Sparks is grateful for a good night's sleep, knowing the fledgling group has worked well together and accomplished something important not only for the group but for the larger actors of the station.
At breakfast, he breaks the news that he has been offered and has accepted an opportunity to become a product representative for Solar Dawn Foundries.
"Not unlike my own good fortune friend, congratulations!"
"Let's set up some ways to keep in touch since our different jobs will soon be taking us in many different directions. We should continue building the friendships we have established."
Frustratingly attempting to eat both his flap jacks and his hot fudge sundae at the same time, Dirk gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Let's set up some ways to keep in touch since our different jobs will soon be taking us in many different directions. We should continue building the friendships we have established."
"Sparks, I could not agree more. Good thinking."
Once breakfast is done with, Sparks suggests a trip to the Lorespire Complex to give a report on the murder of Durevor Kreel.
Sparks has cleaned himself up after the events of the previous night, wearing the suit he packed specifically interviews and other official meetings. He wears a nicely tailored suit, brown fabric embellished with embroidery along edges of a kind of knotwork patterns with blue thread interspersed for a flowing water motif with silver fish emblems set with mother of pearl inlay. His shirt is white with obsidian studs and cuff links to match. He has modest jewelry, a bolo tie, sunburst belt buckle, and a holy symbol of Saranrae pin on his lapel. A little cologne completes the process.
"Let's go!" he calls to the others once he emerges from his room to head out.
Zemfira was relieved to be bringing real evidence to light as a result of their gangland adventures. The dark underbelly of the station was turning out to be very dark indeed. She wondered with some discomfort how much worse it would get before their investigation was done.
She followed suit with Sparks, dressing nicely in her fancy duds. "Right behind you."
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Having (mostly) been successful in his dual entre breakfast experience, the Three eyed Dirindi meets up with Sparks, Zemfira and Zephyr.
So, any other leads that involve us owning a second business?
"I plan to be pretty busy with my new job. I'm not really an entrepreneur," Sparks says.
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Considering the time and the proximity, a leisurely walk with a notification sent ahead would see Chiskisk ready to receive you upon arrival. Using a Rebu would see the same result, just with less time spent on-foot. With the events of the night behind you, there is undoubtedly a relief that many of you may not have had since your arrival put you in the middle of a shootout between two gangs. One potential silver lining is that without this occurring, there were levels to Absalom Station that you may not have gotten a chance to see— never mind that the desire to see them likely would not have surfaced, either.
The avenues approaching the Complex were broad and well-maintained, lined with carefully tended gardens and planters bursting with vibrant flora from numerous worlds. Here, a vendor’s cart displayed neatly arranged samples of rare minerals and gemstones, each one accompanied by informational holodisplays detailing their origins and properties. Across the street, a popular eatery specializing in interstellar pastries had a line spilling gently onto the sidewalk, patrons chatting amicably as enticing aromas wafted from its doors.
Shops and businesses catering to both Starfinder agents and curious visitors dotted the area, their façades blending modern, sleek designs with welcoming aesthetics. A tech boutique displayed the latest navigational tools and compact surveying drones, while an adjacent bookstore showcased shelves stocked with data crystals on astrophysics, xenobiology, and historical accounts of expeditions into the Vast. Between these establishments, a small plaza provided benches and shaded alcoves where visitors and workers alike paused to enjoy a moment of respite amid the morning’s productive energy.
At the heart of it all rose the Lorespire Complex itself, impressive and commanding yet inviting in its architecture. Its smooth curves and angular spires symbolized the spirit of discovery and forward-thinking ambition that defined the Starfinder Society. As some approached its entrance, a few slowed their pace slightly, taking a moment to appreciate the Complex as a tangible embodiment of shared purpose and endless possibility, preparing themselves mentally for the missions and explorations that awaited within.
Sparks does nothing to hide the childlike awe in which he holds the area. He takes his time soaking in the ambiance and contemplating how fortunate he is to be alive when he can be at the center of the exploration of the Vast, not to mention to begin to take part in that exploration, albeit as a lowly functionary.
Dirk Gently stumbles every few steps as the group traverse the Lore Spire Complex of Absolam Station for the initial allowance of time. Absently dabbing a bit of mustard off his tie (the excited and nervous Dirindi has been eating vendor acquired eats as the group traverse the Lore Spire Complex of Absolam Station), the wide-open Three eyed Dirindi gawks (and occasionally gags as the particular eats was not properly chewed) at all the marvelous artitecture, artistry, and Air Jordans available at an unexpected inexpensive account.
Meandering and deftly maneuvering around, in-between, (even had to leap frog a pair of Halfling's walking their cat), the grinning and chewing Holistic Detective purchases a I've been to the Lore Spire Complex of Absolam Station T-shirt on their way to report to the Starfinder Society this morning.....
