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Jaraduk, who this whole time has been feeling down about their options and not particularly optimistic, suddenly lights up. He smiles and pats his grenade launcher.
Now that, is interesting... When a contract partner goes rogue and turns to theft, all bets are off. Any idea what the security detail is at this warehouse?
The nuar is suddenly pumped and in planning mode.
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"look, we're only responsible for the people our goblin robs while the goblin is talking to you. And that's barely. Anyone ELSE that robs you while the goblin is talking to you is definitely NOT our fault. Also, you should probably watch the M word and DEFINITELY shouldn't pop out at people like that we've had a rough week...."
Guess? looks at Kreech and says, "Aw hell. I swear this guy will come in handy someday."
Guess? will hail a taxi, purchase a bottle of spirits for him (as promised) and have him sent home. Guess? will also send him a note saying:
'Hey buddy! Was a kickASS time hangin' with you at the Revenant Urge! As promised, here's your bottle of bloodbrew. I'll reach out when I get a line on some veal for you. Like I said, if you ever need items transported, let me know. And hey, if your employer is ever looking to move something, give me a ring - it'd be awesome to do business side-by-side with the great Kreech Nakkan! By the way, I'll probably be on station for a couple more days, so if you plan to head out partying, lemme know where, yah???'
When time allows, Guess? will research and hit up contacts to find out if it is legal and possible to obtain some Barathu veal - as well as the price for such an item. Considering how often she deals with dead bodies, perhaps Rishae herself has some info on such an item.
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"Well, if you can really find a buyer, even one that's not as profitable, I suppose we can keep going down this path. Tacking on a few side jobs like the briefcase will give us something... And something is better than nothing!
"Any idea what's in the briefcase? Anything illegal or hazardous? If yes to either, then perhaps we can get a better price for transporting it??"
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Sharing in Jaraduk's improved mood, Guess? remarks, "Like my nana always used to say, 'Revenge is a dish best served while profiting on the side!' Okay Rishae, we'll go meet this Rygan guy. Anything you can tell us about him? Personality traits? Likes, dislikes? Negotiating style? You say he's got a cult? And what do you mean by his priorities aren't the same as everyone else's?"
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Akh listens to Tarika's new job about delivering a briefcase for 300 credits and immediately starts pondering what might be inside that can't be transferred digitally, but also is valuable enough that someone would be willing to pay for a courier service for it. It didn't seem as immediately risky as some of the other jobs recently, but it still seemed strange. Maybe it was a memento of some kind.
When Rishae tracks the group down, Akh nods slowly "Oh, that's really unfortunate. I hope my bad luck didn't rub off on you..." He ponders her suggestion and adds "Rygan. Is that the contact you were going to tap before to make the necrografts? If so, why don't you want to deal with them any longer, and are instead sending us to them directly. I would have guessed that he would trust and give better deals to someone he has an existing working relationship with than strangers, yes?"
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Guess? shells out 5 credits for a mid-tier bottle of the eoxian ale and a robo-taxi ride home for the drunk mercenary. The nuar mumbles his thanks and flops into the back of the vehicle, his skeleton dog hopping in behind him. The goblin takes some time researching barathu veal, only to confirm his worst fears. Barathu veal is a highly illegal product made up of the meat of an early stage - baby - barathu. The sentient denizens of Bretheda have adaptable tissue capable of rewriting their own dna. According to a few of the shadier sites, the product is sought after for it's flavor and texture that changes throughout the meal and is only served... fresh.
Tarika shrugs. "No clue what the product is. Can't be too expensive, or they'd offer something more valuable in trade - like Ship Vouchers. But the gentleman assured me it was perfectly legal!" She scrunches her furry nose. "Though we've been told that before..."
Rishae looks at Akh intently. "No... I only dealt with Rygan once, years ago. I go through more traditional necro-factories now. Takes longer, but at least I don't have his underlings trying to convert me every five seconds." She waves her hands in the air dismissively. "But lots of people use his services, that's how he got so rich! He's fast and he can get it done. Besides, he's probably the only way you'll be able to get revenge on those backstabbing cheats." She frowns, then answers Guess?. "Well, word on the street is he wants to use the power of necrografts and undeath to live forever. He's charismatic, in a way, collected a group of followers who want to follow him into immortality. Full of himself, that’s for sure, and big on protecting his image for his cult.” She takes a deep breath. ”Thing is, he’s all about supporting himself and his group. He might prefer a favor to a pile of credits or ship parts.” She shakes her head. ”I don’t know too much about him personally, he gives me the ick. Not my preferred business partner, but that’s probably a me thing.”
