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Jaraduk attempts to navigate the dense, throbbing crowd in the club. He holds a hand over one ear and leans over to scream something at the other members of the party.
Just then Jevar notices the undead nuar, and it unnerves him somewhat.
He decides to ignore all of the oddities visible and track down a staff member to mention the name "Rishae" to.
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To Akh, Tarika mutters to herself. "Well, to be fair, necrografts are technically inert, non-dangerous, delicious, and fully legal foodstuffs... for certain sorts of folks..."
Akh mentally notes 'Check later if Tarika might actually be undead.'
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Akh leans in to listen to Jaraduk at the club, nodding at the assessment of hypertronic sludge house. He had no idea what that was, but it seemed best to just agree with anyone opposed to houses made of sludge. Akh had bigger things to worry about in any case, including a large portion of the club's guests. Only the undead nuar seemed to be a known quantity - the kind of cutthroat mercenary sort that Akh had interacted with several times in his old life.
He considers heading over to see if the nuar knows anything about Rishae, but then changes his mind. The fellow seems to be having the time of his unlife, and it would probably be dangerous to interrupt him until later. He instead follows Melissa to the dragonkin.
He follows her comment with "Yes. The scampering is quite realistic." He looks down at himself, then over at the squox, then over at the dragonkin. He looks back at himself. "We seem to be somewhat similarly designed. Hmmm. The name is Akh by the way, and this is Melissa."
Hmm, so if the ship could have only taken all that damage from an internal explosion, it's still possible that the external fire caused it. I wonder if this ship was carrying something it shouldn't have been. Maybe a passenger smuggled something onboard. I don't imagine Blackwind Engineering wanted to collect on their debt this way...
"I wouldn't be so sure. If Saema owed a lot of money with no way to pay back, then rights to the ship remains plus all those dead bodies might be attractive. And if they're an engineering company, perhaps they have the technical know-how to trigger an internal explosion without completely destroying the ship or passenger bodies. And maybe they paid off Tremeshkan to attack as a cover!"
Guess?'s curiosity now piqued, he'll do a couple things when there is time. Afterall, where there is crime and coverups, there's opportunity!!
He'll try to discover what the pirate Tremeshkan actually made off with. How did the pirate profit off this particular attack.
Guess? will also try to dig for a bit more information about Blackwind Engineering. What do they do? What do they engineer? Does the company have a history of shady dealings? Why does a fashion mogul owe money to an engineering company?
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Just then Jevar notices the undead nuar, and it unnerves him somewhat.
Um... maybe we shouldn't head in that direction.
"Challenge... ACCEPTED!!! even despite the dog..."
Guess? heads over to the nuar and says, "Hey man! You're da BOSS!"
Guess? gestures to the hot tub of raw meat, "Daaaaaang you know how to party!! Look, look, it's already obvious that you're a VIP here and can have anything at the snap of your fingers. But can I buy you and your pup a drink? You've got style like NO ONE else in this place!!"
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While out searching, Guess? finds a small merchant's stand run by a wet-suited Kalo. The artist sells small globes filled with a colorful algae that moves towards heat. As you pick it up the pink, blue, and yellow moss wriggles along the surface of the ball towards your hand. "One of a kind, made with the beautiful waters of Kalo-Mahoi. 50 creds."
Asking around on the way to the club, Guess? discovers that the Verces starliner was carrying a load of hyper-dry ice from Apostae. The substance is valued for its medicinal, energy, and luxurious properties on the planet with so much desert land. The pirates must have robbed the Harlequin's Prayer for the valuable good. Blackwind Engineering is the top manufacturer of eoxian starships. They became notorious during the Magefire Assault by creating the most deadly and feared ships in the eoxian navy and have continued in that trend ever since. Today, Blackwind ships are an accepted—and even admired—part of Pact Worlds history, with their red dome “eyes” and skeletal hulls featuring in the artistic depictions of many historic battles, and older models commonly appearing in museums. Ships with bone-spur silhouettes have since become synonymous with Eoxian naval might. Blackwind ships are built for war and rarely accommodate living crews. Decommissioned military vessels have increased in popularity on the civilian market since the truce that ended the Silent War. The lack of traditional life support on these starship makes for spacious interiors, and they’re popular with enthusiasts due to their fearsome appearance. Buyers seek out the novelty of owning a “real” Eoxian warship, and many pay extra if the ship had a prestigious tour of duty. While their vessels are used for deadly purposes, the company itself is reputable and staple Pact Worlds corporation. If there are any shady dealings within the company, it would be through the actions of a single employee not a broader conspiracy. As for why Otan Saema would owe a debt to the starship manufacturer... she must have purchased a collector ship or a starship upgrade from the company.