The automatic doors to the Lorespire Complex slide open easily at your approach, the SensorSuite pinging your visible comms and immediately forwarding the notification ahead to Chiskisk and the receptionist, as a GuideLine makes itself known. The path is much the same as you had tread before, the similar offices that you pass heading deeper into the complex itself distinguished only by the decorations of the occupants, or lack thereof. The office of Chiskisk is opened to you by an aide that joins your path and closed just after you enter. The cluttered office follows its own order, and at your arrival, the Shirren bids you sit in the various seating that has been arranged for you, along with a small tray of Nutri-wafers and water globes.
"Greetings, and good morning. Your message of information regarding my request and the hoṕ̷͎e that the motive b̴̯͗ehind Durevor b̴͔̆eing killed is a comfort. Results as swift as you have oḅ̷͐tained is a credit to the b̵͈̂adges you b̸͙̓ear and the decisiveness with which you have acted. You have not only my thanks, b̴͕́ut my gratitude."
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"Thank you," Sparks offers on behalf of the group. "I suspect I speak for everyone when I say, 'What's next?'"
Entering the offices of the Starfinder Venture Captain, Dirk Gently smiles warmly at the Shirren, takes a seat, sees the small tray of Nutri-wafers and water globes, stands back up, reaches out and takes the tray, sits back down, and plucks a tasty treat.
Delicious! As our esteemed colleague has so elegantly requests. What is next? I am willing to continue to investigate this murder and multitude of mishaps, mischief, malevolent mayhem.
The Holistic Detective plucks another treat.
Really tasty.
Chiskisk looks both flattered and heartened that they are being looked to for next steps. A Shirren equivalent of a shrug with their antennae and gesture with their hands demurring the determination displayed by Dirk. "Next is all of you taking the ̴̹̈́ḃ̴͍reak that you were p̴͖͒romised. It is troub̴͎͌ling that Astral Extractions is going this far to keep the Starfinders away from the situation with the Acreon and Drift Rock. Further p̶͙̏ursuit b̶̠͛eyond this evidence comes too close to corporate influences without p̵̪̊rop̵̭͝er legal rep̷̩͐resentation. What you have found cannot be ignored, b̸̬̾ut it is outside of my department. Ab̵̝̃salom officials will take this further."
Their tone and body language says that they are not ecstatic at the outcome, but it is far better than the position they were in two days ago. "The Starfinder Society would be elated to have agents of your calib̶̗͝er involved with whatever you choose to p̷̩͐ursue. You need only ask. In the meantime, take the next few days, at the very least."
Sparks thanks Chiskisk and waits to see if anyone else wishes to talk to the official. He's ready to go exploring the station or maybe checking with his new employer to see if they have any assignments for him.
Dirk Gently stumbles his current attempt to procure a tasty treat at the Venture Captain announced dismissal of further investigation.
To be fair, I feel like this merits continued pursuit.
Understanding the drive to follow the thread to its end, Chiskisk acknowledges the Dirindi and his determination. "It does, and it will. At this p̶̼̚oint, the information will b̶̳͋e b̷̝̿rought forward according to the laws of Absalom station, with the evidence p̶̬̋rosecuted and the case judged." A shift of antennae belies their dissatisfaction. "...Eventually."
That admission is ground out and their professional demeanor cracks momentarily.
"To follow this higher is to p̵̐ͅlace unwanted illumination on yourselves. I would not rule out attemp̴͆͜ts to make your injury or deaths seem as if an accident, should you make yourselves enough of a nuisance. I do not recommend, endorse, or condone such a p̵̤̐ursuit without sufficient cause and b̴͚̉acking."
Understanding the drive to follow the thread to its end, Chiskisk acknowledges the Dirindi and his determination. "It does, and it will. At this p̶̼̚oint, the information will b̶̳͋e b̷̝̿rought forward according to the laws of Absalom station, with the evidence p̶̬̋rosecuted and the case judged." A shift of antennae belies their dissatisfaction. "...Eventually."
That admission is ground out and their professional demeanor cracks momentarily.
"To follow this higher is to p̵̐ͅlace unwanted illumination on yourselves. I would not rule out attemp̴͆͜ts to make your injury or deaths seem as if an accident, should you make yourselves enough of a nuisance. I do not recommend, endorse, or condone such a p̵̤̐ursuit without sufficient cause and b̴͚̉acking."
"In that case, we should take our leave with profound gratitude for the trust you placed in us; we will await further word at your convenience."
After the meeting, Sparks explores the shops and parks around the complex and visits the temple again before returning and checking his in-box for messages from Solar Dawn Foundries. Until something specific suggests itself, he will continue to explore the station and spend a little of his share of the credits on some improved gear.