To Jaraduk, she smiles slyly. "Hey, I won't ask how you're going to get the grafts, just that you screw the Wintermourn. Security will be pretty loose; most folks aren't incentivized or interested in stealing a bunch of organs. Though stigmatized, these are just medical supplies. In a way. The employees, or cultists as I like to call them, will be there. Maybe some undead workers with a couple defensive implants. Not much, it's a factory at the end of the day."
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"I mean how immortal? If you don't want to keel over at the ripe old age of 30 well they have vitamins for that. Mom's mentioned living through something called "the 60's" and we worked it out once and her police record aside there HAS to have been more than one of them
Del scrunches up her nose. "Well, this day went from bad to worse." She considers her surroundings and their current predicament, then shakes her head. "Actually, scratch that. There's no way this could be as bad as our last two missions." She thinks, for a moment, of her sister's face and a far-too-recent explosion.
"So are we resolving theft with some more theft, here? Or what?" She crosses her arms and considers. "Whatever we do, I would like to look into the stolen Drift engine after. I used to race starships, you know. I miss going fast. Plus it's, you know, practical. It's a work expense. Yeah, definitely. In fact, so is a better kitchen! ...We probably need to save up for some improvements on that though..."
After getting thoroughly off track with daydreams of turning their starship into a mobile bakery, she snaps back to the present. Seeing how interested Jaraduk seems in a counter heist, she smiles gently. "You're glowing. What are you thinking?"
Jaraduk considers Del's suggestions and glances over at her, adding Better auto-chef? Maybe one that knows fusions!
Hmm, favor. So he's going to give us a "task", and we just hope it's not too grim. I suppose... as long as he doesn't ask us to join the cult.
Then she mentions pre-gap and Jaraduk perks up again.
Pre-gap?! Are you sure. If so I might have some questions for this fella...
Hmmmm... barathu veal... Well, Kreech is gonna have to wait a while on that one... ponders Guess? as he uncovers the sordid details behind the delicacy.
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"Sold! We'll take the briefcase! How much damage can such a small package possibly cause?" grins Guess?.
Guess? then glances over at Melissa and the grin disappears. "Hmmmm... well, we'll do it anyways!"
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Guess? says to the party, "Alrighty! Sounds like first we meet this cult leader. Then we meet some goblins and upgrade our engine!"
Guess? turns to Rishae and with an air of gravitas, says, "By the way, if you're really serious about revenge, I'd suggest you look for additional ways to get back at them. Cuz I hate to break it to ya but even if we manage to beat them to the punch on this job, they'll still do well for themselves.
"They stole those black hearts from you, which means they incurred zero expenses acquiring their goods - aside from loss of your goodwill of course. But they'll eventually be able to find a buyer for those hearts and even at a reduced price, it'll be all pure profit for them. At the end of the day, they've made money.
"This sets a bad precedent cuz how many other cargo haulers will begin thinking that they can take advantage of you? That's bad for your business. What's the solution?
"Well... we happen to know a pretty kickass merc. Truth be told, he's tied up with a job right now BUT with the proper incentives, you... we.... may be able to enlist his services to hunt down that Winterbourne crew and extract a price sufficient to preserve your good name and prevent any future would-be scum from scamming you again.
"Have a think about it and let us know. We're always at your service!"
Guess? bows deeply to Rishae.
Guess? turns to the rest of the party, mood changing instantly from one of gravity to light-hearted cheerfulness and says, "Alrighty! So we ready to head off and crash a cult?!? Hey, maybe we'll convince a few folks to follow us cuz, y'know... weak-minded cult followers!"
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Going to look up groups that help deprogram cult members. And after a few clicks will run the search again with -android -literal programming and "therapyy"
"I don't care if they follow you home you CAN"T keep them. Start off with a tribble or something and we'll see if. ACK. Out of the mines for a week and I'm turning into my mother..."
"I'm ready. Just know that cults can give me tha heebie-jeebies. They're like spiritual pyramid schemes. An' I'm not good at hiding my dislike for them."
