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...
"Funny ship ya got here." Harlan runs a mitted hand over the exterior of the high-class drift drive "For gettin' places fast and quiet, I'd guess. Odd ship for a rescue mission. Not a lot a' space." He goes for a cigar and lights up, not caring that it'll probably overwork the scrubbers in such a small space "We rescuing a pile of squoxes or something?"
"I don't know what you're rescuing. I'm just the ferry driver."
...
”And quite nondescript from the outside as well. This should prove to be an interesting mission,” observes Zephyr, ”Though it will be odd for me not to be the one piloting the craft.””Selah, I am Zephyr. Thanks for the acceleration warning plan. Anything you need us to do here while we wait?” offers the android.
"No doubt you'll get your own ship again soon enough, Zephyr."
"Not much to do. You two know your way around a ship. Just stay close to handholds and clear of the fiddly bits. Andromedae's not built with a lot of safeguards. After we drop station stay really close to the handholds for about 20 minutes til I can clear the shipping lanes. Once we're interplanetary, we'll have a day or less in the Drift before our first stop. "
Selah kicks and climbs his way to the upper deck.
Piloting DC 14, Culture DC 16
[/dice]
"'Aight. I got no problem with kicking my feet up and enjoyin' the ride. You just tell me when there's something that needs smashing, or if the reactor's going critical." Harlan slings up a lightweight hammock from his pack and swings himself in (after a couple of tries).
"Works for me too," says the android. Zephyr finds a secure location to stow his powered armor and exits it, searching out a good place to grab onto the handholds once they get underway.
He also looks for what might pass as a ship's weapon, even if it is only a salvage arm or welding hard point. If that fails, he ends up just getting situated where he can see through a viewport.
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Harlan's hammock proves comfy because it gimbals with the changing thrust vector of the ship.
Andromedae has a light laser cannon in a turret and a flak thrower mounted between the aft thrusters.
A few hours into the trip, Selah Sci seeks out Zephyr alone by his viewport. "Zephyr, Z-4. You have a big reputation inside the Starfinders, but where are you from? What is your history?"
Your lanky verthani waiter returns a couple times over the next hour to check on you. On this trip they lay a shallow basket on a table. "Complimentary crispchips, my good sirs. Synthesized to our chef's specific requirements and fried in oils derived from local plants.
If you'll permit a question in general terms, the staff is curious. You're quiet. Your orders have been modest, not what we'd expect from clients who afford a private room of this size for only two. Are you mercenaries? Corporate agents? Assassins? "
The rocking of the hammock while the ship changes directions is enough to send Harlan to sleep. He drools profusely.
Unused to someone taking an interest in his life, Zephyr responds, “I cut my teeth learning to fly while skirting the accreation disc at Alluvion. I’ve done some piloting for the Starfinders since—whether inside a starship or powered armor.”
Gesturing at the stowed powered armor he entered the ship wearing/piloting, Zephyr asks, ”But I am unaware of any reputation I have within the society other than as a warrior who gets the job done. Picking up on social cues such as reputation or conversational nuance is not my forte. Tell me, how am I known within the ranks?”
"Vidgame?" Lockets asks Faelyn, resting his elbow on the end of the rectangular box protruding above the chair's arm. "Not exactly." The pahtra carefully cracks the lid open, revealing a glimpse of a disassembled rifle within.
"Not a kid, no," Locket replies to Faelyn, latching the case closed. "My friend's education was through.. less academic... paths," he continues, tracing a finger over the letter "G" on the box.
Locket snorts at Faelyn's "Master of the Box" comment. "I like that," he replies with a half-smile. "Will have to remember that one."
"I know very little. Travel here - unofficially - and wait for others and further instructions." He shrugs. "We're at the right place, though."
Locket nods to the verthani waiter and accepts the offered refreshments with thanks.
"Nothing so exciting as all that," Locket replies to the man's questions. "I'm a student of the martial arts and philosophy." Gesturing to his plain attire, he adds with a small smile, "I'm a simple pahtra with modest needs."
"We are expecting friends. They should be here sometime soon."