Dirk Gently looks a bit forlorn, but the Three eyed Dirindi meets Zephyr's suggestion with a turned frown upside-down.
Tipping his hat to the Venture Captain, Dirk stands a takes his leave (still holding and munching on sweet treats)....
Once outside the offices, the excited Holistic Detective begins to fawn at Zephyr.
Brilliant! So we continue to investigate it ourselves and once we crack the case we present it to the Venture Captain for funds! Absolutely brilliant!
The happy Dirindi offers his company a tasty treat.
Departing from the Lorespire Tower sees at least a recommended downtime for everyone before you could be expected at any of the contacts in the Starfinders Society. At least at the moment, there is no threat that you are aware of, and the freedom to look around as you might like has any tension that you might have been feeling drain away. you have the hotel room for at least a week, to say nothing of however long Durevor has his place. In the center of the Universe, anything is possible.
Another text follows the first from the Level21 contact, along with enough to give everyone 250c.
- - -
"Astral Extractions vs. Hardscrabble Collective: Quarantine Delays Critical Salvage Hearings"
(Court Battles Escalate as Both Parties Push for Resolution on Acreon Rights)
"Midnight Truth Hosts Anti-Drift Rally: 'Protect Ourselves from the Unseen Dangers!'"
(Conspiracy Theorists Rally Against Growing Use of Drift Technology, Citing Hidden Threats)
"Absalom Station Crime Statistics Spike: Experts Blame Lack of Resources for Understaffed Security"
(Lower Spire Districts Call for Additional Patrols as Gang Activity Soars)
"Elysium Holdings Set to Launch New Resort Station in the Diaspora"
(Luxury Facility Promises 'The Ultimate Escape' for Wealthy Travelers)
- - -
Two Days Later...
Upon waking, your trip out of your room finds a messenger waiting for you by the front desk. Immaculately dressed and composed, they proffer a folded and sealed invitation that is printed on paper that is as black as the void of space, with the pressed seal a bone white. Classy in the contrast, curious in the circumstance, if not the delivery. The imprint on the seal is able to be recognized by Dirk as the symbol of the Exoian Embassy, and the message inside is a request to meet with "His Excellency, Gevalarsk Nor", the Ambassador of Eox.
Message delivered, the courier bows neatly and strides out, precise and composed.
Dirk Gently busily secures his tie, straightens his trusty hat and tests the elasticity of his suspenders. Smiling at his appearance in the mirror, the Three eyed Dirindi finishes his morning preparations before departing his temporary lodgings at the nice, if cost efficient motel procured by Zephyr.
Having received his invitation to procure his standard PR package set up: Influencer account, pre-recorded voice promos, holo-measurements, the basics of his virtual model, and a standard public "intro" set up, while not necessarily grueling, but involved and occasionally tedious, it did allow for the Holistic Detective to finally finish level 2 of Donkey Kong. Also further good fortune, he got his choice of color for the drone cam, and VI personality for his calendar!
He chose Fuchsia and Zo!
Walking out of his appointment at its conclusion, Dirk text the Level 21 crew representative back a smiley face.
A mere 12 minutes later, the Holistic Detective can be seen eating tacos standing at a taco cart, while reading the recent news of the Infosphere.....
Munching on his third taco, Dirk absently daps at his chin. To the taco cart vendor he inquires
Ever hear of Elysium Holdings? Sounds like a great investment...
Dirk Gently busily secures his tie, straightens his trusty hat and tests the elasticity of his suspenders. Smiling at his appearance in the mirror, the Three eyed Dirindi finishes his morning preparations before departing his temporary lodgings at the nice, if cost efficient motel procured by Zephyr.
Having received his invitation to procure his standard PR package set up: Influencer account, pre-recorded voice promos, holo-measurements, the basics of his virtual model, and a standard public "intro" set up, while not necessarily grueling, but involved and occasionally tedious, it did allow for the Holistic Detective to finally finish level 2 of Donkey Kong. Also further good fortune, he got his choice of color for the drone cam, and VI personality for his calendar!
He chose Fuchsia and Zo!
Walking out of his appointment at its conclusion, Dirk text the Level 21 crew representative back a smiley face.
A mere 12 minutes later, the Holistic Detective can be seen eating tacos standing at a taco cart, while reading the recent news of the Infosphere.....
Munching on his third taco, Dirk absently daps at his chin. To the taco cart vendor he inquires
Ever hear of Elysium Holdings? Sounds like a great investment...