At the club, most of the group follows the cute little robot over to the dragonkin at the bar. "Why yes, thank you! Digit here is one of my favorite creations." He lays a large purple hand out in the air and the fox-like drone hops into it. "I'll take that as the highest complement, fellow dragon! Little guy has so much personality, he'd almost pass for a SRO." Digit's wiry metal squirrel-like tail wiggles as the dragonkin pets its forehead. "My name is Dizzuldandran, but my friends call me Dizzy!" The dragonkin looks around at the gothic ambiance of the club and raises a drink to their muzzle. “First time in this place. All seems a little much, you know? Like, they’re trying too hard. I hear on the weekends people bungee down from the seventh floor while laser turrets open fire on them. That sounds… fun?” Dizzy laughs loudly, belly heaving. "Bartender!" A ghoul in a bright pink suit, that matches the tongue lolling out of her mouth, stares at you with indifference. "A round of drinks for my new friends!" He spins back towards you on the stool, arms spread wide. "I'm guessing a bit of business brought you here! Or... do you have a bit of unalived bits within you? Seems like this joint doesn't cater to... the living." He smiles wide. "I'm the engineer on a ship myself, boss is upstairs doing some sort of business. How about you?" The drinks arrive and Dizzy orients the conversation towards more leisurely topics. He swaps news about cybergrunge music and culture with Jaraduk, then discusses the latest trends in robotics or computers with Melissa and Akh.
If there's anything you sense from Dizzy the dragonkin, it is sincerity. He really seems friendly and outgoing, almost to the same level as Tarika! However, you can tell that Dizzy has been formally trained in the art of diplomacy. Just from observing his interactions with everyone around him you can see that the dragonkin easily builds rapport and common ground with this he meets.
On the other side of the room, separated by over 100 decibels of music, stands Guess? and the undead nuar. The beast of a man releases the waiter, shouting after him. "Nobody cuts me off! You better come back with a double!" The nuar's skeletal jaw opens in something resembling a smile. "That's right, I am the boss! Yeah, grab me a double pour of eoxian bloodbrew. Anything on the top two shelves will do!" The nuar laughs and raises boneblade that seems to have replaced his right hand. "All hail Kreech Nakkan, greatest mercenary to tread the Pact Worlds!" He sinks in lower into the tub, grabbing a choice cut of meat and taking a big bite. He throws the rest to his skeletal hound, who gnaws on it quietly. "Make sure you watch the waiter when he pours it. Make sure nothing gets slipped in there." The dark pits of the nuar's eye sockets stare deep into Guess?. "Can't trust these reptoids. They're everywhere, you know."
Strek STRETCHES his legs to become nearly as tall as Del when they arrive at the club.
"If'n ya don't mind, I'll just pretend to be yer date. Then maybe we won't have to talk to too many people."
Once inside, he orders a Slurm, and cautiously wobbles his stretched out limbs to the music as the group makes the rounds.
"Nice guy."
Akh listens to Dizzy while watching Digit. Maybe the true drone was the dragonkin, after all. He shakes his head at the question of unalived bits "No more than any android has unliving components. Or maybe, more unliving components than most?" He raps a claw against his hollow chassis "In any case, not the kind of unliving bits that the people here would count."
"We're also here on business, I think. We're here on business, right Melissa? We're looking for someone called Rishae. Do you know them?"
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Once inside, he orders a Slurm,
Jaraduk leans over and speaks to Strek, not whispering given the already dense thrum in the room. I've heard stories about the factories where they make that stuff... He shudders visibly.
Rather than spend additional energy running down a different staffmember to ask about Rishae, Jaraduk listens up to see if Dizzy can answer Akh.
Strek STRETCHES his legs to become nearly as tall as Del when they arrive at the club.
"If'n ya don't mind, I'll just pretend to be yer date. Then maybe we won't have to talk to too many people."
Del's eyes widen at the... unique surroundings. "Deal." she replies immediately to Strek. Seeing the undead near sitting in a raw meat tub, she curls up her nose. "Don't let me look at the menu. I don't want to know what they serve here..."
She shudders a bit, then looks around for a lucandrian.
"I don't see RIshae. Of course, I have no idea what they look like..."
She smiles at the dragonkin and waves hello, but it's crowded around them, so she doesn't try to get closer. She trusts her companions to let her know if something important is said.
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He decides to ignore all of the oddities visible and track down a staff member to mention the name "Rishae" to.
The waiter - a floating animate hollow skin pauses, a silver tray holding flaming shot glasses and a pile of flank steaks on their shoulder. "Rishae? Yeah, I think she booked one of the HAC's upstairs. Make sure you open the right one though" The server's eye flaps move upwards in order to imply... something.
Dizzy the dragonkin looks up from Digit in shock. "Rishae?!" He claps his hands together. "What a coincidence! That's who we're here to see!" He reaches into his cargo pants and pulls out a wrinkled business card. "Dizzy, engineer of the Wintermourn, at your service! Niva’s upstairs right now, haggling with Rishae, like I suspect you all intend to do." Dizzy puts his hands in his pockets awkwardly. "I’m sorry we got here first, but, you know, speed is everything in this business. No hard feelings.” He shrugs. "You could go up and talk to them if you want. No skin off my wings. But... I dunno. The captain doesn’t usually fancy interruptions. I mean, you can knock, but don’t be surprised if my pal Nemelith sticks a big gun in your face. That’s just how she says hello to strangers.” He grins, trying to lighten up the situation.
