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On a rooftop in Downlow, a short figure takes a long hard drag of a hand rolled smokable and exhales with a cough, "Some of the weakest hyper I've had the misfortune of inhaling." He spits and drops the roll in it then swipes it all behind him with his foot.
He looks down at the street and see a lone figure walking under the lamp post. "Alright, time to make a cred and get topside for this mission."
He turns and hoes to leap off the side of the building into the ally and the thrusters from his new jump jets kick on, slowing his fall to the ground. He runs along the wall to the corner and peek around to see the figure getting closer. He can tell from the distance that it is a creature of average height, perfect for his size and he ducks back out of sight. The visor on his helmet clicks down and the two red lights in the eyes flicker on. His hand moves to the small of his back to pull his knife and he takes a deep breath.
The figure walks by and Mute makes a quick movement of the knife to the bag on the creature's back. He cocks his head to the side and looks behind him to see his knife had no impact on the bag and the creature, a large half-orc looks back at the little halfling, "Damn you little cutpurse!" He yells.
"I'll have you know, sir..." Mute stands for full height, flipping open his visor, I am more than just a simple cutpurse. I'm also a knee kicker." He he moves to stick the steel of his tabi shoe's toe into the green mans knee and turns to flee, cursing under his breath, "Stupid cut resistant bags. Gonna have to earn my drinks tonight the legit way." He jets back up to the top of a building then from building to building on his way to the elevator back to the topside of Absolom Station, on his way to his mission.
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“Hello, Starfinders! Lovely to be working together again, don’t
you think? And I see some new faces, too. How exciting!”
The white ysoki drums her nails on the steel desk in front
of her and grins at her visitors. “For those I haven’t met, I’m
Datch, one of your Society’s contacts. I hope you got the fruit
basket I sent. That was harder to arrange from a holding cell,
but I do hope we can put any old grudges aside and complete
this mission together. Essentially, a contingency plan I had
set up in the past when we weren’t on such good terms
might cause trouble for AbadarCorp if we don’t do something
about it soon. Specifically, I left some nasty technomagical
code in the Golden Vault’s security mainframe that’s going
to lock them out entirely in a few weeks. You can override
it, of course, but you’ll need four separate passwords I’ve
left across the galaxy to do it. I’m prepared to share that
information with you as an act of repentance for my past
actions.”
Who are you?
for AbadarCorp. Your Society made things rather difficult for me
a while ago. That’s all right, though, because it gave me a chance
to pursue other goals, like helping you prevent mass confusion
and economic damage in the Pact Worlds!”
What happens if we don’t cooperate? Datch tilts her head
thoughtfully.
Vault’s lockdown, everyone with an account there will try to
withdraw their credits at once. That could have ramifications
for the system’s economy, and cause chaos on Absalom Station.
AbadarCorp has deep pockets, and I’m sure they’ll find a way
to break my code and remedy the situation, but that will take
time and cost a lot of credits. Then, if AbadarCorp figures out
the Starfinder Society knew about the problem and didn’t offer
assistance, say through an anonymous tip, that may cause strife
between your organization and theirs.”
Why are you cooperating?
repentance for my regrettable history with your organization.”
Why should we trust you? “Are you prepared to gamble with
the Pact Worlds’ economy? If not, then I’m your best option.”
What’s our mission? “It’s simple. Retrieve the four passwords,
and I’ll stop the lockout from happening. Here’s what you need
to know about each of the four locations.”
What else do we need to know about this mission?
like a venture-captain?” Datch chuckles. “Living is dangerous.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and don’t
forget to pack clean socks.
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An android dressed in purple & green freebooter armor with a cowl, steps forward, "This one is Option-8. If one's understanding is not mistaken from your words, you are not quite repentant. You know the chaos and strife your malicious code will produce yet you leave us no choice in the matter. If we do not provide assistance, then your anonymous tip creates further strife for the Society once the lock out commences. If I am not wrong this seems to be what is called,... blackmail."