Walking up behind Dirk, excited to get his mouth into a taco, the Castrovelian Castigator exclaims: "Great investment!?!? You have NO idea my friend ... they're genius! Remember how I said I did some tutoring on the side during school? Bunch of rich kids, and sometimes their parents? Yeah, well, details aren't important, BUT, there was this one time, and wow, being a "plus one" does not always suck. I went to the opening of one of EH's first properties, like 4 years ago. I was underage ... well, to drink I mean, but the place was beyond spectacular. Makes that awesome place we were booked here on the station seem like a trailer park, or "cart park" or whatever they would have called it on old Golorian."
"OMG, we should call our companies! Maybe we can do promo spots there! During the opening!!!"
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Sparks joins the conversation holding the invitation from the Exoian Embassy, his face pensive.
Hearing the enthusiasm for Elysium Holdings new resort announcement, he says, "I don't know why but when I read about that, I had a bad feeling. Not sure why. What about this invitation to the Exoian Embassy? Mysterious but that just makes me curious."
15-0-10 holds the invitation in its primary tail's manipulators, head tilted at an angle in an expression of curiosity it had been trying out recently as it read the paper again. Paper! What a strange thing to see in this day and age. No doubt there was some sort of connotation to the use of paper, but what it was, its observations of various cultures weren't sufficient to even hypothesize.
One neck joint creaked slightly as it righted its head upon finishing reading the invitation. Its information was also insufficient to hypothesize as to the reason behind the invitation and why 15-0-10 had been a recipient of such an invitation.
It was, however, quite curious to find out what it was all about.
Giving its recent memories a quick review, and its small rented room a swift inspection, it sees no reason to delay further, and so trots out to make its way through Absalom Station towards the Eoxian embassy. As usual, it kept to the walls as it walked, both to avoid errant feet of those not used to looking down and to provide itself with a good vantage point for observing the ever-curious activities of the station's inhabitants.
Looking forlornly at the recently dropped partially eaten taco on the ground at his feet, Dirk absently nods at the sudden (although always welcomed) appearance of Zephyr.
Dropped my taco.
Three blue eyes of the Dirindi blinks rapidly at Sparks, as the Brenneri begins prophetic promises of purpose and possibly even production!
What day is it? What's in these tacos? What invitation?
Absently reaching into his pants pocket, the bewildered Holistic Detective pulls out a slightly crumbled envelope (with a bit of smeared marmalade on it) out, views it's authenticity and nods.
Exoian Embassy. Smells like marmalade.
Dirk quickly orders two more tacos....
The route into Parkside carries a quiet weight compared to Absalom Station’s more bustling districts. Broad, well-kept avenues wind through green spaces, their carefully cultivated trees and manicured lawns giving the neighborhood an air of wealth and restraint. The artificial daylight panels overhead bathe the area in warm radiance, yet as one nears the Eoxian Embassy, that warmth feels more like contrast than harmony. Other embassies along the avenue display vibrant banners, holographic emblems, or airy, inviting gardens, but the looming silhouette of the Eoxian compound breaks that rhythm sharply, a bastion of stark severity amid its neighbors’ more welcoming façades.
The embassy itself comes into view abruptly—a structure of imposing black marble and pale limestone, its vaulted angles rising like the ribs of some long-dead leviathan. Vehicles slow as their occupants instinctively take in the disconcerting architecture, the bone-colored trim catching the light in a way that seems too organic for simple stone. Where other embassies have balconies or wide windows, the Eoxian façade offers only narrow slits, like watchful eyes peering outward, and heavy archways that feel less like entrances and more like mouths waiting to consume the unwary. Small clusters of pedestrians linger at a respectful distance, either curious onlookers or uneasy travelers giving the building a wide berth.
As the vehicle draws closer to the drop-off point, subtle details become apparent: intricate carvings etched into the marble, depicting funerary processions and skeletal motifs; sepulchral lanterns flanking the drive, their steady glow casting pale shadows even in full artificial daylight; and uniformed Eoxian guards standing motionless at the outer gates, their frames tall and unnervingly still. The hum of the vehicle seems muted here, as if the embassy itself absorbs sound, leaving only the faint echo of tires on polished pavement. The Parkside neighborhood continues beyond, pristine and affluent, yet in the immediate orbit of the embassy, the atmosphere is unmistakably one of solemnity, dread, and formality.
From more official and public sources, however, the Eoxian Embassy maintains a carefully curated profile. Publicly, it is a formal diplomatic outpost serving the Eox official government, handling trade negotiations, citizenship affairs, and cultural exchange programs for Eoxians abroad. Records available through the Infosphere stress its “practical role in fostering understanding,” highlighting partnerships in fields such as biochemistry, void engineering, and energy recycling. Yet even these curated documents rarely dispel the unease that clings to the building. Few outsiders have business inside, and those who do often emerge with terse expressions and little to say, reinforcing the sense that while the embassy is undeniably a part of Absalom Station’s international fabric, it is also a place best avoided unless absolutely necessary.