"Oh. Oh no." Akh takes the business card, then beckons toward Guess?. This was the kind of thing that the fast-talking goblin would need to be in on if the new Bullseye Shipping was going to stand a chance at running the job. "I don't, as a rule, like having guns stuck in my face, but I think we will have to go up there and interrupt Dizzy. Sorry about that."
Jaraduk glares at the animated waiter incredulously, frantically looking up and back at it, trying to figure out where it's pointing before it rushes off.
What? Where? Which one?!
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Guess? goes ahead with the purchase of the Kalo-Mahoi water globe for 50cr. "Hopefully this will get things off on the right foot, thank you Tarika!" says Guess? to himself as he pockets the purchase.
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Guess? turns back to Kreech and says, "You're Kreech?!? THE Kreech??? I've heard of you!! Never thought I'd have the honor of meeting you! Is it true what they say that you've finished every job you've ever taken? No job is too big, no fee is too big, amirite?!? And that once any of your competitors hear you're on the job, they all back out?
"Oh! Oh! And one time, you were hunting down a badass vesk gladiator champion but upon hearing that you were on the job, that vesk soiled himself?!?"
Guess? calls a waiter and says, "Do you know who this is?!? Ohmigod!! Two double pours of of eoxian bloodbrew please! Top shelf!!"
Guess? turns back to Kreech and says, "Honor to share the same air space as you! My name's Jackman!! I specialize in.... transportation, if you know what I mean. If you need specialty items delivered somewhere or looking to procure something of interest, well, I'm your goblin!!
"So hey, are you in between jobs? Just relaxin? Or are you here to MEAT someone? HA!!"
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Torren seems to be leading the conversations, perhaps because they have spent the most time free. "Yes, mining might be a good idea. Nobody asks for ID when an extra pair of willing hands are needed."
As the group walks away from the Oliphaunt Last Chance, a trio of android heads pop out of the airlock. "Uh... Are we there yet?" Three androids wander down the gangway. "Alright, let's get to mining!" A necrovite taskmaster cracks a whip. "Oye! Fat metal skellies! Get on the ship, time to dig deep for low wages!" Torren turns to the others with wide eyes. "They'll PAY us?!" They board the eoxian liner that takes off soon after.
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Guess? has indeed never heard of Kreech but...
the goblin manages to convince the inebriated undead nuar! The beastly man guffaws. "I've finished every job I ever finished, that's for sure! And that gladiator, he was a skittermander! A dirty soiled fur-baby!" Kreech claps his hand against the side of his integrated bone-blade. "Ghoul! Come over here, baby-schmoodle! I paid stacks for this bath, you better enjoy it!" The skellid hound, bones glowing a soft green under the club lights, dives head first into the bath of raw meat. "So, Jackman, you know where you could get me a couple... delicacies? I've been dying for some Barathu veal for a few decades. Hard to get without hunting it yourself, you know." He rotates his skull on his spine, practically rolling his long-rotten eyes. "I've got a special long-term employer, they've got a fat wallet, you know? I like to ride the clubs between jobs. And what better place to do it than the center of the universe?" His maw opens wide, bits of flesh hanging between the teeth. As the two doubles of blood brew arrive on a silver platter, carried by a floating suit of flayed flesh, Kreech grabs them both in one hand and flips them into his gullet. "Thanks, Jackman! You're quite the boy from oz!" The nuar, well past the legal limit, sinks lower into his tub of raw meat.
Over at the bar, Dizzy waves his hands in front of him. "Hey, dragon to dragon, I gotta tell ya... I don't like guns in my face either. These little folks, they think we're braver than them because we're big. But like, a lasgun finishes an technogre the same as a gnome, right?" The dragonkin sighs and pets his drone. "Hey, if you want to delay that whole gun-in-your-face thing while your captain finishes up, want to play a round of Fission-Fossils? Or maybe Pluto-Planets?" Dizzy pulls out a datapad with a hoard of hologames loaded up and ready to go.
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"Uhhh, maybe later. I have a goblin to warn." Akh notes that Guess? doesn't seem to have heard him, so he leaps, floating through the air, to land just behind the goblin. "Guess!? We have a talking-related crisis that needs your help, and well, you're here handling a slightly less important talking related thing." He picks Guess? up, ready to leap up to the meeting room with the goblin in hand. "Our black heart uh... facilitator? is currently negotiating with a rival shipping group!"
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Surprised by the sudden appearance of Akh and the news of a rival already on site, Guess? stops Akh from carrying Guess? off but asks Akh in quiet, hushed tones what is going on.