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"A warrior who gets the job done? I suppose that is accurate. It is the train of jobs that you have gotten done that engenders your reputation. Rumors cloud the reality, but it is an open secret inside the Society that your team has been Elsebo's favorite, tasked with the jobs that enabled the return to the Scoured Stars. And most recently no crew did more than yours to secure the recover of the trapped Starfinders. Along the way, your team members have changed; you are the sole component of the original team still in active duty. Harlan, for example, is an excellent agent, but even his admittedly heroic efforts beside you in the Scoured Stars can not limn him in the same light as you.
Have you ever considered what you can do with that kind of social capital? Or enlisting in the cause of the Android Abolitionist Front?"
...
About 12 hours later you drop out of the Drift into an orbit approaching Verces. Selah Sci guides the ship neatly into connection with Skydock and gravity reorients again. She moves gracefully through the awkwardly oriented ship-spaces to the airlock.
"Picking up two more passengers. Wait here. We shouldn't be long. "
The waiter nods to Locket with a slight wink. "Yes, sir. A simple pahtra. The staff will be disappointed that it is nothing more exciting."
A drink and a half later, the door opens and a slight android in a voluminous brown cloak enters. You can see shiny black boots and the hems of a shiny black body suit around the edges of the cloak. "Mr. Harsk sent me to collect you for the next leg of your journey. Please give me your names."
Culture DC 17
Once you have done so accurately, and the android will leave you here rather than accept no, or a false answer, the android says, "Thank you. Please follow me."
They lead you to a docking port off the main concourse. Based on the close spacing between port airlocks, the ship you'll be flying in is quite small.
Starting to understand a bit why the pilot might be chatting him up, Zephyr responds carefully, ”I know a little about that movement, and of course I am favor of rescuing sentients from slavery, but I am no great scientist or political activist who understands the nuances of such an organization.”
Harlan wakes a couple hours before arrival, well rested. He eventually makes his way over to where Zephyr and the ship's "captain" are chatting "Makin' friends are we? Private android talk, eh? That's right 'bout fine by me. Seems we'll be waitin' longer for that action, if we're picking up more passengers."
He crosses his arms when the two newcomers arrive, sizing them up.
”Complimentary crispchips, my good sirs. Synthesized to our chef's specific requirements and fried in oils derived from local plants. If you'll permit a question in general terms, the staff is curious. You're quiet. Your orders have been modest, not what we'd expect from clients who afford a private room of this size for only two. Are you mercenaries? Corporate agents? Assassins?”
Nym bursts from his chair and happily accepts the crispchips.
“Fresh food! Thank the stars! I was on the edge of chewing the seat cushions.”
At the waiter’s question, he gives Locket a side glance topped with a waggled eyebrow. Every part of the expression says and now the fun begins.
“Assassin is such a harsh word, don't you think? My counterpart and I prefer… ah… mitigation specialists. Yes, far more nuanced than assassin. We perform all kinds of acts — some more public than others. We reduce the seriousness of issues and bring matters to an acceptable conclusion… followed, if I do my job well, by hearty tips and occasionally a complimentary trip to the salad bar.”
He waits a few beats to watch the verthani’s reaction, then, with timing honed in clubs around the Pact, tosses his head back, shakes out his hair, and casually adds, “I’m a comedian. Serious is my middle name because it was on sale the day I was born, and my mom couldn’t think of anything better. Lucky for me, it didn’t stick.”
Nym holds his pose a moment, then a mischievous grin lights his face. His laugh lands hearty and warm, like a thick blanket shared among friends around a roaring lodge firesim.
“I’m Faelyn Arbane Safir, but everyone calls me Nym. Negotiator, diplomat, weaver of stories, teller of tales, and professional deflator of overdeveloped egos throughout the Pact Worlds. Pleased to meet you.”
As they walk, Nym catches Locket's eye and nods toward their guide.
He turns back to their guide and clears his throat.
“You work for Venture Captain Radaszam, eh? What’s it like to be on his force?”
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...
Nym holds his pose a moment, then a mischievous grin lights his face. His laugh lands hearty and warm, like a thick blanket shared among friends around a roaring lodge firesim.
“I’m Faelyn Arbane Safir, but everyone calls me Nym. Negotiator, diplomat, weaver of stories, teller of tales, and professional deflator of overdeveloped egos throughout the Pact Worlds. Pleased to meet you.”
.
The waiter had hooked a nervous finger in his collar but now smiles broadly. "Thank you -- Nym. I am Jontor Rockumbra. If you require anything else, please call.
As they walk, Nym catches Locket's eye and nods toward their guide.