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Appearing from out of no where and under foot as usual, Mute jumps up to the cell and removes his helmet. Shaking out his long unkempt red hear and patchy red facial hair, he leans in close to Datch, "The real Datch! Boy do I know several beings that would like to get their hands on your scruff. Specially my android friend, he's still very miffed on how you hacked Guidance and messed with the Society's training program...for a moment though, I really thought the tin man actually grew feelers."
He chuckles then tries to reach in for a handshake, speaking loudly enough for the others to hear, "Name's Reticent Stroidjumper. But you, my sweet Datch, may call me Mute. If I may have a moment of complete honesty, you quite so happen to be my favorite reoccurring character in these spinning balls of rock. And if it be possible...if you ever get time out of this li'l box, I'd like to take you out for a drink and a bit of debauchery..."
He stops for a moment to think then continues with a revelation, "Though it seems to me, my sweet, that we cannot do such thing if I'm dead. So more on the robo-man's question." He motions over to Option with a wink, "Can you confirm for your dearest Mute that what you tell us is true and we can disable this calamity without further harm to our persons?"
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"If I am not wrong this seems to be what is called,... blackmail."
"Tsk, tsk!" scolds a bleachling gnome that has recently arrived on the scene. "You should be ashamed of yourself! Where I come from, it is simply called 'mail'. After all, when it comes to posts and parcels, I for one, don't see color!"
The suggested color blindness would only partially explain the gnome's unusual appearance. Typical of bleachling gnomes, the man's hair is as pale as his skin. Atypically, however, his accentuated with a few green highlights. More noticeable, however, is the makeup on his face, which is smeared across his face, framing his gloomy lips in a crude, crescent shape reminiscent of a smile.
"As for you, Datchey," he continues, turning his attention to the ysoki. "I've heard all about you and your lengthy litany of misdeeds!"
The bleachling glares at the ysoki for a few moments, then adds with seeming admiration, "Quite the impressive resume, actually!"
"The name is Farsurrwag--some call me the 'Bleachling Who Laughs'!" he cackles gleefully.
The gnome gives the ysoki a deep, respectful bow, then his look at her turns suddenly to a glare of suspicion. "But, there is one thing about your apparent scheme here that doesn't make sense. You are the former Archdirector of Security for AbadarCorp. You have mixed your paws into the economies of several planets amidst the Pact Worlds. Why is it, then, that you have called upon the Starfinder Society in order to try and avert an otherwise nigh certain catastrophe?"
"Not even would place trust in an organization that displays such low standards that it would accept as a member!" With this pronouncement, Farsurrwag throws back his head in a bout of uncontrolled laughter.
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Just before the meeting datch, Dr. Kliktikiti is using her communicator speaking to two others shirren that are in Absalom stating in their language.
The doctor has a nice white lab coat put on top of a preserver’s mantle, with plenty of medical equipment in her pockets. She’s got some basic pistol, a needle pistol and a baton.
She moves to meet Datch, remembers her capture. She’s listening, wondering if that is true or if she’s trying to get vengeance on the Society.
After Reticent’s talk, the shirren gives her opinion “I’d rather keep her under bar for now.”
Then she waits to see the reaction from all that are doubting Datch’s honesty.
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Mute spins around wide-eyed at the sound a shirren speak and looks right at Kliktikiti, "Ah, Doctor Klicki. Never thought I'd get to see your mug again. How the hell are ya, mate?" Mute jets over to shake the doc's hand then bounces back over the Datch and puts his hand to the side of his mouth to whisper, "This one is a slight bore at times. But you get enough fromian 'shine and lashunta rum in her and she will click you to death with her medical non-sense." He giggles and turns back to the doc to shoot a wink.
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"As for you, Datchey," he continues, turning his attention to the ysoki. "I've heard all about you and your lengthy litany of misdeeds!"
"Misdeeds come come...I call them opportunities! Now Starfinders! I'll sent you a message with your first mission!"
The message comes through:
“Hi Starfinders,
I really do want to help you and AbadarCorp with this little lockout problem. Since I’m stuck in this cage, you’ll need to visit Embroi
and retrieve an encrypted password from a file from within Anthellon Station’s submarine computer banks. The file is saved on a
computer with a demonic screensaver. I’m confident you can find it!