"Hmmm..." Something in Rishae's story doesn't seem quite right to Akh. Didn't she say earlier that she could get the black hearts for the group within a few days? That would mean she had a fast contact, one different than Rygan, if she was to be believed. He voices his concern "Do you have someone else who is fast at producing these black hearts? Because negotiating with an immortal cult leader sounds quite dangerous."
Once Rishae is gone, he says "I dealt with a cult once in my past job. The one we dealt with was quite unpleasant, but thankfully tended to at least be reliable. Or at least consistent. Hopefully this one is the same. Not the unpleasant part, but the reliable part." He answers Del's comments with "I don't think we need to steal anything, just beat the thieves to the buyer. But..." He ponders for a moment "...even with Rishae's backing, we would be making an enemy of the Wintermourne crew by doing this. And they seem quite happy to ruin others with little remorse. I'm not sure if that's a wise move for us."
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Rishae's light blue skin blushes at Akh's question. "Well, my normal factories in the Spike tend to convert corpses in a five days or so. But they don't have much capacity, 50 tons worth would take at least a week. And..." She avoids eye contact with the intimidating android. "I sort of sold the bodies from Harlequin's Prayer to Vuul on the way to find you. I was mad and sure y'all would go along with the whole revenge thing." She winces, realizing she limited her - and your - options a bit with that move. Rishae changes topics quickly, responding to Guess?. "True, they were feeling especially bold with this move. Must have been low on credits. I'll spread word among the local dealers, they won't be getting necrografts on Station anymore. But there's a lot more cargo out there than this, I'm afraid." She frowns. "I'm not big on conflict... I'll have to think it over. Keep the fighter's info for now. I'll give you a ring if I need it."
You say goodbye, heading over to the factory. As you walk, Melissa researches. Once she manages to focus her query she finds a number of rehab facilities for those magically or traditionally indoctrinated. One of note was Tranquility Rehabilitation Center. A series of artificial islands in the Marixah Republic, the facilities house both condemned criminals and voluntary inhabitants for "mental reprogramming to better rejoin society". You notice an entire section of islands are dedicated to prisoners of war from their conflicts with the Gideron Authority.
You hail a robo-taxi to the Sparks neighborhood within the Spike. And industrial area, it is entirely filled with warehouses, factories, and Station machinery. The address Rishae gave you takes you to Singularity House. The small building has all the hallmarks of an engineering bay, intended for a small tech-based business. The exterior is almost entirely covered in flyers advertising the cult. They include slogans like Want to live forever? Inquire inside!, Liver going out? Drink your eternal life away with a necro-graft!, and Don't put your stock in a mortal. Rygan Vuul, immortal, will lead you to the future!. A flashing neon sign's light illuminates the block, Rygan Vuul's Augmentation Shop and Temple of Infinite Existence. Some alleyways seem to wrap around the building.
You enter the wood double doors, a soft bell chimes, and you step into a waiting room. The entrance is flanked by small plants with blood-red flowers and segmented leaves that resemble finger bones. On the opposite wall, a computer with two large screens displays promotional videos and a user interface. When touched, the interface displays text. Welcome! Identify yourself. If you have an appointment, your name will be called shortly. If you do not have an appointment, press HERE to record a message for the Eternal Rygan Vuul. You notice two security cameras watching the room as well as one wood door leading further into the building. There are definitely blindspots, if you are sneaky enough.
Jaraduk walks through the wooden doors and takes in the lobby.
Hmm, nice cult center. Feels very... clinical.
Then he spies Melissa burrowing into the wall.
Wait, what?! Not a good first impression!
"Very clinical. Sort of a different flavor to the Kalistocrats, but a similar meal." Akh moves over to stand in front of Melissa so that his bulk hides her from the view of the security cameras. He continues "Do we mention we know Rishae? Now that I think about it, she could have given us a referral, or something."
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:)
Guess? hits the button and starts recording, "Hi there! My name's Jackman and our purpose here is two-fold. One is practical. We're interested in acquiring a large quantity of necrografts and were informed that no place produces quality as good as Rygan Vuul's Augmentation Shop and Temple of Infinite Existence. Rygan Vuul's products are the best of the best!
