Sparks thanks everyone for a good game and bids all a good ... whatever point in the day/night cycle it seems to be. He retires to his room to explore what options the bathroom has for water sports.
Sparks foregoes the special HAC diplomacy practice, as his upbringing immersed him in the nuances of diplomacy, which comes naturally to his race. Instead, he used an HAC program that gave him insight into interpreting the body language of various races in order to get a sense of what a being might be thinking, when they might be lying, and what might be motivating their actions.
A few days on, Pertinax enters the room he'd been told, wearing his fancy new designer flight suit, to make his pitch for some additional training in the basics of piloting.
Sparks is most interested in exploration and scientific research of anything to do with stars. If there is an opportunity for someone with background in Sarenrae, that too would interest him.
Zemfira put on the crisp new designer outfit Taeron had provided and reviewed his lessons on interview skills as she examined her image in the viewer. Always Be Closing. You Are The Product! Confidence, sincerity, style. She flashed her sharp teeth in a confident smile at herself and declared, "I am the Best Damn Product you ever saw!" Her reflection nodded in agreement and off she strode to her interviews determined to display her skills in their best light. She allowed herself the vanity of visualizing her image on the cover of the Next Big Flight Sim game or something equally enviable. She did cut quite a striking figure, after all.
Meanwhile in the cockpit, the enthusiastic Dirindi is found actually studying large text volumes in the arena of Physical Sciences....
He doesn't seem to have any interest in doing interviews....
The telepathic contact was instinctive, but the context, thankfully, was both appropriate and welcome, "Taeron, these are exquisite, even more stunning than what my grandparents gave me!"
He had never expected that their mentor would choose something from Castrovel's Kalistocratic Corps, and yet, here they were. There was a rumour that Verr'aa Wwanng designed for Telandia Edasseril long before the Gap: how could he be so blessed!?
"I should maybe excuse myself while you change young master Starr; please meet me in the hallway when you are ready to go to the Holocomm chamber."
Zephyr had forgotten to be modest ...
"I am ready Taeron, thank you so very much."
Extended use of Telepathy
As everyone that elected goes into their interviews, you learn that it is a series of interviews, some with somewhat general questions to get the measure of your personalities, and others to focus in on your interests. At the same time cues are being given by either preset or the interviewers themselves, the HAC changing with each cue. From the press of crowds enamored by your glamour, sedate and studious settings, to weather and setting changes, even to mock scenarios, all seemed designed to challenge you in more ways than one. As your sessions conclude, the mental fatigue is noticeable. All of them conclude the same way, with everything resetting back to the default of the interview room, and polite thanks given for your time. Their decisions would come later, after review and discussion.
All of you are informed that for the few days that you dedicated to furthering your skills or your education, the rest of the week was yours to do with what you would, and the Captain would be initiating the drift engine to make the jump to Absalom Station at the end of the week. The time in the Drift would span three days, which was one of the constants with drift travel, provided Absalom Station was the destination. Some found the Drift disconcerting, others found it peaceful, but no matter the opinion, the very nature of the Drift guaranteed that one might never see the same thing twice.
Zem made sure to spend some time in the Common Room, asking the others polite questions as they passed through. "How did it go?" regarding the interviews and "What do you think about the Drift? Have you traveled through it before?" of the impending jump. And finally, "What are you interested in seeing at Absalom Station when we arrive?"
Dirk Gently is found in the Common area. The well dressed Dirindi seems to have been quite busy cramming for his Physical Sciences exams. His three blue eyes look up at Zemfira as she enters the room.
I may have slightly over stayed my welcome in the cockpit. It also seems that the door only locks from the inside...
The Dirindi grins.
So, tell me, dear Zem. How did the interviews go? Not certain if I mentioned it, but my services have been procured.
Dirk then looks thoughtful when the question of Drift Travel and Absolam Station were offered.
Drift Travel is like playing pin the tail on the oxen. Fast and furious. But as our destination is Absolam Station, those kinds of trivial nonsense may be mostly avoided.
The Three Blue eyes shine in merriment.
Once we get there, we are to meet our liaison are we not? I have the letter somewhere....
Zem made sure to spend some time in the Common Room, asking the others polite questions as they passed through. "How did it go?" regarding the interviews and "What do you think about the Drift? Have you traveled through it before?" of the impending jump. And finally, "What are you interested in seeing at Absalom Station when we arrive?"
"I will be honest, I want to at least see the Cosmonastery of the Empty Orbit: I think our school has more going for it, but I would like to at least see the place if not the High Sola herself. After that, maybe a walk through Parkside to see Jatembe Park & the Plenara? That's about as far ahead as I have thought ..."