He turns back to their guide and clears his throat.
“You work for Venture Captain Radaszam, eh? What’s it like to be on his force?”
Your guide continues to walk and look straight ahead.
"It's just Rad, man. He pays us well. The jobs keep us closer to home than the Starfinders. Are you looking to make a change? There's a bonus if we recommend someone who stays three months. I would split it with you."The ship's airlock is small. The three of you can all fit by sacrificing your personal space. The lock cycles and opens to reveal a machinery space. There's no clear corridor through.
"My ship is cramped and spartan by most standards. Be very careful when you move about her. your fellow passengers can help orient you."
Your android guide sheds her cloak and vaults a condenser. His movement changes mid-flight indicating that the ship's gravity is not on, or possibly not working, and certainly isn't synched with Skydock's. There's no corridor through the compartment, only a long narrow empty space hemmed in by machinery and lined with occasional section of ladder, kick plates, and hand holds. The space may have been a cargo bay but is filled with machinery, including a domed cube with readouts and displays.
You hear the airlock cycling in good time to prepare yourselves for whoever comes through.
The door opens to reveal Selah Sci, a pahtra, and an elvish-looking humanoid. She sheds her cloak launches herself into the cargo hold-engine room while telling the newcomers that you will orient them.
"Accommodations are minimal. It will be easier to get around once we're free of Absalom's artificial gravity field. Common area and work space are forward. Cockpit and quarters are on the halfdeck above. I will go prepare for departure and will sound the acceleration warning two minutes before we undock. "
Somewhat unconventionally, the machinery in this bay seems to consist of a Signal 4 Drift drive, an outsized fusion bottle to power it, and thruster systems usually found outside the hull.
It's hard to tell from inside, but this is a very heavily modified Atech Beetle, a small commercial hauler, and salvage workhorse. Hundreds of these fly the Pact Worlds.
Harlan spreads his arms wide in a half-hearted attempt at welcome, lit cigar sticking out the side of his mouth. This greasy looking half-orc wears heavy armor styled with black and red filigree and stained with ash and what may be tomato sauce. "So yer the other passengers? Don't look like much to me. Find some space for yerselves. Hammock's mine." He runs a pudgy hand through a mop of slicked-back hair before returning it to finger his cigar.
"You know anything more than we do 'bout this whole business?"
Zephyr relates what he has learned about their ship (spoilers above) and adds, ”I don’t know much about our mission either, but a modified cargo hauler with high speed drift capability speaks of the need for speed and unobtrusiveness.”
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A ululating tritone sounds for about 20 seconds. Harlan and Zephyr recognize the acceleration warning. "We have clearance to depart. Secure yourselves and your possessions. "
Two minutes later, clicks and knocks shudder through the hull as the docking clamps release. Then a hissing puff from the maneuvering thrusters send gravity sideways for a moment before you find yourself in zero gee. Harlan and Zephyr already know, but Locket and Faelyn are just recognizing that the ship's artifical gravity either doesn't work, or doesn't exist.
Gravity swirls again as your pilot pivots the ship unto its outbound vector, then something like a half gee in the floorward direction establishes itself and remains mostly constant save for small course correction burns.
Thirty minutes later, your pilot makes another announcement. "Entering the Drift in ten minutes. I hope your capacity for self-amusement is adequate for an estimated mean journey of about 4 days. "
Shortly thereafter, your pilot leaves the cockpit to speak with you all, "Our destination does not officially exist. In compliance with secrecy protocols imposed on me, I have locked you out of the Drift navigation module. For safety, you have access to all tactical, piloting, and other navigation functions. In the event of my termination, you will have access to Drift navigation also.
Do not query me about the mission. I am merely a taxi driver with an address."
Nym sweeps into the room with an arresting grace. “Helloooo, fellow Starfinders!”
He pushes back some silver hair near his face and flips his low ponytail into position over his left shoulder. His features look elvish — maybe half-elf — with pointed ears poking through his wave of hair. His skin’s pearlescent shimmer suggests there’s more to his background that that. And when he ducks low through the door and his silver white wings clear the frame, it’s clear that “elvish” is only the beginning.
Nym pauses at the viewport, looking at the pattern of the stars before the ship enters the drift. He lets out a short sigh. Hmf. So much for booking a few side gigs on the trip…
He picks up the conversation from Harlan and Zephyr.