"Our other, greater purpose here is spiritual. We've grown disenchanted with the world of living mortals and seek guidance. Guidance that only a wise immortal such as Rygan Vuul can provide. We seek a like-minded community such as the one that the Temple of Infinite Existence has grown and nurtured. Or to put it simply, we desire the opportunity to suckle the milk of enlightment from the teat Rygan Vuul's teachings.
"And so it is for these two purposes that we humbly request an audience with Rygan Vuul himself."
Once done, Guess? turns back to the rest of the party with a huge smile and proudly flashes a thumbs up. "Who's got this? Guess?!?!"
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"Or to put it simply, we desire the opportunity to suckle the milk of enlightment from the teat of Rygan Vuul's teachings."
Guess? attempts to strategically stand in the proper spots to assist Melissa's attempts at staying out of sight.
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While Guess? records his message, Melissa sneaks around the room while others distract. She nibbles on the wires, cutting the camera feed. She moves over to the computer, but is unable to hack in. Guess? gets his message recorded. Awkward moments pass, with light instrumental music playing in the background.
Strek steps up now that the cameras are off and you have more time, working the terminal. He cuts through the firewall, finding typical administrative data. The only item of note is an email marked Important. It is from Otan Saema, owner of the Harlequin’s Prayer. She expresses her admiration for Rygan and his work, showing interest in his "organization". She invites him aboard the ship for an all-expenses-paid cruise to connect and discuss the future. It appears Rygan received the invitation a month ago, and he accepted. Their cruise was scheduled to leave two weeks ago.
About a minute after your message is sent, the speakers set into the wall crackle to life. A soft and preening voice speaks in whispered tones. “Welcome. Come to the display necroforge, and I shall show you what immortality looks like.” The door, whose lock Melissa was just working on, clicks and swings open invitingly. The room beyond is a small, bare alcove that contains two 10-foot long holographic recovery units.
These small chambers provide recovery simulations to promote healing for surgery patients. Both are empty.
The door beyond is also swinging open into a cramped chamber with an overhead robotic arm with an integrated lamp and medical imaging devices, all located on a track above a surgery table littered with implements and spattered with blood. It appears this is where Rygan Vuul performs his operations. A pair of double doors leads into the center of the building.
Jaraduk stands back from the inviting doors, peering in suspiciously.
Um, did they mean to show us the operating room? I guess immortality does look like a surgical transition to undeath...
He carefully inches forward, checking out the surroundings in the first chamber before proceeding towards the operating table.
"Oh, room full of nightmares, not going in there," Del remarks without thinking as she glimpses the operating room. "Uh, I mean, yes, immortality sure looks great and safe..."
She eyes the others with a look that clearly says, In there? Really?! which is quickly replaced by a look that says, After you.
Del sticks to the back, following the others so as not to obscure their view or anything. She's considerate like that.
"It appears he also runs a set for movies, based on the overly dramatic blood splatter. Either that, or he and his followers are incredibly lazy." Akh coughs "Not much room in here either. No one seems to build anything correctly." He takes the lead in moving forward, not at all uncomfortable around the bloody display.
Strek eyes the blood splatter. "Practical. Cuz if you're not put off by the blood, the brainwashin's easier."
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You notice more security cameras in this room, their red lights still blinking unlike those that Melissa deactivated in the lobby. Most of you notice a dermal stapler and a standard battery lie on the surgery table. While Strek and Akh take in the room, the remainder of you notice that one of the storage lockers' door is ajar. Within you notice two tier 1 analgesics, two tier 1 antibiotics, two tier 1 coagulants, and two tier 1 excitants.
Eager to get out of the nightmarish room, Jaraduk and Akh push open the double doors to reveal a massive room. You immediately notice a circle of eight 10-foot-long translucent glass capsules, each containing a corpse. A large forge-looking device takes up the center of the room.