–Datch”
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"I apologize for being late. I had an encounter with an enraged half orc. He was yelling something about a 'Green Shrimp' trying to slash his bag and getting kicked in the knee."
Irres raises an eyebrow at Mute's lack of focus, and sees what she can find.
She tells the party what she knows, and then finds the same meme as Mute.
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"As I recall, the locals here requires visitors to register a name and purpose at customs," notes Farsurrwag. "If we want to be discreet, then we may want to fabricate some new identities. I've always fancied the idea of being a morlamaw."
"If you doubt your skills at forgery and disguise, I could poke you with a needle," offers the bleachling, holding up a needler pistol. "Or, if you prefer, I suppose I could even inject you with one of my performance enhancing biohacks!"
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Option-8 glances over at Irres, "Is that related to a Star Shrimp. Cannot be a Mantis Shrimp as they are too large to easily navigate here. Anyway, concurrence with our newest" he pauses slightly, "Elven associate. Perhaps introductions are in order. Obviously, you know our monitored former Archdirector of Security for AbadarCorp whom some still hold in high esteem, Datch." He directs his hand to the Ysoki. "Our assembled group consists of Farsurrwag," he directs his hand to the Gnome, then continues, "Reticent Stroidjumper," redirecting his hand to the Halfling, "Dr. Klicki," calling him that since Mute called him by that name & further redirecting his hand to the Shirren, then points to himself, "myself, referred to as Option-8." He directs a hand at each the Dwarf & Elf and asks, "How may we address the two of you?"
"As for documents, I can create those or assist someone else who may be more skilled or have better knowledge."
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When Option-8 incorrectly says her name, she gives a bad look toward the halfling then addresses everyone telepathically “My name’s Kliktikiti. I am a physician.”
Concerned about getting in trouble by lying about her identity, she tells the others “Do we really need to hide our reasons to be there? Do we think getting at that place to get the password would not get us in trouble?”
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Mute freezes at the mention of an angry half-orc then plays it off cool by approaching the dwarf, "Well, I don't think you'll wanting me to call you 'love' the whole adventure. You can call me Mute." and he sticks his hand out to shake Hagitha's.
After that, he turns to the gnome, "I uh, have never had to disguise myself before. Not that I'd want to hide these luscious red locks but if we need to be incognito, then I may need some help with that.
He turns around to look at the group as a whole. "Hmm, not my usual affair but I think this team will make due. Shall we be going." He stops before he heads out and turns back to Datch, "Don't you go anywhere, my sweet. I'll be back for you."
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With help from Option-8 and Irres you're able to get false IDs. But you know that you're required to stay with a tour group on this devil run world. tourists. Heavily armed security guards stationed at regular intervals throughout most areas in the facility actively prevent tourists from wandering away, and restricted areas are protected by locks and security cameras.
- - - - -
Traffic bustles ceaselessly, embri commuters whistle to each
other, and waves batter the coast. An airlock door cuts off the
odor of brine, sliding shut and muting the city’s white noise.
Inside the submarine’s iron-tight belly, seating fixtures are built
of uncomfortable but economical metal and plastic. Portside
windows face the settlement’s skyline, which is lit by lavender
morning hues. On the starboard side, the ocean crests beneath a
periwinkle sky.
Deep beneath the waves, crystalline deposits emit a faint
glow, revealing the subaquatic landscape. Spiny shells claw up
cliffsides, and feathery plants beckon with undulating fronds.
A shark darts past the view port, its exposed belly a streak
of white. The shuttle rounds a peak, and an underwater
city emerges into view, its clustered buildings connected by
transparent tubes.
Within an hour, the submarine releases its passengers
into a dry lobby with frigid air that tastes of salt. Featureless
ceramic panels line the floor and ceiling, creating an expanse
of white. Many identical passages lead further into the station,
too curved and deep to see where they go.
Twin embri clad in matching masks intercept the visitors..
The masks’ cartoonish googly eyes and painted grins make
it impossible to read their true expressions. They speak in
falsely cheerful voices: “You are here for You are here for the guided tour of this facility. Come with us.”
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"You do provide interesting or enlightening information about points of interest, do you not. This will be quite dull if you just walk us through to the end. If I may ask, what do your masks represent?" Option-8 tries to judge how focused the guides will be on the tour or on us.