After getting the details from Akh, Guess? turns to Kreech and says, "Hey Kreech, how about we do a small little deal? Won't take but a moment, especially for someone of your skills! In one of the HACs upstairs is a Lucandrian meeting with someone named Niva and Nemelith. Nemelith fancies himself a tough guy but at the end of the day, the two of them are just cargo haulers. They're as tough as tofu skins in a puddle of acid, y'know what I mean?
"If you and Ghoul can spare five mins to go in, interrupt their dealings and scare those two tofu skins (Niva and Nemelith, that is) outta the room, then I, Jackman, will look into procuring some Barathu veal for you at a discounted price!
"And on top of that, my associate here.." Guess? gestures towards Akh, "...will treat us BOTH to a couple more rounds of eoxian bloodbrew afterwards! Whaddaya say Kreech?!?! Easiest lil intimidation side job you'll ever do! Score a couple drinks now and some oh-so-tasty-and-tender floating brain veal later!!!"
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As Akh jumps away from Dizzy, the dragonkin's eyes follow the android's back. “Top floor,” they say. “Last confessional on the right.” As they return to their drink, they add, “Good luck!” After Akh explains the situation and Guess? proffers the trade, the drunk undead nuar raises his chin and thinks it over. "Well, I'm sort of on retainer for some other folks right now... Don't want to mess that up..." Then he stands from the tub on shaky legs. "Ah, that's the shifter propaganda talking. Kreech never walked away from a challenge!" He grabs a rail cannon as large as Melissa from the side of the tub and ambles over to the curving stairwell - dripping blood as he goes. The skellid hound stays in the tub, diving in and out of the meat.
After about 60 seconds, a roaring echoes over the thumping music and several employees rush upstairs. The yelled words begin to take form as a pair of undead bouncers flanking Kreech drag him down the stairs. "NIVA! NEMI! I'm gonna stick a grenade inside your rib cage! You better run, tofu-haulers!" The undead bouncers' have the look of your average zombie, though their skin is more bloated and they move with a more intelligent gait. They seem to be using some sort of mental powers to bounce the nuar's body between them, keeping him just off-kilter enough to not fight back effectively. Kreech continues his ranting as he is escorted to the door. "NIVA, NEMI! You're being hired by the skin-changers! It's the grays, they're coming for your souls! Run while you still can!" The skellid hound happily trots after his master, a hunk of meat hanging from his jaws. Just before Kreech is ejected he latches eyes with Guess?. "Wait! Where's my drink?!"
Quickly after the mercenary's exit, the club resumes to normal. Seconds after things calm down, Dizzy stands and waves towards the stairwell. He appears to be greeting a pair of ysoki and human women. The ysoki's white fur is tied in a ponytail atop her head and her armor looks like it belongs more like that of a mining crew than an adventurer. The human's red skin contrasts brightly with her white hair and black leather outfit. Her skin marks her as a native Akitonian but the fashionable boots and cape that adorn her outfit tell a different story. Dizzy waves you over as he meets up with the duo. “Captain, it is my pleasure to introduce the crew of the Last Chance.”
“The what? This cursed music is loud enough to rattle your bones.”
“It’s supposed to be ironic, I think? Besides, the bone rattling is the whole point.” the human says, eyeing you with one hand resting on the hilt of her hand cannon. “You really ought to read into things a little deeper, Niva, darling.” Dizzy introduces the ysoki as Captain Niva Rovo and the woman as Nemelith Zydan.
As chaos breaks out, Jaraduk let's the useless robot waiter go.
Thanks for nuthin'.
He cranes his neck to look upward and see the undead nuar's chaotic exit. He smiles to himself when he finally leaves. I'm... okay with that. Jaraduk gives it a final shudder.
Turning he slowly pushes through the slam-dancing ghouls and makes his way back to the bar... just in time to follow the party as they walk away from it and see that they're approaching a large Dragonkin, a ysoki, and a human. He leans over and asks Melissa what this is all about.
Closing one ear so he can aim the other at this new group, Jaraduk leans in and yells over the club din.
So... how did it go with Rishae? Any tips for getting on her good side?
"Well, that went badly. Maybe we should have gone ourselves." Akh wobbles slightly from side to side, anxious that maybe the one shot here has been lost. Then again, maybe losing this job wouldn't be too bad. Maybe the next job would be transporting docile and cuddly sheep from Castrovel to Verces for some rich sheep enthusiast...
Akh snaps back to reality as Jaraduk starts talking with the three rival shippers. He leap-floats over the crowd to join them, taking Guess? with him if the goblin doesn't resist this time.
He nods to the Captain. "Hello. Did you, um, already clear everything out up there?" He opens his mouth "Oh, the name is Akh. Crew on the Last Chance."
"gobbammit!" mutters Guess? to himself as he witnesses Kreech getting thrown out.
Replying to Akh, Guess? says, "Yah... that definitely could've gone better. Still, I'm gonna have to look up that Kreech guy again later. Might be some opportunities there."
After Akh flies the two of us down to meet with everyone else, Guess? says, "Hi, my name's Jackman. So... what brings you to this lively... ...venue?"
