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"I just had the pleasure of a tour of the Veskarium. I'd say 'dubious pleasure,' but honestly, I myself didn't have much to complain about. S'pose they wouldn't advertise the rest as strongly, though."
Benacu corroborates most of the information Speaker for the Dead dredges up. "It seemed boring before, but I've started paying more attention to cults lately. Ever since some weirdos tried inducting into one based around some awful sea monster god on assignment."
As the Dapper Coatl exits the Drift above Vesk Prime, the viewscreens display a view of the planet below, alive with deep-blue oceans, verdant green forests, and the rusty bronze of sprawling deserts.
As the ship descends through a partially cloudy sky, the magnitude of the city below becomes apparent. Elongated avenues intersecting at precise angles cut through the city, passing by colossal monuments and expansive amphitheaters and parks, all leading inward to the center. At the very heart of the city is the imposing pyramid of Command Prime, a domineering structure that the city took its name from. The shuttle pilot relays the requisite codes necessary to clear the shuttle for landing at the private landing dock that is used only for official Command Prime business. As your group disembarks, a small contingent of Veskarium security officers greets them. The leader of the unit briskly walks forward, hand on his pistol, "You people, what is your business on Command Prime!?" he asks very pointedly - you can already tell he has no intention of NOT being obstructionist.
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"If you're too busy at this port, no worries," Benacu adds, looking around at the otherwise dormant dock. "No doubt we'll find some way to worm our way in. Just gotta...there, a picture of your nice badge, in case we have to explain our delay." The kalo is pretty sure that isn't how vesk bureaucracy works, but maybe?
He glowers a bit but seems to accept the words of a fellow vesk. Once your bona fides are confirmed he grunts with annoyance and quietly engages his comlink to arrange clearance for you to enter.
The security officers form ranks and escort your team from the dock to the base of the pyramid. As you enter Command Prime, the vesk officers escort you through twisting halls that seem to double back, with switchbacks and corridors that seem to lead to nowhere.
You recognize that the whole fortress has been designed to withstand a siege, with chokepoints to intercept attackers and repel invaders.
As the hallways lead farther inside the structure, the temperature rises to an almost uncomfortable level for most warm-blooded creatures. Your escorts explain that this deep within Command Prime, and with no sunlight to warm themselves, they keep the temperature warm to prevent lethargy and laziness.
Finally, you arrive at a short side corridor that leads towards a single door. As you approach, the temperature drops precipitously. With slight
hesitation and winces on their faces, your escorts knock on the
door. A booming voice from the other side bids entry.
The door opens on a sprawling office whose hominess belies the frigid temperature. A purple-furred creature with six arms, a skittermander, rushes out, adeptly balancing a serving tray. Inside, a desk of rich mahogany sits upon a large bearskin rug, and a well-used reading chair sits beside the sole window that allows in feeble light. A vesk with a uniformly dark-green hide towers behind the desk. On one side of his face, the skin on his prominent jawbone is partly missing, revealing a tangle of bone, muscles, and ligaments fitted with mechanical augmentations.
“Friends, welcome.” The vesk smiles. “Your Venture-Captain Naiaj informed me of your imminent arrival here on Command Prime. I am so tickled that our first official communique from the Starfinders came from her, and not from that showboat, Radaszam.” Sneering, he shuffles a few papers on his desk. “We know all about these Keepers in the Veskarium. Their beliefs are an affront to the vesk way of life. They are dishonorable and bring shame to us as their exploits have now reached beyond our system. I have a few potential leads for you, hopefully you can take care of this nuisance. I have more important things to worry about now than some trinket the Starfinders lost, so I can’t offer you aide or an escort at this time. Check in with me once you have completed an investigation into these scraps of information I have for you.”
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Strax pulls out a diagnostic instrument. If you don't mind me asking sir, what happened to cause that injury. And before you ask, I used to be with the VMC - the Vesk Medical Corps
Indeed he is wearing the appropriate insignias on his uniform, along with the Pact World ones.
And what leads do you have for us?
"Good to know you have some divine top cover"
He points to his face "Oh, this? Didn’t clear a starship
landing pad quickly enough. My old bones don’t carry me as fast
as they once did.”
“I have a skittermander contact at our bureaucratic headquarters that might have information for you. There is also a freelance merchant named Kandurasko in the market you might want to chat with. I’d recommend you speak with a few of my colleagues, one from another military division and the other from the office that deals with non-vesk. Like you, we’ve had some trinkets taken from the Museum of Conquest. The curator there may have insight. Finally, I have a potential operative you may speak with, though I am unsure what they will tell you, if anything. Of these, you should only need to complete a few before we can uncover where the Keepers are hiding.”
Paxel gestures to the large painting behind desk. Featuring an ornate gilded frame, the canvas displays a triumphant vesk in full battle armor standing on a pile of insectile heads. The victor holds a fiery doshko overhead in victory. “Do you like my painting? It is on loan to me from the Museum of Conquest. It reminds me that we beat the Swarm before and that we can beat it again, should the need arise.” Paxel grunts in smug determination. “I recommend you speak with the curator who suggested this painting for my office. According to an interdepartmental memo from a few days ago, it seems that some Gap-related trinkets have also gone missing from the museum. Their disappearance may be related to those Keeper intrusions you also experienced.”