Zem made sure to spend some time in the Common Room, asking the others polite questions as they passed through. "How did it go?" regarding the interviews and "What do you think about the Drift? Have you traveled through it before?" of the impending jump. And finally, "What are you interested in seeing at Absalom Station when we arrive?"
"I will certainly be paying my respects at the Cathedral of Pharasma. Beyond that I'm not really sure, but I do not doubt that there are many wonders to be seen."
Dirk Gently is found in the Common area. The well dressed Dirindi seems to have been quite busy cramming for his Physical Sciences exams. His three blue eyes look up at Zemfira as she enters the room.
I may have slightly over stayed my welcome in the cockpit. It also seems that the door only locks from the inside...The Dirindi grins.
So, tell me, dear Zem. How did the interviews go? Not certain if I mentioned it, but my services have been procured.Dirk then looks thoughtful when the question of Drift Travel and Absolam Station were offered.
Drift Travel is like playing pin the tail on the oxen. Fast and furious. But as our destination is Absolam Station, those kinds of trivial nonsense may be mostly avoided.The Three Blue eyes shine in merriment.
Once we get there, we are to meet our liaison are we not? I have the letter somewhere....
Zemfira grins back, "It is hard to walk away, isn't it? I feel the same way."
About the interview she answers, "Good! Yes, good... I think. Not great, maybe. Definitely not perfect, but... good." The word seems to lose a measure of it's goodness every time she says it. "Yes, I think you did mention, Dirk. Does it pay well, your position?"
Zem's eyes nearly glowed that bright cyan color as the subject shifted to the Drift. "It's been some time since I was in the Drift... I feel closer to something there, maybe to everything." She said with a dreamy look in her eyes.
But when Dirk mentioned their liaison, she was brought up short and covered her mouth as she gave an abrupt cough of confusion. "But... we have met him already, haven't we? Taeron, the Lashunta stylist? We met him the first day on board. He sent the itinerary, the PR lessons, and the fancy clothes. He arranged the interviews... he's staying that suite right over there..." She pointed to his door and turned alarmed eyes swirling with a myriad of shades on Zephyr and Pertinax as they came in, looking for confirmation.
In reply to their intended destinations, she said, "It all sounds so lovely. Let me know if you want some company." But she didn't press, in case solitude was the preference.
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Sparks joins the speculation on things to see and do in Absalom Station. "I've been there a few times with my parents when I was a teenager. I know of a few good eating places and a cool game gallery. The place is so huge, however, I really haven't seen much except the usual tourist must-see places and events."
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Dirk suddenly looks a bit concerned. The Dirindi begins taking out his note book and pealing it open.
Lashunta stylist, you say? We met him the first day on board, you say? He sent the itinerary, the PR lessons, and the fancy clothes, you say? He arranged the interviews... he's staying that suite right over there...you say?
Dirk finally gets to the final page of his note book. He scratches his head.
Seems my note taking skills need a bit of....more.
The empty note book is seen with only a badly drawn pencil used depiction of a spaceship.
I was a bit bored at the Space Port.
Sparks joins the speculation on things to see and do in Absalom Station. "I've been there a few times with my parents when I was a teenager. I know of a few good eating places and a cool game gallery. The place is so huge, however, I really haven't seen much except the usual tourist must-see places and events."
Zemfira replies, "I have never been there that I recall. Maybe when I was very young, my family does travel for business." She shrugs, "Hopefully, someone will let me tag along when we get there."
Dirk suddenly looks a bit concerned. The Dirindi begins taking out his note book and pealing it open.
Lashunta stylist, you say? We met him the first day on board, you say? He sent the itinerary, the PR lessons, and the fancy clothes, you say? He arranged the interviews... he's staying that suite right over there...you say?Dirk finally gets to the final page of his note book. He scratches his head.
Seems my note taking skills need a bit of....more.The empty note book is seen with only a badly drawn pencil used depiction of a spaceship.
I was a bit bored at the Space Port.
Zem looks closely at the notebook and her expression of confusion and alarm melts away into one of wry amusement and she bursts out laughing. "You had me going, Dirk!" She proclaims, giving him a playful swat on the shoulder with a gloved hand for his prank. Seemingly unable to countenance that the double-degreed, already employed Dirindi was actually in earnest.
Still laughing, she retired to her suite to get some much needed rest.
Dirk just smiles weakly at Zemfira's most flattering of responses to his unfinished and unfortunate note taking skills....