Overhead screens display images from the building’s security cameras; you notice two of these displays show crackling white noise.To the north, a garage door and, to the east, a wooden door lead out of the room. A pair of power generators stands against the east wall. The ceiling is 25 feet high, but rafters 20 feet above obstruct the top of the room. The room is dim, only the light from the machines filling the space. An elebrian stands alone in the room, four magical yellow lights dancing around his head to provide illumination for him. As the doors open he claps his bleached white hands and smiles widely. "Ah, new applicants to eternity! Come in, come in! This is my display necroforge, where I like to show my disciples the wonders that await them." He walks around a capsule, his hand trailing behind atop the glass. The four yellow lights follow him, bobbing in the air. Pausing to stare the corpse in the face, he continues. "I'm ushering a new class of entrants into the immortal next stage of their life right now in fact. But fret not, the utility and beauty that a good necrograft can give is in many ways superior to that of un-life." His smile stretches the tight and aged skin of his face, outlining the muscles of his face. "But first, to business! Then we can discuss the many other opportunities within my temple of life everlasting." He taps a display on the wall and the lights turn on, washing the room in surgical white light. The four magical lights wink out at the same time. "Sorry for the mood lighting, I find it helps my disciples focus on their work. One of the many benefits of necrografts can be dark-sight, after all! But enough about me, your message mentioned you were looking for a large quantity of necrografts!" He waves his hand to the equipment in the room. "You've come the the right place, darlings! I have the largest and best equipped necro-factory this side of Eox. Most of the equipment is below ground, in the lower levels, with my apostles, followers, and less religious employees." He grimaces. "Not all of my neighbors are as accommodating and progressive as you and I. They find my work... distasteful. So it is best to keep it out of sight, yes?" His stretched smile returns and his whispery voice continues. "I am the only forge on the Station advertising the minimum turn-around for necrografts - 2 days! And they'll be made with love, after all quality is next to holiness! Most of our work is for followers of the Temple of Infinite Existence, so we're able to shift the production schedule to benefit our not-yet-converted customers." He pauses, pride filling his eyes. "Now, what is it you're looking for?"
When you explain that you need 50 tons of Black Hearts, Mk1, he purses his lips. "Yes, easy enough darling! In fact, it is your lucky day. I just came into possession of an immense amount of raw materials. Yes, I could have that done for you in two days. No need to provide the corpses yourself as so many of my customers do." He pulls out a datapad, crunching some numbers. "Now, our normal price for an order like this is 8 tons of ody arts." He sets the datapad down, steepling his fingers together. "Of course, there are other ways to pay for things in my line of business. Tell me... Have any of your considered offering your body... for science?" His eyes narrow in anticipation. "I have several experimental prototype necrografts that need testing..."
Akh advances right into the room, stepping to the side so the rest can come in and see the... display. As the "elebrian" speaks, he looks around at the vessels and then at the speaker, wondering if this is all part of the same show as the blood splattered operating room. It did seem a bit over the top, but Akh doesn't know the first thing about necrografts. He lets the others start the negotiations, but asks in between "Yes, we are looking for necrografts... but everyone seems to want us to turn our bodies over in exchange." He taps his body with a claw "I don't know how much I'm worth, but probably not much to necromantic science. Do you have any... cyber... grafts? That need experimental testing?"
He also asks "We saw your operating room on the way in. Was that bit for show? I hear fleshy people have to worry about bloodborne diseases."
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Rygan twirls in place, hand curled in the air above his head. His airy voice carries through the heavy silence of the room. "Ah, but that is the beauty of the necro-graft! Unlike the inferior biotech augmentations, these can even be applied to Android and SRO customers!" He bows, completely self-absorbed. "And you, my large friend, would be quite the opportunity to test my XXXL organs." He fans his fingers in front of him, as if to accentuate the opportunity. "Those in my profession do tend to value the flesh of our customers as well as their credits. It is, as they say, the circle of life." As he speaks, he draws a circle in the air. Just behind his finger appears a line of flickering red light that seems to pulse in power with his words.
Rygan Vuul is likely a technomancer! He just cast Token Spell, and those four lights that danced around his head when you entered the room were Dancing Lights.
He purses his pale lips at the mention of the operating room. "You are more insightful than you appear, dragonkin. Yes, you are right about the show. This building serves multiple purposes: temple to my holy pursuit of immortality, factory to further advance and produce necrografts, and humble necrograft installation specialist's office. For the third, most customers expect a certain amount of gore and horror to be involved." He shrugs. "All stereotypes, of course." This assurance is somewhat lessened as he stares lovingly into the eyes of the corpse within the glass capsule beside him. "But the customer is always right! My orderlies clean the table before we operate, of course." His smile returns and he locks eyes with you in a completely-not-at-all-creepy way.
Jarduk frowns and picks at his ear as he tries to figure out the flamboyant man. He steps further into the chamber with Akh.