“Unobtrusiveness indeed. It would be hard to pick a ship like this out of any spaceport. Given our position, I’d say we’re heading into the vast. This should be interesting.”
He bows to his new teammates and pours out a warm, room-filling welcome. ”I’m Faelyn Arbane Safir, but most people call me Nym. I’ll be the team's face, negotiator, and perhaps even a bit of comic relief. It's a pleasure to work with you.”
"Greetings, Nym, you can call me Zephyr. My story is pretty simple--I'm a pilot of sorts, anything from a starship to a suit of powered armor like that hoversuit over there," says the android.
"I've been in a scrape or two and can shoot most weapons, including that turret gun up top in case we run into issues on our trip," he summarizes.
"Ugh, my capacity for self-amusement's 'bout the size of a thimble. Hope you lot brought some cards." Harlan hauls himself up into a hammock. "Now, you people gonna introduce yerselves? You probably know me already, but if you don't, name's Harlan."
A little Culture (DC15) is enough to recognize the name as a gladiator of middling fame in the Akitonian and Apostae fighting circuits. Mixed discipline fighting, meaning he leverages magic rather than his fists most of the time.
Nym cocks his head and his gaze drifts down. He lightly taps his chin,
“Harlan… mixed discipline fighting… magic… YES! You won a close match on Apostae not so long ago. Um… versus… a rather lethal-looking vesk if I remember correctly. I was headlining at a casino lounge near the venue. The place catered to locals, nothing fancy.”
He chuckles and gives a low whistle at the memory. “I heard all about the fight from the bar patrons. Your win left me a tough crowd. Plenty of, ah, incorrect bets were placed at the sports book for your bout. But the house loved you!”
Gesturing to Harlan’s adventuring gear, Nym says, “Is this a ‘new you’ or are you just taking a break from the greatest spectacle in martial magic?”
Nym turns to Zephyr and gives a small bow.
“That’s quite an array of skills, Zephyr. I’m glad you’re on our side of the bulkhead. When you’re not piloting or tussling, what do you enjoy? What fires up your circuits?”
"Turns out the Starfinder Society pays more and cares less if ya blow a few extra things up along the way." He snorts "Ya'd think the rings on Apostae wouldn't mind if a few people in the crowd lost their eyebrows, but they had the guts to dock my pay for it. Pah!" He throws up his hands in indignation.
"This works for me right now." He shrugs "What about yourself?"
Slipping a rectangular case from his shoulder, Locket gives a gentle shove to send it drifting after their guide, through the limited space between machinery and displays. An easy push of his legs soon has the pahtra following the case to the other side of the small vessel.
Emerging on the other side, he nods in greeting to Harlan and Zephyr. "Name's Locket," he murmurs in introduction. "Student of martial arts. And pretty handy in a scrap."
A push of a hand on a nearby bulkhead redirects him toward a relatively clear spot of flooring. Returning his feet to solid ground, he reaches for a strap of the long rectangular case floating nearby. "Oh, and Master of the Box," he adds with a smirk and a glance toward Faelyn.
He doesn't immediately recognise Harlan, but Faelyn's recount of the half-orc's exploits help make the connection. "I heard about that," the pahtra says. "Caught a bout or two of yours in my time on Akiton," he adds with a nod of appreciation to Harlan.
"Sounds like you've been an Agent for some time," Locket says to Zephyr. "I look forward to learning from you." He bows his head respectfully.
Responding to Nym, Zephyr says, ”I guess I don’t have a lot of hobbies other than flying—but I like to fly or drive just about everything. Maybe I’ll discover a hobby while we wait to arrive to our destination.”
”I’d be happy to try some sparring, but I usually derive the strength of the blows from the powered armor, so it could be a challenge.” he adds.
"Speed is often more important than power from my experience," Locket replies to Zephyr. 'I'd like that. Perhaps there's something I'll be able to share with you as well," he adds with a friendly smile.
Harlan grins, showing yellowed teeth "Aw yeh. I'm ready for that box to be somethin' good. Somethin' real good. Hope you don't disappoint." He leans back in his hammock "Welcome aboard. Both of ya."
Zephyr spends some quality time during their trip sparring, learning to use his body without armor to achieve martial arts poses and katas. The ship is too cramped for him to try out his new skills with his powered armor, but their mission will likely provide such an opportunity.