Guess? will look them over and try to discern anything useful.
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While Guess? doesn't sense anything out of the ordinary from the pair of cargo haulers, he does notice some things. The ysoki's sidearm is a pistol with an oversized muzzle and she has the opposite of laugh lines on her face. If anger lines were ever a thing, Captain Niva has them surrounding her muzzle. The akitonian's curving tattoos that trace up her arm are intriguing but not as much as her apparent lack of technological devices. Even Nemelith's pistol is an old school 6-shooter.
Captain Niva looks you over, sizing you up. "We're cargo haulers, picking up our new job. Brokers just sit around all day, I think they like the entertainment of these... venues." When Jaraduk mentions Rishae's name, she glares at Dizzy. "Always the talkative one, eh Dizz? Yepp, we just closed up a deal with Rishae. Gotta drop off some medical supplies in the Veskarium." Nemelith smirks. "Or that's what the manifest will say at any rate. Good timing too. Soon as we finished up a mad Walker burst in shouting about how tiny fungal creatures were living in our brains." Dizzy claps with mirth. "Gotta love the folks you meet on Station! It's always a wild one here." Captain Niva shrugs. "Worked out fine, it ended Rishae's grumbling over us haggling her down to a FAIR price." She turns her small hands palm up, knowingly. "These brokers could squeeze profit from stone, I'll tell ya. But us haulers gotta eat too!" She elbows Dizzy gently. “Tell Jinx to pick us up. We’re leaving.” Dizzy responds in signed Common, making their left hand into a fist at about shoulder height and bobbing it back and forth.
"One more Slurm before we go up. Gotta wash away this smell of formaldehyde."
"Cargo haulers, eh? Since you're meeting with a broker, I guess you're all a crew of independent haulers and not some poor corporate wage slave haulers? Mind if I take down your comms contact? We might need items transported someday. And out of curiosity, do you sometimes take up special delivery contracts?"
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Akh shies away from the rather experienced crew. Experienced, as in, probably very effective at ending lives of rivals. He clears his throat and comments "Well it was nice meeting you. If you ever come across any jobs that involve something very safe and maybe also cuddly, maybe the kind of jobs that aren't cool enough for your own team, maybe you could send them our way. We wouldn't mind some that are a touch more relaxing, yes."
Once they've passed, Akh says "I suppose we might as well see if there are any leftovers?" He leads the way up if the others are amenable.
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You get the information for the trio's comm units before they head out. Captain Niva turns around on her way back out the door. You can barely hear her over the thumping bass. "That's right! We're independent, we are. Always have been since we got together." She nods. "Let us know if you've got anything special. We go where the money is." Nemelith puts her red hand on the ysoki's shoulder. "Time to go, Cap." She winks at Akh. "Don't worry, big boy. We'll send you the boring jobs while we get rich." Niva elbows the akitonian before pushing the taller woman out the front door.
After Melissa and Strek poison their gall bladders with another round of Slurm, you head upstairs. The top floor of Revenant’s Urge is a long, marble-floored hall filled with seven ornate doors that lead into elaborately decorated, room-sized confessional booths, each elaborately decorated.
The booths are actually holographic amusement chambers (HACs). Worshippers of Urgathoa confess their transgressions to her clergy here—instances where they exemplified temperance or demonstrated self-restraint. To help these heretics atone for their blunders, members of the church use the HACs to simulate the subject’s wildest fantasies, hoping to rehabilitate them of their moderation.
You pass by the confessional booths, hearing screams of both pain and pleasure emanating from the doors. The other noises - cruel laughter, squishing flesh, and bubbling water - evoke dark imagery within your mind. Hurrying past the more evocative booths, you head to the last door on the right like Dizzy suggested. You open it to reveal Rishae Tulvaran, a purple haired pastel blue skinned humanoid fey, sitting on a wood bench. Her natural eyes seem to have been replaced by fiery red motes of light. She frowns softly. "Ah, Tarika said you'd be coming." She appears to be in a foul mood. “I’m not sure I can help you,” she says. “I’ve already sold my necrografts on hand to Niva Rovo, and I don’t have another 50 tons of spare black hearts just lying around. Even if I did, they’re probably already on their way to the same mystery client.” She sighs. "No point in flying halfway across the galaxy with a pile of cargo the buyer doesn't want anymore." Of course, that's assuming we don't beat them there.
The fey puts up her hands in defense. "Hey, hey! I'm just a broker, I don't care what you do with the products. You want 'em, maybe we can work something out." She pulls out her datapad, looking over some information. "Your buddy Tarika just hooked me up with a ship full of bodies. I know a guy who can work those into Black Hearts though it will take a few days an a whole lotta moolah." She purses her lips. "I'm guessing you don't have the creds, maybe you have something worth trading. Something like... 10 ship vouchers should do it." As she says that her "eyes" begin to smolder and produce thin trails of white smoke. "Or maybe you don't have that either. One thing you do have is bodies. I know people who love bodies..." She leans back into the confessional wall with a cruel smile. “Necrocrafters always need raw material,” she explains. “And zombies and skeletons make great workers. You won’t need your body after you’re dead. You won’t even miss it.” She turns the datapad around, revealing a contract. "Preemptively sign over your corpses to me, for resale after your deaths. I'm willing to trade you 2 ship vouchers apiece for the rights." The fey woman appears pretty indifferent towards you right now. Perhaps adjusting her mood would adjust the price as well...