Yeah, so, the cul-... "worshippers." He gives a dubious look before continuing. Let's get real, are they just potential... flesh stock? I mean, honestly it's genius.
"Is it genius?" Akh looks over at Jaraduk in surprise. "Having devoted allies seems more useful than just a few loose necrografts."
He turns to Rygan "Well, you're clearly a smart business person. The whole immortality thing seems a little beyond us, since we're just traders after all. But you've got a good thing going here. Even the theatrics. Very nice. As for your offer of an XXXL organ, it depends on what you have. A dangerous, experimental tongue with an unlicensed number of tastebuds would be... very interesting to me."
Del lingers near the back, drawing forward only when there's room to approach.
"Yes, I'm afraid I'm not for sale or interested in modifications. You've skill with magic, Dr. Vuul. Tell me, do you find technomancy to be a boon in your line of work? I've always associated the study more with cybernetics."
At Akh's request for a new tongue, Del looks shocked, but then stamps down her revulsion. Who was she to judge? Just because she didn't want anything augmenting her body, didn't mean her friends wouldn't.
While she talks, she circles around the room, looking at the glass pods with curiosity and listening to see if she hears anything odd from beyond the door beside her.
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Rygan Vuul's eyes open wide, crinkling his taut skin. He points to Melissa in delight. "Yes, that is right! Several are ghouls. Very handy, those tongues." He spreads his arms out wide, gesturing to Akh to come closer. "How very interesting... I was going to offer you a supercharged mk 1 undead adrenal gland. But perhaps I could whip something up special just for you." He reaches up and starts feeling around Akh's jaw. "Say AHHHHHHH!" The corpsefolk steps back. "I could create an enervating tongue for you. A little long, sure, but it suits your body type." He grins. "But a normal enervating graft isn't good enough for a special customer like you! No sir, I'd SUPERCHARGE this with a little something extra." He taps on his datapad, getting more excited by the second. "Yes, in addition to it's normal health draining properties... this one would help you balance!" His eyes shimmer at the prospect. "And imagine the new and deeper flavors you'll enjoy! A longer and more fleshy tongue for you, my metal friend!" Mr. Vuul spins in place, his black cloak floating behind him. "Now the rest of you may be interested in my other adrenal gland. It's oh so special to my heart." On light toes, he quickly walks around the room in a circle and makes eye contact with each of you. "In addition to making you immune to the effects of mortality and death itself it also grants immunity to cold and poison!" He ignores Del and her rejection, instead focusing on the rest of you. "Imagine... from the Temple of Infinite Existence you could gain immunity from the basest of mortal pains for one minute a day..."
He pauses by Jaraduk, waving a finger. "Ah, so cynical! Ye of little faith..." He pauses, for effect. "Of COURSE! Those who prefer the tender embrace of necromantic surgery will donate their bodies after death catches up to them, to be used for the betterment of the temple. And those who have made the leap of faith into the arms of undeath will continue to work in my factory for centuries to come." He puts his hands below his chin in a mockery of innocence. Behind the pair, Del listens through the door. She doesn't hear much, other than the mechanical breathing of industrial vacuum pumps. Del is startled by his voice directed at her. "And yes, my doubting sarcesian, it is quite helpful! These god-given powers not only delight my customers and followers alike, they are critical in this work." He pats the glass capsule twice. "Necromancy isn't like the bad ol' days you know. Takes a lot of technology to keep productivity up! Efficiency, efficiency, efficiency. So it's more of a hybrid techno-mysticism in factories like mine." He frowns. "The old guard don't like the new ways but they can go back to their Pre-Gap ways for all I care."
Guess? spends ten minutes working down the technomancer, improving his demeanor. Rygan looks you up and down then smiles. "Yes, you know what? I like you all! And I sense some future converts down the road!" His jaw drops in an open mouthed grin. "If Mr. Big Bot agrees to take on my experimental 'graft, I'll throw you the 50 tons of Black Hearts for free." He claps his hands once then points at Akh accusingly. "But you need to send me weekly reports on any unexpected ... uh ... symptoms!" He shrugs. "You never know, you know?" Once he gets the agreement from Akh he leans back against a capsule and looks you all over. "The supercharged adrenal gland option is still available for any of you, I'd even throw some Body Part vouchers your way to sweeten the deal. Surgery is 4 hours, recovery is 8 hours, then you'll be good as new!" He pauses awkwardly long, hopeful. "Now, I can convert those bodies in two days flat. What do you say?"