Locket snorts a laugh. "I don't know what great wonder you've imagined... but prepare to be disappointed."
"It's value's more sentimental than anything,' he explains to Harlan, running a hand along the case. Shobhad motifs adorn the case's sides.
Popping the latches, he flips open the case, revealing a well-worn, partially disassembled sniper rifle nestled snugly within. "A friend taught me how to shoot," the pahtra says before closing and securing the case.
Locket fishes a small cloth bundle from his backpack. "It may prove more challenging than usual," he says, unfurling the fabric and leaving a trail of tiny black and white rounded beads floating before him. "But I find it's a fun way to pass the time."
Smoothing out the square cloth on the floor of the cramped space reveals fine printed lines forming a grid of small squares. Plucking the beads from where they drift before him, he begins placing them on the intersecting lines of the grid. "Anyone for a game?"
Locket happily trains with Zephyr throughout the trip. He offers little tips and demonstrates adjustments to the android's technique.
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Early the fifth day Andromedae drops out of drift and your pilot announces, "We're here! A few hours burn will get us to the station." She's been in the pilot chair continually for the entire trip.
This system is sparse. A small red dwarf provides the focus for the revolution of its planetoids. The only remarkable features are a small space station about .5 AU from the star and a something that looks like a glowing blue nebula near the edge of the heliosphere.
Mysticism DC 12 or Physical Science DC 18
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Aboard the Space Station
On the far side of the airlock, your pilot hands you off to a large male vesk clad in shiny black armor. Selah says to Zephyr, "Think about what I said." Then she ducks through the hatch and back to her ship.
The big vesk says gruffly, "Leave your gear her and follow me. Radaszam is expecting you."
Like the star system, the station is sparsely inhabited and furnished. The few crew you see are all dressed in obsidian black.
At an undistinguished door (Deck 3, Outer-- 327.1) the vesk stops. "Through there." He watches you all pass into the room.
Inside, Venture Captain Radaszam, leader of the Acquisitives faction, stands before a large window in this briefing room, observing small ships come and go through a diminutive blue portal in the distance. As he watches, a hunk of ice emerges from the portal and travels directly toward the base.
At the table in the center of the room sits Historia-7, staring at a hologram of a purple starship that does not appear to be of Pact Worlds design.
Radaszam turns from the view and addresses the new arrivals.
“Greetings, Starfinders. I trust your journey here was relatively peaceful and that the portal did not give you much trouble while inbound.”
Historia-7 makes a motion with her hand, and the small purple starship disappears and is replaced by a larger hologram depicting a trinary star system. “Let’s get started,” she says,
“As you know, over a year ago, a large number of Starfinders were trapped in a trinary star system called the Scoured Stars. However, thanks to diligent work and keen investigation by the Society over the past year, we recently discovered a device that let us take down the barrier and we were able to send in a rescue mission.”
She flicks her wrist, and the purple ship reappears, replacing the star system. “However, our rescue mission was interrupted by the arrival of a fleet of alien ships piloted by a race calling themselves the jinsuls. We were not prepared for the overwhelming force of these aggressors.
“During the incident, we recovered a jinsul starship, and our technicians have spent the last weeks going over the ship from
top to bottom. Last week, we finally made a breakthrough: we discovered that this particular ship is programmed to return to an outer shipyard within the Scoured Stars system for prescheduled maintenance.”
Radaszam spreads his arms and grins, revealing long rows of white teeth. “This is where the fun begins. If you don’t mind, Historia, this is my favorite part.”
He turns to the table, shifting the hologram to an alien starbase with a busy maintenance dock. “This is the station where our jinsul craft is scheduled to dock. We’ll use this opportunity to send a message to the rest of the jinsul fleet: the Starfinders and our allies are not a foe to be taken lightly. Now, Historia-7 tells me that since the jinsuls’ technology relies so heavily on automation, we’ll be able to stow away on the returning craft and board the station without detection.
Our mission—yes, Historia and I are going with you—is to clear a path to the primary reactor deep within the base and rig it with explosives.”