Paxel laughs boisterously - "Ha! A comment well made, Naiaj was right to send you, you'll go far"
Paxel directs you to the Museum of Conquest, a bombastic and imposing building in Command Prime that’s filled with exhibits that celebrate Veskarium victories throughout Near Space and educate visitors about the triumphs of vesk conquest.
When you arrive at the museum, a robotic guide notified by Paxel awaits you and guides you to the curator. The curator, a knobby old vesk with dull scales, greets you with dismay.
“Oh my, oh my. Hello, I am Dr. Zekuza. I have just received word that you want to know more about the curios that were recently stolen from the museum. I’m hoping you can help me with finding them. Please, come with me and I’ll show you.” The old vesk walks down avenue-like corridors, passing several exhibits in the museum’s main building. “I wish I could give you a proper tour, but there’s just no time. I’m especially enamored of our new expanded exhibit on the Iron Doshko, the magnificent five bladed doshko supposedly wielded by Eshovok, the first imperial Emperor of the Veskarium.” The curator reaches the back of the museum and exits onto a small terrace. Pathways lead from the terrace to smaller satellite museums. “I do love these smaller museums. They house our more localized exhibits and antiquities from other worlds. Oh, except that one, that one’s not open yet.” Dr. Zekuza gestures to a distant structure, where a banner reading ‘PACT WORLDS—CONSTRUCTION POSTPONED’ covers the previously engraved name of the building. “Ahh! We’ve arrived at security! They can tell you what happened.”
Dr. Zekuza ushers you into a small outbuilding that houses the museum’s security department. Inside the main security office, only one guard is on duty, sitting at a desk with a computer terminal. The guard, (Her nametag reads 'Jaihaana') seems to have a sullen expression as she watches a show on a handheld entertainment device. The show features an energetic space goblin who gives dubious medical advice in a loud, screeching voice. There is a brief conversation between Dr. Zekuza and the guard, who simply refuses to hand over footage or a printout of the stolen items, citing protocols and lack of approval to do so.
The guard seeems to shrug unhelpfully at the comments. In response to Murgatroyds question, the guard turns the volume up "Trying to anyway" and adjusts their chair a bit to continue being unhelpful.
SFTD recognizes the show as 'Dr. Meffid'. And yes, the advice is terrible - quackery, pseudo-science, and what is clearly financially motivated pushing of 'wellness' products.
Gulkyn manages to at least get some traction with the mostly intransigent guard who grudgingly runs some file footage of the night of the thefts.
The footage shows an Itjikri helping itself to items in one of the historic display areas, and stowing them in a backpack. It moves towards the exit then appears to cast a spell and vanish. Moments later the exit seems to open by itself and close again.
***
"I've never seen that person before" the Dr scratches their head "Security is normally adequate, as most people aren't foolish enough to commit crimes in the Veskarium"
The identified items stolen all seem to have one thing in common, they predate the gap.
The guard just continues being sullen.
***
You return to Paxel "So, what news? What new leads?"
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"We can try to identify the ijtikri in some database, examine the scene of the crime for clues left behind by the criminal, or try and discover if there is a bigger evil pulling his strings to collect such unique objects." suggests Murgatroyd, versed in crime-fighting (and indirectly suggesting that the group could try to track down a buyer).
"Track down one of the other contacts perhaps? See who knows what"
As if remembering something, Paxel stands and walks over to the window. Picking up a cup of steaming tea, he inhales deeply, savoring the rich smells of the hot beverage. “Spicy foods and fragrant tea are some of the few things I can enjoy these days. Every afternoon, that purple menace brings me a cup.” Taking a small sip, he sighs and replaces the cup on the tray. “The skittermanders, you should probably check with them. I have to admit, they are exceptionally good with paperwork, which makes my job both easier and harder, especially when it comes to tracking down the Hidden Hand. Anyway, we run a tight ship here at Command Prime. No one can import anything without the seeming of proper clearance. These Keepers might have attempted to legitimize your trinket by getting official transport papers from Import and Export Control. Their office is located in one of the dozen or so buildings that surround the main spaceport; I’d go check with them.”
You follow Paxel’s directions to the offices of Import and Export Control for Command Prime. The building looks entirely nondescript from the outside, with only a small sign indicating the building’s purpose. Inside, you are greeted by an office packed with skittermanders in a wide array of hues and shades, all bustling about and chattering to each other in a constant hum of purposeful activity. A night-blue skittermander behind the main desk welcomes you with a broad, toothy smile. When you approach, you see a small name tag pinned neatly on her crisp uniform: Tonkona—General Assistance. “Greetings, visitors!” the skittermander behind the desk chirps. “My name is Tonkona and it will be my pleasure to assist you today. Can I ask what purpose brings you to Import and Export Control today?”
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Strax decides, by being a Vesk, he might be able to make the skitters more ... co-operative.
Yes. We are looking for records on an .... artifact that would have arrived here on ..... He then gives over the details. The DDO would like this request expedited as soon as possible.
to make the order convincing
to grease the bureaucratic wheels
The combined polite yet serious approach with the specific detail raised sees the paperwork progress relatively smoothly, with the skittermander only causing some frustration in their over-enthusiasm about forms.
"Itjikri? Well we don't have anything about a relic, but an Itjikri has been at the station import/exports trying to source a few genuine Bamford Tools diamond drills, guaranteed to put a hole in anything, as well as mining explosives, and a barrel of acid - they sure want to destroy something"
You get video footage - it is the same Itjikri, but all the name and address details on the forms have been wildly fabricated.