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Jaraduk nudges Strek. Uh, you want to make sure the mods don't have any special trackers or negative side effects? This guy seems too eager...
Del cuts in for a moment, "Presuming the subject is willing, of course," she looks to Akh for confirmation, then turns to Rygan and continues, "Might I inspect the necrograft before installation? Hands off and under supervision, of course! I've never seen a real necrograft 'in the flesh,' so to speak."
"That's very generous - I would get a special combo necrograft and we'd also get a whole shipment's worth of necrografts as well? All in exchange for reporting back? I might have been awakened recently, but that doesn't sound right to me. You are expecting the new graft to have problems?" Akh looks over the technomancer. "Also... None of what you mentioned sounds like it'll help improve the taste of anything. In fact, it sounds a little bit like something people would think was gross!
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Rygan huffs in indignation. "Gross?! Of course SOME people will think its gross, but we socialites don't need to bow to the whims of the intolerant! " He pulls up some photos on the overhead monitors of some ghouls and mohrgs with outlandishly large tongues. "Does THIS look GROSS to you?" He crosses his arms, certain he's made his point. He taps on his datapad, bringing up a data sheet. "No problems, no problems. I mean, all medical innovations have some side effects. But who knows, perhaps they will be perks! A certain blood pressure pill comes to mind..." He snaps his fingers twice and you see movement from the rafters above. You look up to see another undead floating down from the ceiling! The torse of a human man has been fused with a floating hover pad. Tools seem to have been inserted into it's palms, and pipes carrying fluids dive in and out of its body. It floats down to a cabinet, opening it and pulling out two containers. The... thing moves to Vuul's side, eyes glassed over. "Don't worry about this little guy. One of my favorite disciples, still assisting after his untimely death. Saving his mind was beyond my skill at the time, a shame." He smiles gently and waves Del over. "Well what are you waiting for, check them out!" Del cautiously looks the organs over. One, a small adrenal gland, practically glows with necromantic energy. The other, a four foot long tongue, has clear magical properties and bends slightly at the touch. They do appear different than other necrografts, almost containing as much power as the more expensive Mk2 grafts you've seen. Rygan is telling the truth, they are definitely one-of-a-kind artifacts and are likely significantly more powerful than a typical cheap Mk1 organ.
Guess? nods along, confident that the necrograft salesman is telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Rygan pats Akh on the arm. "This is a great deal for both of us! You get the benefits of this state-of-the-art necromantic augmentation and I get to avoid the expensive fees charged by those gangsters over at the Sentient Testing Review Board." He beams, standing with both arms out. "What do you say, pal?"
Mr. Vuul shrugs, nodding to Del. "Of course, sentient subjects do need to fill out the paperwork saying they are consenting adults acting of their own volition. If you're not willing, I can part ways with the Black Hearts for only 6 Body Part vouchers. Just remember me for your future business, eh?"
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Guess? looks at the images of large tongues and chimes in with his opinion, "Y'know Akh. Those are really, REALLY cool!!! I mean just look at how they twist and turn and slobber! Wow! That's a steal!
"And honestly, I think they WILL enhance your sense of taste. Well, more like expand than enhance! I think that supercharged tongue will let you eat stuff you normally can't! New flavors to savor! Oh yay me! I just rhymed!"
Guess? addresses Rygan, "I like you. I really do. And your operation here is... well... charitable AND magnificent! I think we can definitely get a deal done here! Let's lay out the possibilities, shall we?
"Option 1: Akh here accepts one of your supercharged, totally legit, completely awesome custom necrografts. In return, he gives you regular status reports, we get 50 tons of black hearts and you'll even throw in a few more Body Part vouchers our way. Correct? A couple questions here - How long is Akh required to keep the necrograft? And are there options for future upgrades - as I'm sure your undead necro techno science will advance over time, amirite!?!?
"Option 2: We purchase the black hearts for six body part vouchers. Simple as that!
"WELL! I've got a couple propositions for you! Y'see, I've got some ins with a few of the local goblin movers and shakers on the station. In fact, we'll soon be drifting over to some of them to discuss other matters. HOWEVER, I can confidently say that my brethren would certainly be interested in what you've got going on here. Let's say I round up a few volunteers for your supercharged necrografts. You may get not only one but a half dozen - heck a dozen volunteers! And even if they're not quite suitable for your necrografts, I'm confident that once they hear about the good work your doing, you'll get some new followers!