Historia-7 continues, “Starfinders, the bomb we are bringing—the jinsul craft’s original self-destruct unit—requires onsite modifications to correctly interface with the jinsuls’ power reactor. Radaszam and I will remain behind on the spacecraft while you scout a path to the reactor and clear any obstacles. This is an opportunity to investigate jinsul technology firsthand, and whatever you discover could be invaluable on our mission planning regarding the jinsuls. Once you secure safe passage, contact us with communicators and we’ll bring the bomb and set the charges. I imagine we’ll need to depart fairly quickly after that to avoid detection. Do you have any questions about your mission?”
Gathering together his belongings for departure, Locket pauses when a blue glow on the ship's scanners catches his eye. "Looks like a portal," he murmurs, tapping the display with the clawed tip of a finger.
Aboard the space station, events move quickly and Locket finds himself in a briefing before having the chance to properly orient himself.
"I've heard bits and pieces about the missions to the Scoured Stars. What can you tell us about the jinsuls and their base?" he asks, doing his best to catch up.
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Historia-7 replies, “Very little. We first became aware of them when they ambushed a Starfinder vessel that was en route to the star system where we eventually found the device that allowed us access to the Scoured Stars. Our next encounter with them was at the Scoured Stars. They are hostile... “
"Angry giant fleas," Radaszam finishes for her before the android continues, "“Unfortunately, we’re not sure what we will find at the base. Based on preliminary long-range sensors, it looks like it’s a depot for servicing jinsul craft for routine maintenance and preparing them for specialty missions. Hopefully this mission provides an opportunity to learn more while delivering a counterpunch.”
”I’ve fought them before,” says Zephyr, ”And they pack quite a punch. Hardy, too. We’ll want every tactical advantage we can get.”
”Now, learning to fly one of their ships and upgrading it with Starfinder tech—that could be a lot of fun—but unfortunately, that’s not the mission,” he adds.
”Now I’m more tactical than strategic, Venture Captain, but I still feel the need to ask the question. If we try to hit them and fail, they may see us as weak and ripe for being conquered. If we attack and succeed too well, they may see us as an existential threat and come after us with everything they have. How can we be sure that this plan will deliver the right calibrated message that we intend?” asks Zephyr.
Harlan starts laughing when the details of the mission begin coming into focus. He pulls out a new cigar and lights it "You shoulda said you'd be gettin' me a gift Radaszam! Life threatening mission, tinkerin' with Jinsul tech, and finishin' the trip with a bloody huge explosion. I couldn't have asked for something nicer after five days watching the rust dry on the way over."
"The ship we're stowing on on the way, we got any control over it? In case we hit trouble, can we override the autopilot and weapons?" Harlan considers "How about other resources at our disposal? I 'ssume since yer comin' along there'll be some of yer black suits with us? Any other gear or supplies?"
"Any particular tech you're hopin' we leave intact in there to study?"
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”... How can we be sure that this plan will deliver the right calibrated message that we intend?” asks Zephyr.
Radaszam stares straight at Zephyr. "We can't be sure of anything. But they greeted us for the first time with fire and death. They talk and negotiate by murdering our people without mercy. When defeated and offered peace, they “surrendered” by launching a suicidal attack meant to destroy our flagship. They’re fanatics totally dedicated to wiping our society from the galaxy, and they are the closest thing to pure evil that you will encounter outside of the Abyss. If the Devourer of Hope had avatars on this plane, they’d be jinsuls.
In my judgement, this is better than doing nothing."Harlan starts laughing ...
"The ship we're stowing on on the way, we got any control over it? In case we hit trouble, can we override the autopilot and weapons?" Harlan considers "How about other resources at our disposal? I 'ssume since yer comin' along there'll be some of yer black suits with us? Any other gear or supplies?"
"Any particular tech you're hopin' we leave intact in there to study?"
Historia replies to Harlan's first question. “We will have control. We will ride the autopilot to their base. Once we’re safely docked, I’ll disable the autopilot program. Once we’re done, we’ll leave as fast as we can. We’ve been doing some long-distance reconnaissance of the starbase, and I feel confident that we can accurately mimic the flight path of the ships leaving the dock after maintenance.”
Now it's Harlan's turn to experience Radaszam's stare. "I presumed such experienced agents would bring any weapons and gear you needed for a fight. We have a small armory here. You can check out gear there before we leave. Once we leave it will just be us. The ship won't hold additional personnel.
Harlan smirks "You can't blame me for askin'. Once in a red moon the Society pulls through with something... interesting. But we'll be just fine runnin' the gauntlet ourselves, yeah?" He looks to the other members of the party.