The Dirindi gentleman does have the sense to still doff his hat and bow at her departure.
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Taeron is indeed around the ship, as one could not remain in their quarters so much that they might not be seen at meals at the very least. They are available to talk to if needed, but are often performing in more of a professional capacity than anything else. He does give your your space, and rarely intrudes— to be fair, the amenities on the ship are not lacking for anything between the access to the HAC, and the quality system connections in your rooms, remaining in your quarters would not be any true effort at all. For all of you, there is a fixed meeting with a Starfinder representative on the day of your arrival to the station, but unless there are follow-up interviews or other professional callings, your schedule remains free.
Thus far on the ship it has been a leisurely week, your self-chosen study taking up as much (or little) of your time as you feel comfortable with. Some of the habits that you held while studying at the Academy are not needed with your graduation, and you find yourself with time that you may not have had before, but the goal is to let you relax, put some of your prior stresses down and realize that you are free to choose your own way with the blessing of some of the top minds of the Dhacian Rota.
There is a timer, counting down to the initiation of the drift engine. It is prominent on the system of the ship, and if allowed, has synced to your comm unit so the transition is not distressing or jarring for those that are sensitive. For those certified in system operations, the time is approaching to see if you have what it takes to operate as a secondary (or even primary) position on a ship.
_______________________________________
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Zemfira spent her waking hours in equal parts socializing with her fellow graduates, exploring the ship and continuing her studies. Though considering her "study" time usually involved logging hours in her flight sim pod while blasting through her playlist, she felt substantially recreated as a result.
She sent queries to her new friends for samplings of their playlists as well, since it seemed another good way to get to know them better. She was especially interested to hear the Eoxian Death Metal that Pertinax had expressed such an interest in.
She was particularly proud and honored when she was invited to take a shift at the Helm again. Maybe she'd performed better than she'd thought!
Dirk Gently arrives to the Engineering room dressed in coveralls, complete with a hard hat with spot light attachment. Smiling and shaking the hands, claws, appendage of his fellow engineer crew mates, the Dirindi takes a seat that was seemingly just vacated by the Chief Engineer (politely doffs his hard hat) and begins twisting knobs and switching switches!
Let's see what this baby can do!
Sparks volunteers to take the Captain's chair.
He calls out for information on the systems, encourages everyone as they contribute to the effort.
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The countdown to the jump into the Drift is almost out, and for those that have completed the orientation courses, a notification alerts you that access to virtual consoles is enabled. Walking through the virtual setup of the Drift preparations, Zemfira plots a course that gets highlighted, checked, and then incorporated as the new jump path for their trip! A note is added that a commendation will be appended to her license.
Dirk settles into the Engineering room, walking through the pre-jump routines with ease. The time spent on the trip studying the layout immediately pays off as a couple of settings that were slightly out of range were identified and corrected.
Sparks, in the position of XO under the silent eye of Captain Albach sees the displays as he would, reading the status of the stations as they indicate their readiness and readout of the ship status. Attending to morale is just as important as any system and spirits are high as the final digits fall off of the counter.
For Zephyr, the transition of the ship into Drift space is felt through the station of the magic officer, the slight currents of magic parting around the hull as the pulse of the engine wraps them in a bubble and pulls them between. The station itself is set in the middle of a thin ring of a metal that incorporates the console, indentations lined with magically conductive materials that boost awareness from the individual into the whole. When engaged, the feel dramatically changes from a sedate ripple in normal space into being thrust into the forefront of a current and riding a vast wake, the calculated jump points serving as beacons that are felt or heard more than seen, with the blazing star that is undoubtedly Absalom station.
Pertinax takes a subsidiary navigation console on the bridge and hopes his time studying was productive.
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The countdown to the jump into the Drift is almost out, and for those that have completed the orientation courses, a notification alerts you that access to virtual consoles is enabled. Walking through the virtual setup of the Drift preparations, Zemfira plots a course that gets highlighted, checked, and then incorporated as the new jump path for their trip! A note is added that a commendation will be appended to her license.
Zem was so proud of her perfect performance she practically preened. A commendation so soon after graduation? She was already picturing her father's pleased expression when she gave him the news. She found she was feeling much more positively about the still pending results of the interviews.
Off shift, she found herself staring off into the Drift, mesmerized by the play of color and light. It was as if she could feel the vastness of the planes in this place. She felt both infinite and infinitesimal simultaneously. She giggled to herself as she remembered a joke her father favored.
What did the monk of Irori say to the hot dog vendor?
'Make me one with everything.'