As transit happens in a very large black Rebu, Zephyrr telepathica;y relays all of this information to his colleagues so that they will be completely up to speed. The Castrovelian Castigator captures culture like no one's business!
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When Dirk, Sparks, and Zephyr arrive at the Eoxian embassy, they notice a small robot sitting on its haunches not far from the entrance they're headed towards. It's quadrupedal, with a vaguely animal-like head--a long, narrow muzzle with metallic 'teeth' in its mouth, a mismatched pair of triangular ears (one shorter and wider, the other taller and narrower), and similarly disparate camera 'eyes'. Its four legs are also varying in appearance. It also has two 'tails', one thicker with a handful of patches of scraggly gray false fur clinging to it, which splits into a trio of manipulator tendrils, one of which looks to end in another camera. The second 'tail' is far more slender, though it similarly splits into a pair of manipulator tendrils at the end. Its casing is patched, pitted, and in many places has obviously had segments replaced. Its flanks have a few small solar panels integrated into its casing, and the symbol of Sarenrae is painted (rather inexpertly) in flaking golden paint on each side. But perhaps most interestingly, a familiar mote of light dances between the two tendrils of its smaller tail.
It stands as it sees the approaching trio of solarions and lifts said tendrils, shaking them in what might be supposed to be a wave. It opens its mouth and a voice that sounds very like that of the young protagonist of an action holovid from last year emerges. "Oh! Three fellow solarians! I wouldn't have thought I would see something like that here! Hello fellow solarians!"
Steadily savoring the droppings from his top hastily eaten tacos, the three blue eyes of the Dirindi blinks rapidly at the stark contrast of decor, ambiance, life once their Rebu parks outside the Eox Embassy.
Anyone got any crayons?
Suddenly the Holistic Detective jumps in his seat, smacking his cranium on the ceiling of said Rebus!
Yes. Good information, Zephyr.
Frowning at the lost droppings from his tasty tacos littering the floor of the busy Rebus, Dirk exits.
At his immediate egress from the most popular Rebus, the Solarian sees a lost puppy, playfully and politely pronouncing their intimacy with Solar stuff.
Turning about in a complete circle, the now grinning Dirindi saunters toward the friendly fellow. He stops at a friendly distance of 5 feet.
An inquisitive look appears on Dirk's face, as he studies the friendly robotic not a dog.
Do you? Need service?
The small robotic creature tilts its head to one side, creaking slightly as it does so. Its voice this time is so obviously robotic it must be a deliberate choice. "I am perfectly capable of self-maintenance, no assistance is required."
Its voice swaps to 'excitable young human' as it gets to its feet. "Thanks for the offer, though!"
It swaps its voice *again* to something like a stereotypical 'grizzled detective' voice while beginning to pace in front of Dirk. "Four solarians meet by the Eoxian embassy like the last rays of light through a smog-choked sky. They say two's a coincidence and three's enemy action, so what does that make four? I'd worry the answer involved being buried, but I knew no one would bother with a coffin for me."
And now its voice swaps to another clearly synthetic voice, but a much less monotone one. "Actually I doubt it's anything so dramatic, but I do wonder--you got a mysterious invitation, too? What would the Eoxian embassy want with us?"
Sparks greets the solarian robot (?) or animaldroid(?), unsure what to expect and a bit confused by the different voices.
Sparks had time to do a bit of research on the embassy but did not feel it gave him much more than a sense of foreboding. Still, he doubted the embassy would stage any controversial actions when dealing with the influential Starfinders, so he tucked his misgivings away and tried to remember to not judge another until giving him/her/them/it a chance to demonstrate his/her/their/its values.
Dirk Gently looks absolutely ecstatic at the small robotic creature! The Holistic Detective begins taking out his note pad, pencil and plastic pouch filled with coffee.
There is most likely a conspiracy afoot. We need only connect the proverbial dots to unmask them!
Writing furiously in his note pad, Dirk's blue eyes peer intently at the small robotic creature.
And where were you while all this occurred, good sir or madam or not.
Dirk sips from his baggie (with his pinky held high)...
Throughout the exchange, the guards at the gate— set a respectable distance back from the road to observe the Absalom-standard habitation planning of allowing for neutral space before zoning of the grounds– remain unmoving. Displayed on AR modules and set into the ground, there is a wide band of what appears to be calcified stone of some sort, that outlines the perimeter of the Embassy grounds. Past the line and towards the embassy, the ground changes from "Absalom Station" to a flat, black material, bereft of detail and greenery. The path to the doors is etched into the ground, artistically detailed much like the carvings on the walls, though it would seem to be a creation of some landscape, perhaps culturally relevant.