"So proposition 1: Let's say we get you some goblin necrograft volunteers and/or followers. That'll be worth the fifty tons of black hearts, amirite?!?!?
"And here's another proposition for ya. Honestly, I'm no stranger to necrografts. In fact, " bellows Guess? suddenly.
Switching back to his normal voice, Guess? winces a bit at the not-quite-convincing demonstration but explains, "Vampire voice, y'see? I'm a bit out of practice using it but neverthless, pretty nifty, eh?
"But the point is, I'm a big fan of necrografts. So if you've got anything by way of experimentally supercharged crypt marrows, shadow nerves or maybe wraith motes, well then I, Jackman, am your goblin!!
"So proposition 2: If you have any necrografts along those lines and I take 'em, perhaps you'll throw even some more additional vouchers our way? Whaddaya say??"
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Rygan nods along with Guess?'s explanation. "Yes, so many tastebuds from so many races. All inside your mouth! I'm told a filet mignon is absolutely heavenly post-operation." He hands over the datapad that now displays a contract. "Standard sentient testing contract here. You use the graft for 1 year, providing weekly reports on your symptoms. After that, you can choose to keep it or I'll remove it. Both free of charge! Though you would need a replacement organ, necro or otherwise..."
Anyone trained in Medicine could remove a necrograft using a medkit, medical lab, or medical bay on a starship. Of course, your original organ is removed during the necrograft installation so it's removal may have some impacts on your life without a proper replacement organ.
A Mk2 necrograft costs 4,000 credits. Breaking this contract would not put you high on a bondsman, bounty hunter, or law enforcement priority list.
The corpsefolk holds up a finger as Guess? explains option 1. "If either of you want to try out my SUPERCHARGED necrograft, patent pending, then I'll give you the Black Hearts for free. If both of you want to try them out, I'll throw 2 Body Part vouchers to sweeten the deal." His eyes widen at Guess?'s reveal of the vampire voice. "Ah, a fellow seeker of the eternal! Welcome, welcome!" He slaps the undead floating servant on the back of the head. "Go get this man some tea! Can't you see we have a VIP in the building?" The creature doesn't react to the blow, just turning silently towards the door at the back of the room. "Seems like your graft may have been a knock-off, my friend. If you ever want to upgrade to a Mk2, you just give the Temple a call. As for the goblin volunteers, I would be interested." He squints, thinking. "Yes, that would be acceptable. If you convince some goblins to volunteer for Sentient Testing, I'll give you the Black Hearts. But don't bring no feral ones in here! I need goblins that can write and be trusted to report back!" He pauses, obviously trying to contain some more racist rhetoric. "They must be up to my high standards!" He smiles softly. "Of course, fresh bodies are also appreciated. If you happen upon any dead goblins, there would be some credits in it for you." He claps his hands. "Shadow Nerves, you say? Well, I was saving these for a particularly loyal acolyte of mine's unbirthday. But I suppose an e-card will suffice." A second floating torso descends from the rafters above, holding a gift wrapped box. Mr. Vuul waves his hand and the wrapping is torn away, despite the man being several feet away.
The technomancer used Psychokinetic Hand!
Beneath the wrapping and within the box are a few strands of black nerve cords on a silver piece of tissue paper. "Who wants to jump 10 feet when you can jump 15? You wouldn't believe what I had to do to force the extra bit of shadow energy into these bad boys. But they were worth it!" Rygan waves Guess? towards the torso holding the necrograft. "What do you say, Jackman? And you, android?"
Del watches the rapid-fire bartering between Guess? and Rygan with little interest—they sounded just like her parents and she was exceptional at tuning them out. Instead, she continues her circuit around the room, peering into the various glass pods.
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Del looks into each pod, seeing a different body. The corpses belong to all races, genders, and creeds. The only thing that joins them is... death. The northwestern wall is made of an odd material, like a hazy blue glass. When Del casually leans up against the wall, she manages to see through it! Beyond the mirrored window is some sort of control center. It has a centralized desk with a single computer console and a few file cabinets. The desk chair is situated to look into the display necroforge.