Strek starts idly drafting up plans for a faster Drift engine, so these sorts of conversations hopefully become a thing of the past.
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Remembering Tarika's advice about Rishae's dislike of conflict and appreciation of trinkets, Guess? won't take a provocative stance but will instead take a friendly tone and say:
"Hi there Rishae! My name's Jackman. And hey, I get it! There was no pre-arranged deal, so first come, first served. But wait! Before we discuss any business, proper introductions are in order!!
"First, we bring a gift. It's a symbol of our hope for a long and fruitful business relationship with you - and we hope perhaps, in time, a long and close friendship as well."
Guess? pulls out the Kalo-Mahoi water globe and holds it up, "This is made with the waters of Kalo-Mahoi. See how the pink, blue, and yellow moss is drawn to you as you handle it? We like to think it signifies good luck and fortune finding its way to you."
Guess? delicately presents and hands the globe to Rishae.
"Now, please allow me to introduce who we are...
"This is Del, our pilot. Not only the finest pilot in all of the Pact Worlds but the classiest lady around and with a palate so refined, she can name nearly any ingredient just by taste!
"This is Jaraduk, our head of security. Unlike so many other security officers everywhere *cough*nemelith!*cough* Jaraduk actually has a congenial sense of humor and isn't a grump constantly complaining about everyone not following security protocols - because he's already trained us well and we follow protocols to a tee!
"This is Akh, our secondary security officer. Why another? Because we take the security of our valued clients' cargo very seriously! Akh's upbeat optimism is as impressive as his noble, brilliant, golden good looks! Actually, he's an emotionless pessimist but don't tell him that cuz we don't wanna hurt his non-existent feelings, y'know what I mean?"
Guess? winks, then continues...
"This here is Strek, our chief engineer. Down-to-earth guy who can slap any two pieces of machinery together and stretch their capabilities far, far beyond what anyone woulda thought possible!
"This is Melissa, brilliant science gal and newest addition to our crew! Dedicated, hardworking and loyal, she's never one to abandon a job, leave any work half-finished, nor run away from difficult situations!!
"And as I said, my name is Jackman. A goblin of no real note but greatly humbled to be working with such a fine crew!
"Together, we're equal business partners of Bullseye Shipping LLP and the crew of the Last Chance!"
Guess? bows deeply before Rishae.
Guess? pauses for Rishae to respond or ask any questions about us. Then he'll discuss the matter at hand...
Purposefully remaining completely silent on the topic of payment and funds, Guess? says, "So the previous crew has already purchased a load of black hearts and has set off to fulfill the job, eh? Well, it seems we're sunk on this particular transaction. If your necrograft guy will take a few days to produce more black hearts, the chances of us making delivery before the other crew are pretty slim. We have a pretty stock-standard drift engine, so we wouldn't be any faster than the other crew. Instead, we'd have to bank on some kind of incident or catastrophe to befall upon them - and we'd never wish that on anyone... amirite??
"You wouldn't happen to have any other goods that require hauling would you?"
Guess? will also turn to his fellow crew and ask, "Anyone have ideas on how we can possibly set off a few days behind the Wintermourne but somehow beat them to Vesk space? Is there an angle I'm not seeing? Otherwise, this job is looking like a lost cause and we'd be better off looking for something else, amirite??"
*burp*
Strek turns on GUMBI and switches to "Accountant Mode".
"Welp, refittin' our current Drift engine could take anywhere from one to four days, maybe less if Mx Rishae has any local connections.
Vesk Prime is Near Space. Would take us up to eighteen days to get there with our current Signal Basic. But that drops down to just nine days with a Signal Booster."
*tappity tap tap*
"So yup, that'd save us at least 5 days."
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"And leaves someone else hosed on a load of cargo THEY'RE delivering. How would we feel if someone did that to us? It was a job we had a line on for like, 5 seconds. Its absolom station, if there isn't a job opportunity here it doesn't exist "
This may or may not have to do with the Cheesey chucks locations she has mapped out on a pamphlet.
Jaraduk stands silently, listening to Guess?' pitch to Rishae.
What does she care of our plight? She just wants the ship vouchers. And the rights to our bodies... I'm sure she's got a squad who goes around acceleration those investments when the time is right.
Although he isn't saying anything the nuar shudders just then.
Del pales further and further as she passes by the booths. She resists the urge to cover her ears. She did not want to know what was going on in there.