The guards at the gate only move once you approach, crossing that pale stone band, lowering their weapons to symbolically bar the gate. While ornamental, the guards in the proper dress uniform, they and their equipment seem quite functional. The query for your purpose of visiting comes not from the guards vocally, but from a small orb drone that rises from the top of one of the gate columns. The lines of its form hint at a skull of some kind, with the allowances for its purpose. The similar skull on the other column has not moved, but it is unlikely that it is just ornamental.
A message arrives on your comms, displayed much like the Embassy itself. Dark and somber, the text has the design of respectful observance, though those of you that have audio for your messages hear it as a deep and sonorous reading, the texture absent and echoing.
>[Visitors to the Eoxian Embassy, please state or present your reason for coming]
At the presentation or mention of your invitations, the gate starts to swing open as the guards return to their previous position and the drone returns to the top of its column, a pale GuideLine fading into your awareness leading into the Embassy itself.
Zephyr smiles, none of this was out of the ordinary.
Now.
All these year ... after the Gap.
But if the stories were to be believed, back in the day, pretty much no one would have tolerated an embassy of the undead in the middle of a city. Yes there were rumours of a country on old Golarion which had been ruled by undead creatures, but now, Eox was Eox, and this was business as usual.
"Seems like it's showtime Starfinders. Shall we proceed?"
Dirk Gently looks absolutely ecstatic at the small robotic creature! The Holistic Detective begins taking out his note pad, pencil and plastic pouch filled with coffee.
There is most likely a conspiracy afoot. We need only connect the proverbial dots to unmask them!Writing furiously in his note pad, Dirk's blue eyes peer intently at the small robotic creature.
And where were you while all this occurred, good sir or madam or not.Dirk sips from his baggie (with his pinky held high)...
The small robot stops its pacing and says, "ERROR: communication misunderstood."
It switches voices to a somewhat feminine, slightly acerbic tone. "Unless you're thinking of a conspiracy happening in broad daylight, I don't think that's the word you're looking for now. Solarians aren't usually hired for subtle."
Its voice softens. "I just think this will be an interesting job offer or something. Maybe we can talk as we walk?"
15-0-10 starts trotting towards the entrance. It says in its more robotic tone, "I do not possess or require a gender," in partial answer to Dirk's second question.
When challenged at the entrance, it pops open a small compartment in its casing and reaches in with one manipulator tendril to withdraw its invitation and display it.
Absently dabbing at some recently spilled coffee on his tie, Dirk nods conspiratorially at the small robotic genderless animal thing. The Holistic Detective winks.
Quite right! Nothing to see here. Definitely not any investigation into any supposed conspiracy. Nope. Anyone have any splitzer?
As the group approaches the guards, the guards block their way, the robotic skull interviews them and press releases, invitations are presented and paths open; the not subtle Dirindi proceeds along the shown path.
So clean in here. Should we take off our shoes?
And now its voice swaps to another clearly synthetic voice, but a much less monotone one. "Actually I doubt it's anything so dramatic, but I do wonder--you got a mysterious invitation, too? What would the Eoxian embassy want with us?"
"We only recently arrived and have spent our first days here investigating an incident which apparently concerns this derelict spaceship everyone is talking about and some rock that is supposed to be aboard it. We're also associated with the Starfinders and all attended the same academy. Would your invitation possibly be connected to the Starfinders or the academy? That's the Attelan Star Academy, by the way." He introduces himself and the others in the academy group. "What do we call you?"
Sparks consciously makes himself smile and give a curt bow of respect as he shows his invitation. Just like entering any other embassy, he tells himself. Just another Pact World. Mentally, he whistles a cheery tune to keep his mood from descending into lock step with the dark environment.
His internal mental tricks work for now and he maintains a positive attitude.
Despite its funereal aesthetic, the embassy functions with quiet precision. Administrative counters are set behind pale stone partitions, where Eoxian clerks—undead or augmented to the point of lifeless stillness—handle documentation with methodical efficiency. Holo-displays flicker softly over their desks, casting shifting glows across skeletal features and empty sockets. The air carries a faint chill, sharpened by an underlying tang of embalming agents and sterilizing chemicals. Though the embassy operates with professional courtesy, visitors cannot escape the sense that every surface, every shadow, is a reminder of Eox’s necromantic legacy—a place where death is not merely accepted but meticulously codified into the business of diplomacy.
