what to make of you.
Beauregard shakes Talltree's hand.
"Good to meetcha. Archaeologisht huh?" he rubs his chin. "You like learning about other people'sh culturesh? Well, the elders back home did say to do a cultural exchange. Hmmm . . . I've heard there'sh a plashe here on the shtation where people can do playsh and shinging and shtuff. The uh, Hamishfore Theatorium? Anyways, my people have a tradition called a 'Enigma Talesh.' Shomeone gets up on shtage and tellsh the story of a crime, and the people in the audience call questionsh and ashk for cluesh until they guessh who the culprit is. Doing one here would be a good way to shee if you Absholomersh care about truth and justice."
"Likewise" replies Truthpelt. "Yknow, you sheem like a good short. Maybe we . . . I mean all of us, should end our outing today with a drink? I hear the shtations got shome nishe, quite nightlife."
In response to Korl Beauregard hesitates for a moment and then says, ”Well, shee, our shipsh back home are a bit outdated.” Beauregard replies. ”I promished one of our ship guysh I’d get shome picturesh of shome shtarshipsh around the area. Maybe give him shome inshpiration. I’ve already rented a tour ship to take me. . . I guessh ush, around the flotilla outside the station. She leavesh at 1:00 PM”
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"Beauregard Truthpelt. I ashume you are the shtarfindersh shent to usher me around thish cockamamie shtation?"
"It is pronounced 'Absalom' Station, actually." Morvruul attempts to correct with a smug arrogance. Still, the witchwyrd is clearly still sore from having heard that the dignitary's homeworld is unlikely to provide access to any new technologies.
"As for me, Beauregard, I am Morvruul. A simple merchant here on the station. I am happy to show you the more... mundane and uninteresting places around here. Unfortunately, I know so little about the theater, night life, or space tourism since such things are beyond what a simple merchant--such as myself--would know."
Morvruul begins contemplating the possibilities.
"Isn't that right, Drouff?" Morvruul says to the well-dressed goblin.
"That's right, boss." Drouff replies. "You don't know nuthin'."
The witchwyrd glares momentarily at the goblin, then smiles with his eyes.
”Nice to meet you Morvruul. Shay, could you guysh help me with shomthing? We don’t get too many pact world trid shows out where we are. I wash hoping to get the boxshed shetsh of a few showsh to bring to the little onesh back home.”
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Looking up from his data pad to find out what music was being played and the cigar that he was smoking was. And if anything like those are present on the station.
Seven looks up to the bull creature.
"Greeting this unit is goes by the designation of Seven of Eleven. We have been given the assignment of showing you a good time as long as it does not violate station rules."
Looking the big man up and down. "Our data is incomplete with your species as we go about showing you a good time, to what ever that entails would you be open to discussing your culture and customs of your world?"
Dataphiles Champion (Faction Boon):
Abysshead Download (Slotless Boon):
Star Monster Slayer (Starship Boon):
Diabolical Hitchhiker (Ally)
It takes a moment for the Nuar to parse what the Android has said, but when he does, he gets a bit angry. ”Hey, let’sh get shomeshing shtraight. I like MY shtuff and MY shtuff only. We Nuar are jusht ash diversh ash anyone elsh.”
The Nuar rubs his chin in response to Kaath’s question. ”I mean, it isn’t deshided I’d shay. We aren’t on shome short of coshmic timetable. But ya can’t vishit the nightlife during the day, and the tour isn’t until 1:00. And the Hamishfore Theatorium will probably take the mosht amount of time to shet up, sho maybe we shtart there?”
1)The theatorium is owned by an eccentric gnome named Jebodah Hamisfore. Her theatorium is a real marvel of engineering. Seats can be reconfigured allowing them to fold into stands or tables or to accommodate a music pit or not. Jebodah is always on the lookout for new talent and is often willing to give amateurs and unproven performers an even shot
2)Tours of the Armada are fairly common, and can run from cheap, automated tours with no snacks and loose safety standards (at around 200 credits per group of up to ten) to upper end luxury cruises with a meal and a real, live attendant, and good safety standards at about 800 credits per group.
3)You know of a music hall known for quiet jazz and hushed conversations that serves some good drinks. It’s a bit high-end so it usually isn’t too crowded.
Talltree gets ahold of the propriator of the Theatorium, one Jebodah Hamisfore, rather easily. After you explain what's going on, she's excited about the prospect of a new person performing, but seeing as it is an interactive piece and he'll be leaving in a few days, she's not sure how useful it'll be. You can try to convince her to let Beauregard to perform anyway and record it for posterity at least with a diplomacy check.
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"Jebodah Hamisfore," says Morvruul, approaching the gnome. "My name is Morvruul and I am here on behalf of the Starfinder Society. I understand that you are always on the lookout for new talent, offering even amateurs and unproven performers a shot at performing at your fine, reconfigurable theater. But, what if we were to offer you the opportunity to host the station-wide premier of a performer that is about to take the social scene by storm?"
You are easily able to convince the Gnome to try out your act and within minutes you are in a spacetaxi headed off to the theatorium. When you land you see a female gnome with bicolored pink and purple hair waiting to greet you when you land. She rushes up and after confirming who you are begins excitedly speaking and gesturing.
“Welcome, right this way,” the spry gnome ushers the group through a set of doors and into a large round theatre with plush seats. On the stage, a troupe of masked actors look up in surprise as guests enter during their rehearsal. “Not now, you lot,” Jebodah cries to the actors, waving his hands dismissively. “Out! Out! I have something NEW here!”
As the actors file out the stage door, Jebodah moves to a large booth containing a series of levers and dials. He waves into the booth and begins to pull levers and flip switches. With a whir of machinery the entire room begins to reconfigure itself. The seats retract into slots in the floor, and the stage folds up and slides into the wall. A series of stadium-like bleachers extrudes from the corners, slowly building up seating for several hundred people. The floor seems to grow a carpet of thick padding as the room finishes its rearrangement into an arena-like space.
“Now,” he continues, addressing the dignitary. “Just what sort of art did you wish to demonstrate? I assure you, if you impress me, I can launch your career in show business!”
At this the dignatary repeats the idea behind the enigma tales and the gnome seems suspect but is ready to try. She makes a few calls as Beauregard gets ready, and within half an hour of your first meeting you find yourself in the front row waiting for Beauregard to start, along with several 'test fans' (Jebodah's friends) to gauge their reaction. Beauregard explains the enigma tales a third time (remember, they require audience participation to find the culprit of the story) for the benefit of the test fans, but you are immediately put on edge when you see that the test fans obviously either don't care or are hesitant to engage with Beauregard.
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"Ahem, I was just practicing something that I might say if we were to take our distinguished guest to a theater of which I have heard, one owned by Jebodah Hamisfore/" Morvruul notes after reciting loudly to himself on the street even as his allies made calls on their comms.
"I suppose that none of you are as cultured as I and, thus, would have no idea to whom I am referring. However, I suppose I could make introductions, if necessary." he suggests.
Upon arriving at said theater after following his fellow agents, Morvruul has nothing else to say.
"I overheard that this performance is a type of nuanced nuar artform called 'revenuar', in which those members of the audience that ask questions are rewarded with a sizable sum as a form of financial remuneration." Morvruul whispers quietly to one of the rubes fans in the audience.
Then, he turns to another member of the audience, one enjoying a snack, and asks, "Are you going to finish that?"
Finally, during the performance, he rises to his feet, raises multiple hands, and then inquires aloud of Beauregard, "But, could the reference to the fish not be some sort of red herring?"