"Clear enough for me. You all ready?"
"Having the right tool for the job is important, so I'll check the armory and adapt anything needed into my armor. Once I've done that, I'll be ready to go," says Zephyr, headed off to kit up.
Zephyr takes one of the Mark 2 healing serums and says, "Not much else here that looks particularly useful compared to my current equipment. I am ready to go."
"Let's get this rollin' then." Harlan blows a puff of smoke and waves his cigar.
Locket listens intently as Historia and Radaszam answer the group's questions.
"We're lucky to have crewmates with some experience of the jinsuls," he says, nodding toward Zephyr and Harlan. "I'm still new to all this and will heed your advice."
Following Zephyr's example, he scoops up one of the offered healing serums."Ready when you are."
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Once you make all desired preparations, you, Radaszam and Historia-7, board the recovered jinsul starship.
The journey is less-than-comfortable for all involved; everything aboard the cramped ship was designed to meet the needs of jinsul physiology. The dark-blue interior of the ship is dimly lit with glowing purple lights that run in lines along the corridors, which cut away at strange angles through the mazelike interior of the ship.
From the moment Historia brings the ship online, the autopilot engages. Without further prompting by the pilot, the ship effortless leaves the docking bay and moves off. With a brief shudder, the ship engages its Drift engine, and the blackness of the world outside is replaced with the aurora of the Drift. After 2 days of travel, the stolen jinsul starship disengages the Drift engine and emerges on the outskirts of the Scoured Stars system. Approaching what briefly appears to be a planetoid, you see that it’s not a stellar object—it’s a bustling spherical starbase hundreds of miles across. Jinsul starships, some the size of the one captured by the Starfinders, and some many times that size, busily move in and around through the many maintenance and loading docks that dot
the outside of the base.
As the starship nears the base, a blinding flash of purple light emerges from a docking bay on one of the base’s upper quadrants and locks on to the jinsul ship. The ship quakes and trembles for a moment as the autopilot disengages and the starbase’s tractor beam slowly brings the starship down toward the docking bay.
Harlan makes sure his environmental seals are on and steps over to the jinsul starship's control panel. Without making any actual actions that might betray the ship being manned, he tries to see what the passive scans and other readouts might be saying about the starbase ahead.
Expecting the mission is about to begin, he casts his personal gravity and extra sense spells.
Zephyr makes sure his armor and weapons are fully charged and ready to go. He climbs into his powered armor and crouches at the hatch, saying, ”Alright, Let’s do this.”
Looking over to Harlan, he asks, ”Can you get a schematic from your scans, enough to tell us where the power core is and maybe plot some potential routes?”
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Mechanical arms reach out and grab the starship from the space just outside of the maintenance dock, and the tractor beam disengages. The starship is ferried through a long, rectangular room, past dozens of other identical starships and placed on the ground by doors that seem to lead farther inside. Fully automated robots busily attend to the other starships in the dock, some of which show damage from heavy firefights.
Radaszam goes over the plan one last time. "Keep a comm line open so we can monitor your progress, and you can monitor us. We'll work on the surprise. Clear and map a route to the core and let us know when you've found it. We'll follow you in with the explosives. Once they're installed we get the hell out of Doedgia."
Historia adds, 'Remember this is also an information gathering mission. Record anything you can learn about jinsul technology in a reasonably short time.'
"Riiiight, riiight. Info gatherin'."
Harlan considers the view out of the ship "Looks like we've got one way in, so lets get to it."
Nodding, Zephyr prepares to debark once the others are ready.
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Sadly the bandwidth of the ship's datalink with the station is fully consumed with a firmware update.
Instruments show the space station's atmosphere is breathable and acceptably free of known toxins, viruses, and bacteria. The airlock doors open and you're deposited on the deck of this huge repair bay. Robots move quickly around the ships they are repairing and ignore you completely. Occasionally one peels off from its work and rolls across the bay. Something about their speed and directness of motion, makes you suspect that they are not equipped with any kind of safety device that would prevent them from rolling over, bending, spindling, or mutilating a nearby organism that was in their way.
Fortunately there's a nearby airlock on the interior wall. The airlock doors open simply by pressing a mauve panel beside the door. A long corridor plunges toward the center of the station.
You make your way along the corridor until they reach a double door with
a smoked glass panes in the middle of each door.