The embri ignore Option 8 and take the party down a hallway with no security guards. The embri stay quiet.
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Mute happens to glance up to notice the cameras then slows down to try and hid in the figure of one of the embri guards. Tugging on the collar of his jacket, he switches on his comms to the group and whispers, "You all ever get the feeling you're being watched? Sadly this is such one of those situations and I don't like it. Stay sharp..."
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The embri ignore Option 8 and take the party down a hallway with no security guards. The embri stay quiet.
"Oh? Quite the chatty one, eh?" Farsurrwag comments to the guide as he keeps an eye out for the computer in question.
Spotting the cameras, he looks at one directly. He fakes a smile and comments towards the lens, "If you think you've captured my good side, then I'm afraid your quite mistaken. Indeed, I'm not sure that I have one! Neither the inside nor the out!" The bleachling releases a sniggering laugh.
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The shirren has no idea how to hide herself so she tries instead to take the attention, and starts asking plenty of questions “What can you tell me about your planet?” She follows up by various questions on the inhabitants, expecting no answers, staying a bit away from the others that might be more discreet than she is.
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The shirren has no idea how to hide herself so she tries instead to take the attention, and starts asking plenty of questions “What can you tell me about your planet?” She follows up by various questions on the inhabitants, expecting no answers, staying a bit away from the others that might be more discreet than she is.
"Its on the video!" says the Embri.
Mute easily makes his way apart from the group.
Option-8 will also try to distract the Embri by going over to the east door and attempting to go through. He says out loud to the Embri, "You stated you were providing a guided tour yet have not told us a thing about this place. Oh, what is in this room."
"Please watch the video!"
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"Sodding cameras, worst invention ever." Mute exclaims under his breath.
Mute hunkers down and slowly moves under the camera, grasping for any shadowy area he can find but tries to make his way to rooms with the computers, "Lightly and without noise, Ret. Mum would be mad if I slipped up now."
[dice=Stealth]1d20+15
[dice=Perception]1d20+8
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Hmm, no way around it...hold on a tick... Mute stops and produces a kit from his bag. He starts whistling and walks by the camera to the computer room. When her gets about a few feet away, he presses a button on the kit and the thing deploys a blind made of energy to scatter the light around the door facing the camera.
Right on, let me see if I can get through this.He then pulls his mini-computer and connects it to the door panel.
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Irres pulls a data pad out and begins taking notes. As she does so, she tries to send Mute tips on how to hack the camera.
[dice=Computers]1d20+7
Irres is able to help Mute open the doors to the room and they slide open.
Cords and lavender circuitry line the machines and outlets in this
room, casting everything in shades of purple. A thick, transparent
shield stands between three massive observation telescopes and
computer workstations connected to them by tangles of cables.
Screen savers guard their contents.
The most striking of the screen savers depicts a horned
creature against a midnight background. Rosy fins sprout from
the end of its tail, and frills climb its spine, ascending to a pair
of wings. Two arms end with hundreds of worms for fingers,
some longer than others. Its scales shine cobalt-blue, but not as
brightly as its glaring, lidless eyes. Bared, needlelike teeth form a
smile that splits its snout in half.
"This video is all a rather dull, if you ask me," mutters Farsurrwag. The bleachling pats a pocket holding a smoke grenade. Leaning towards the shirren, he suggests, "Give me a holler when it is time for a smoke break."
The guide turns to the Bleachling. "Sir there is NO smoking allowed on the grounds of the facility!"
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Since the Embri did not stop him, Option-8 continues through the door into the next room.
within this facility.
The tour guide looks around. "Where did you gray skinned comrade go? It looks to the back room. "Excuse me! That's not a registered area!"
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Mute basks in the purple glow of the computers, contemplating the image of the screensaver. Hearing the guide from the other room, he connects his computer to his comms to loop in Irres as he connects to the terminal, "Alright, my pointy eared love. I've queued you in as it seems you know your way around a digital landscape and I want to be done with these boring shadow slugs. What you say that we get to work and maybe we can share a pint afterward." ;)