"Sorry, my body's already spoken for," Del cuts in, trying her best to smile, "—pre and post death."
She nods along with Melissa. "I'd rather not race the Wintermourn to the job when they've got the head start." Then she nods to Strek, "Oh, my goodness, yes! That models a dream! Can we afford that?! " She momentarily forgets her surroundings to her love of high-speed flying.
Akh almost interrupts Guess? when the goblin makes some quiet but extremely rude comments. He was very certain that he was more in tune with his emotions that Guess? was, even if his body meant they didn't show up as well. He coughs instead.
When Melissa comments, he adds "Yes, they seemed somewhat nice as well. Sure we've had terrible luck so far, but that doesn't mean we should aspire to spread it to others. Not unless we have to." He follows by shaking his head "Sorry, but I can't pre-sell myself either. My body wouldn't be too useful to any necrocrafters anyway. And it would be more trouble than its worth."
As a species who can freely shed and regrow their limbs like a lizard does with its tail, Strek simply shrugs an indifferent agreement at his colleagues' refusal to sell their bodies.
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Rishae's wraith mote eyes widen at the sight of the gift. She takes the globe in her hands, watching the moss move. "Ah, perfection! This sparks joy; its going in the collection!" The lucandrian smiles gently at the description of your crew, nodding. "Niva's a cunning little rat, that's for sure. We've both ripped each other off more times than I can count. But its always good to meet new clients." At first, as Guess? speaks she doesn't seem very impressed but a divine glow fills his heart and she seems to be more receptive.
"So, you've gotta basic old drift engine, huh? So does the Wintermourn, they use the slow and steady approach I'm told." She sighs. "Too bad you don't have a better drift engine. How it is, it'll just be a roll of Triune's dice - and they've got a few days on you." As Strek mentions a Signal Booster drift engine, she perks up. "Yeah, that sort of engine would give you the edge you need I bet. Those run up quite the tab though, y'all got five extra Ship Vouchers lying around?" Rishae sniffs. "I've got friends at port. They could get you in fast, maybe cut a day or two off the repair." She taps around on the datapad, looking at her inventory. "Not much here, I'm afraid. The destruction of the Harlequin's Prayer, though tragic, was well-timed for me. Demand has been high recently and my stores are low. In a week or so those bodies will be converted and there will be a pile of necrografts ready to go. Why, you have another buyer lined up?" She interlocks her fingers, thinking. "The original buyer might be interested in another set of Black Hearts, I suppose. After all, who needs 50 tons of augments but couldn't use another load?"
Rishae is definitely a sales representative, at heart. She seems to be telling you the truth, but her priorities are quite self-centered. At the end of the day, she wants to sell you a pile of necrografts while maintaining her good reputation as a necrograft rep.
At Melissa and Del's hesitation, Rishae balks. "Hey now, that's not their job! It's on the Pact Worlds-Wide Web! There could be a dozen starships all loaded up with necrografts on their way to be disappointed that you got there first. Nothing you can do about it; the most lucrative trade hauling deals are structured like that. Comes with the gig." Rishae looks Akh up and down, appraising. "You're right on that front, big boy. Android bodies are good for android souls and that's about it." She puts her hands up defensively. "Nothing wrong with that, a'course. Just not so good for my business. Speaking of business... You've got a few days to think it over while I get these bodies worked. If you get a better engine and want to grab the black hearts and race the Wintermourn, more power to ya. If you and your brenneri find a different necrograft-ferrying job, I'll have 50 tons of goods for ya."
Jaraduk shifts in place a bit nervously and finally speaks up. Um, I'm not keen on signing away the 'ol body just yet, but maybe we'll get lucky in our ability to delivery the next set of black hearts. Can't hurt to try. Why don't you let us confer and check on our ship vouchers and... we'll get back to you?
The nuar exhales and looks around at the others to see if they're thinking the same.
"It seems our only chance at this job is to upgrade our engine and race the Wintermourne. But the numbers will have to add up and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm not sure they do.
"Any chance you can do better on the 10 ship voucher price for the hearts? Or your contacts on the 5 vouchers for the new engine?
"We're also potentially open to side jobs or favors that would contribute to lowering the price. Whaddaya say?"
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After Rishae presents her final offer, if any, Guess? will graciously thank her and say, "We truly appreciate your time! As you suggested and as our head of security mentioned, we'll have to confer and weigh our options. We'll reach out to you again if there is any way we can possibly strike a deal. It was a pleasure meeting you."
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"Cap'n, I think we can do this. I had GUMBI run some simulations, and it shows the Wintermourn travelling to Vesk Prime in days. If we start modifying out ship today, it would take day, but then our travel time would be just days. We could be gone and on our way to a new job before the Wintermourn even arrives!"
Strek starts getting giddy with all of his calculations.
"As for the cost.. ya gotta think like a Brakim. We swap out arms for legs all tha time. Refittin' a ship ain't no different, when you break it down." He has GUMBI project a blueprint onto the main viewscreen.