The pale GuideLine paths you into the main doors and through the interior, and for those of you that have your comm settings with audible cues to yourself, the GuideLine sounds very much like a funerary chant that grows louder the closer you are to it and your destination. You are not hindered by anyone on your way in, it seems like the indicator associated with your GuideLine has permissions built in— or it could be some sort of DataTag in your invitations. For the sake of your comfort and convenience, a pair of skeletal attendants is there to escort you to a spare, but well-appointed office that feels much akin to what an ancient mausoleum probably feels like.
Inside the office stans an Elebrian next to a desk of blackened bone, polished to a rich smoothness. They are clearly undead in that there is no flesh on their bones, and an eerie green light burns in empty eye sockets. They, like the office, are dressed appropriate to their station, in attire that is both stately, and a touch ornate, just enough to understate the look. The plate outside the door names this individual as Gevalarsk Nor, Eoxian ambassador to Absalom, and as you enter, a courteous nod and gesture to the seats arranged before the desk itself.
Their voice comes as the whisper of air through a long-dead form, reinforced by something that feels like a softer echo. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I’m certain you’re aware of the recent interest in the prospecting ship Acreon and the asteroid being referred to as the ‘Drift Rock,’ and I believe you’re also acquainted with the dispute between Astral Extractions and the Hardscrabble Collective over both the ship and the asteroid. Both parties are currently awaiting legal arbitration, but the wheels of justice often turn quite slowly. As a result, I have offered my services as a mediator in hopes of finding a solution that is equitable to both factions.
“The first step in this, of course, is learning the specifics of the opposing claims. Reports of your recent endeavors in dealing with some of Absalom Station’s most notorious gangs have led me to believe that you might be useful in this undertaking as well. You’re new to the station, you seem to possess a wide range of skills and abilities, and you certainly appear capable. In short, you’re perfectly positioned as a neutral third party that could cut through all of the red tape surrounding this issue and get to the heart of the matter."
"I would like you to go to the Acreon, find out precisely what happened to its crew, and ascertain the value of its asteroid cargo, as well as determine whether this Drift Rock is truly as ‘mysterious’ as the media claims.”
As the air settles from their words, the light in his eye sockets looks at each of you, gauging, waiting...
For those who had played the game as children, Zephyr certainly qualified as "stiff as a board" ... "light as a feather" not so much. He clearly showed his discomfort surrounded by nonlife.
"There can be no argument there, we are absolutely perfectly positioned. At the moment, we have the presentation of desired tasks and outcomes; should not our consideration include the remunertion we would receive for these tasks and outcomes? I think it should."
The marginally maligned model of buoyant attitude seems to be quite neutered as the group proceeds (and possibly plausibly process) through the depression that is the Embassy of Eox.
I once want to a funeral for a third cousin that everyone loved that was marginally merrier than this....just saying.
Dirk smiles at the two creepy skeletons offering refreshments with the smile one gives to a teacher that offered you fruit instead of anything else.
Inside the offices of the Ambassador, the Holistic Detective appears nothing but comfortable in his current setting. At the commencement of his speech, Dirk barely seems to be listening as his attention seems to have been taken by the Ambassador's lacking of skin. Dirk's Three Blue eyes seem to fixated on the Ambassadors eerie green light burns in empty eye sockets one....
Perhaps some sunglasses. Dark. Real thick and dark ...
Visibly moving his lips, Dirk recites
...prospecting ship Acreon...asteroid being referred to as the ‘Drift Rock,’...dispute between Astral Extractions and the Hardscrabble Collective... looking for patsies....
Dirk coughs.
Excuse. Excited to work for such an esteemed member of the representative of a major Pact World member. Plus I had three helpings of chili cheese pretzels this morning.
Taking out his note pad, pencil and Batman eraser, the Starfinder aspirant begins making a list of needs, wants, might gets and may as well...
"We only recently arrived and have spent our first days here investigating an incident which apparently concerns this derelict spaceship everyone is talking about and some rock that is supposed to be aboard it. We're also associated with the Starfinders and all attended the same academy. Would your invitation possibly be connected to the Starfinders or the academy? That's the Attelan Star Academy, by the way." He introduces himself and the others in the academy group. "What do we call you?"
In a voice that has enough inflection to sound personable while still being obviously synthetic, the robot answers, "I am designated 15-0-10. If you prefer, I have a variety of options I have been considering a variety of 'nicknames' for more familiar usage I could share with you."
Its voice swaps to one that sounds vaguely like an excited female lashunta. "I actually just joined the Starfinders! There was a bit of excitement during my initiation running across some illegal activity that the perpetrators tried to hide violently, but it turned out all right in the end."
Their voice comes as the whisper of air through a long-dead form, reinforced by something that feels like a softer echo. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I’m certain you’re aware of the recent interest in the prospecting ship Acreon and the asteroid being referred to as the ‘Drift Rock,’ and I believe you’re also acquainted with the dispute between Astral Extractions and the Hardscrabble Collective over both the ship and the asteroid. Both parties are currently awaiting legal arbitration, but the wheels of justice often turn quite slowly. As a result, I have offered my services as a mediator in hopes of finding a solution that is equitable to both factions.
“The first step in this, of course, is learning the specifics of the opposing claims. Reports of your recent endeavors in dealing with some of Absalom Station’s most notorious gangs have led me to believe that you might be useful in this undertaking as well. You’re new to the station, you seem to possess a wide range of skills and abilities, and you certainly appear capable. In short, you’re perfectly positioned as a neutral third party that could cut through all of the red tape surrounding this issue and get to the heart of the matter."
"I would like you to go to the Acreon, find out precisely what happened to its crew, and ascertain the value of its asteroid cargo, as well as determine whether this Drift Rock is truly as ‘mysterious’ as the media claims.”
15-0-10 hops up onto a seat and sits on its haunches, its head just barely reaching over the desk. It tilts its head to one side with a slight creak as it listens to the offer. It looks back and forth at the other solarians, then back at Ambassador Nor.
"I would be amenable to to this," it says in its most robotic voice, "Though I would also be curious as to the availability of remuneration."
"Availability of? If they're asking us to do this for fun, our answer should be 'no thank you'"
Sparks learned in Ambassador 101 that one should never let negative personal reactions show when in a culture with values one does not appreciate. One technique the class offered was to suggest imagining saying what one really felt and then letting that go unsaid, just to feel as if the reaction was given.
Here he inwardly imagined himself saying to Ambassador Nor, "I LOVE what you've done with the place! It's so ... what's the word? ... ghastly!".
What he really says is "Thank you for asking. It is an honor to be asked to assist in such a weighty matter. I can't imagine such a request would not come with suitable payment for taking risks, including compensation should any of us be seriously injured in the task. That can be worked out in due time. I would like to know, however, whether the other parties have agreed to allow someone to explore the ship they both have a claim to."
As the majority of you speak on the shared topic and interest of remuneration, the message is received and he gives a nod of acknowledgement. From a formal but casual position of leaning slightly on the desk— which is an affectation that is more performative than practical– their other hand gestures to Sparks. Whether intended or not, the intimations of the Dirindi are dismissed.
"Quite astute. Their assent was given prior to my penning of your invitations— it would reflect poorly upon my station to say nothing of my capability with forethought, were I to assemble all of you on a gamble. It is perhaps inevitable that suspicion falls upon me, given my origin and station, yet I will state this plainly: I am not beholden to your factions, nor do I seek advantage in your disputes. Violence, though efficient in its way, is costly, imprecise, and unbecoming of civilized interests. Diplomacy, however, has the power to bind agreements that endure beyond the momentary satisfaction of force. My sole intent is to facilitate such an agreement here, that this matter might conclude without further incident. If you insist upon reading ulterior motives into that, you will find only the reflection of your own doubts."
Pausing for a moment, they continue, "Compensation was also not neglected in your consideration. Six hundred credits each was gauged to be an accurate value for what should be the journey of a handful of hours, if no more than half a day, depending on the length of the verification process. I cannot imagine the task taking longer."
"I am favorably inclined towards this endevour now, although I do hope that the Embassy will take care of our transportation needs in this matter; I am also going to assume that any and all findings during this mission can be claimed by us as a group: there is no cargo or property which falls outside the law of salvage, correct? We thank you for your care and thoughtfulness allowing us to help with this."
The ambassador turns his head slightly to address Zephyr regarding his question, the motion slightly unnatural in the manner of turning due to the lack of flesh on the skeleton on his body.
"Technically, yes, Mr. Starr— the principle of salvage applies broadly. But let us be precise. You are not engaged under a salvage charter; you are here under a sponsored inquiry. The Acreon, its systems and records, and the Drift Rock itself are the defined subjects of arbitration between Astral Extractions and the Hardscrabble Collective. These are what you are tasked to examine, nothing more. Should you encounter incidental cargo or curiosities beyond that scope, their disposition is immaterial to this process— and any attempt to treat them otherwise would reflect poorly on your impartiality. I trust I need not remind you that impartiality is the only reason either side agreed to this arrangement at all."
Sparks nods with satisfaction. "I agree that diplomacy and negotiation are always preferable to force. You may or may not know that we've encountered violence in furtherance of one of the litigants interests. We will want to enter equipped for all possible situations, including violence and using whatever means necessary to gain access to locked compartments and encoded data. We should probably have a document defining in detail the expectations just so we know what is expected. Six hundred credits sounds fair to me. And I am excited at the chance to have the first view of this controversial space ship and this mysterious drift rock."