"Our current Drfit Engine has an inherent cost. Let's equate it to 6 ship vouchers. A bigger Drift Engine would cost 15. That's a difference of 9. Pretty hefty, normally. But if we convert the capabilities of the Arcane Laboratory , direct some power from the Shields , spare some defense for just this job , replace both our weapons with Light Particle Cannons , and then.."
"..we get a larger Pulse Grey Power Core, instead of this tiny-sized Pulse Black, which we can manage since the Particle Cannons take less power , that gets us the Drift Engine we need, AND leaves us with a Ship Voucher to spare!"
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As soon as the group has excused themselves from Rishae's presence, Akh starts pondering out loud "I don't really like this. We don't currently have enough ship vouchers to buy up a shipment of black hearts, and even if we did, we'd need to somehow get our claws on a new Drift engine and install it, and even if we managed that, the buyer in the Veskarium was super shady and will probably try to double cross us, and if that goes well, all that would be just to earn some more ship vouchers while making enemies of the Wintermourne crew."
"This whole job has too many red flags. Why don't we talk to Tarika about other buyers?"
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"Any chance you can do better on the 10 ship voucher price for the hearts?
As you say goodbye to Rishae, she frowns wistfully at Jaraduk. "Too bad, Nuar hearts fetch a fine premium. Let me know if you change your mind on that one." She winks a fiery wraith-like eye at the rest of you. "That offer goes for the rest of ya, I'm always taking more corpse leases." She waves goodbye, adding "For new friends like you, let's call it 8 Ship Vouchers for the cargo. After all, I wouldn't have them without Tarika's connection. Good luck finding a better engine, let me know if you need my friends to put her in for ya."
You spill out onto the dark street, the hustle and bustle of Absalom Station seeming peaceful after the chaos of the club. You walk by the undead nuar mercenary half passed out in the gutter, drunkenly cuddling his dog. Once you get to a more private location, you call up Tarika.
The brenneri picks up, still in the eoxian port judging by the zombies carting limp bodies behind her. "Another crew? That's wild! I expected it would be weeks before another crew would take on the job, its a pretty unique one. I guess that high payout attracts talent! Well, those corpses I hooked Rishae up with still put you in the running if you wanted to go for it." Tarika gives you a cheeky smile. "After all, it's a hobbhound eat hobbhound world! And if you got there late I'll just find you another buyer on eox or somewhere. They wouldn't pay these high prices, being on the planet of death, but you'd get your money back for sure." Her eyes twinkle with her usual positivity. "After all, you've got the best agent in the whole darn galaxy! I'm so good, I even found you a side job! A shirren businessman is offering 300 credits for a crew to hand deliver a special briefcase to Vesk-2. That would like up real nice with the other job, if you wanted to take them both. Wouldn't be worth it to fly all the way there for that small sum, probably why the job is still open. But hey, think of it like a tip!" She chuckles, obviously proud of herself. "But, if you're not comfy with this job that's alright. I'll look over the boards for some other work, maybe a one-on-one job this time. Sounds like you have a few days to think about it anyway. Enjoy the city! Let's get dinner tonight. I'll meet you at the Haan's Head in two hours." You all start walking towards the Haan's Head, only a few levels down, and discuss Strek's idea for giving the ship surgery. The debate over certain portions of the ship to keep or toss gets a little heated but you enjoy the opportunity to make a ship your own, for the first time.
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Less than an hour from when you left the club, as you all slowly make your way to the restaurant, the lucandrian with the glowing eyes tracks you down! "Oye, Bullseye Shippers!" Rishae suddenly cuts you off in the street, striding purposefully towards you with a look of fury on her face. “That two-timing, double-dealing, swindling… ice-miner! She’s ripped me off! That whole time she and her witchwarper sidekick had me chatting upstairs, their pilot was stealing the black hearts from my own storage yard! And you. You!” She pokes Guess? with her index finger. “Jackman, you and your crew are going to help me get even. I don’t have your necrografts, but I know where you can get them. I don't need any profit, I need them to pay!" She pulls out a datapad, not letting you get in a words edgewise. The datapad shows a map with an inset picture of a seedy looking warehouse. "Rygan Vuul runs a necroforge in the Sparks with all the equipment to make what you need. He moves crazy fast, and has an absurd amount of capacity. Word on the street is that he keeps the place running 24/7. He's quite the personality, his cult worships him as a living god or something. I stay away from him, he gives me the heebie-jeebies. I'm not normally in a rush to get product turned. But y'all sort of are, especially if you're going to stick it to those product stealing miscreants! Besides, Rygan's priorities aren't exactly the same as everybody else's. Maybe you can persuade him to cut you a deal.” She side eyes those of you who were hesitant about the body-contracts. "One that doesn't involve the rights to your flesh." She paces in a circle as you discuss the opportunity, mumbling to herself. "Two decades of deals thrown out the window... all for ten measly ship vouchers... albino-looking little mouse... Wintermourn, more like skagholebourn..."