Sparks compliments his comrades as they make adjustments that set the ship up properly for drift travel.
"Dirk, that last adjustment was spot on. Good job!"
"Steady as she goes, Zem. Zephyr, keep her informed on how we're situated in the drift. Pertinax, your in the zone, five by five."
Dirk Gently turns at the sound of Spark's complimentary voice. The Three Blue eyed Dirindi slowly (some may even perceive it to be a bit dramatically) lifts his gloved hands to remove his Helmet with the blast Shield down and all Three of his blue eyes wink at the Brenneri.
Your eyes can deceive you. Don't trust them.
Sparks smiles and closes his eyes and looks down at his console again. Then he laughs and looks back at Dirk. "You sound like a character in a Tri-D I saw once. I understand what you're saying though. In my religious practice, I always spend some time meditating, discerning waht is the reality behind the appearance of my surroundings. I guess now that we're having our first adventure, I'll find out how good I am at it, hey?"
After the initial jump and the tiny calibrations that always come after the entry into the drift, things settle down again. There were three days until your meeting with the representative of the Starfinder Society, but more importantly, your arrival at Absalom Station! After that, the Station would be yours to explore with the society and culture that evolved out of numerous races all coming together in this one location. Which is to say nothing about The Armada, perpetually in orbit around the station itself.
Once the excitement from the Drift fades, and autopilot is established to warn of any deviations from the route set by Zemfira, Captain Albach gives those at stations permission to leave once the system-handover checklist was cleared.
To Dirk, the console readouts are completely unlike anything that one might see in normal space. Given the readings that are being picked up and compensated for outside of the bubble generated by the jump drive, the variations in their surroundings are capable of wild fluctuation. Thankfully, the readings were measured in distances that at least had one more digit to the in their place value. It certainly led credence to the variable travel times outside of fixed, beacon-specific locations.
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The Blue three eyed Dirindi seems seriously serious.
"I've heard it argued that true time travel is impossible, since if it were possible to go back in time, someone would use the invention to give the invention to those in the past. It would only be a matter of time ... so to speak ... before ... if that is the right preposition ... everyone has it. I even read a story where the inventor of time travel uses her own invention prior to her inventing it."
"I've heard it argued that true time travel is impossible, since if it were possible to go back in time, someone would use the invention to give the invention to those in the past. It would only be a matter of time ... so to speak ... before ... if that is the right preposition ... everyone has it. I even read a story where the inventor of time travel uses her own invention prior to her inventing it."
Zemfira considers this theory, tilting her head to the side and chewing on her bottom lip pensively. "But that would create a paradox, wouldn't it? I know one where the guy builds a time machine just to go back and save his beloved from a tragic accidental death. He keeps managing to stop her from dying in one way, only to have some other tragic death befall her immediately after. Finally, he goes to the future and learns that since her death drove him to build the machine in the first place, her death has become a fixed point in time. No dead loved one equals no time machine, so it doesn't work. It was sad, he worked so hard to make it possible only to realize he had unintentionally made it impossible." She sniffles, blinking away the moisture in her large eyes as they deepen to a darker blue.
"So if you invented time travel and then took it to your younger self, wouldn't that do something similar? Your younger self wouldn't go through the same things to make the discovery and things wouldn't turn out the same, right? Though I have heard one where jumping through time actually takes you to a completely separate time-line, so it wouldn't really be your younger self, but a completely alternate version of you. Hmmm... " Zem might be well-read but this discussion was clearly stretching her intellectual capacity to the limit.
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"My grandfather always used to say 'Sure, you slingshot around the sun, you pick up enough speed, you're in Time Warp ... and if you don't you're fried.'"
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Pertinax arches an eyebrow as the others debate. "Not sure I believe any of that. What I do know about the flow of time is that when it's your time, you'd best go. Pharasma does not like to be kept waiting."
Days pass, with the view of the Drift being ever present, should you desire to pull it up on the display of your accomodations. Compared to what you have done since boarding, this is leisure time to be spent however you might desire. Your shared calendar has your next notable event being the meeting with the Starfinder Society representative on arrival, and after that, who knows? The trip has been a nice break from the routine and studies that you have graduated from, and it was certainly a change of pace from what you had known previously.
Taeron has been about, and cordial, but from the few exchanges that you have had, it is possible that he is already working, which would explain the odd hours that you do encounter him outside of mealtimes, or him retrieving a snack from the galley in the middle of the night in remarkably fashionable pajamas.
The countdown to arrival has begun.
The ever optimistic Dirk Gently smiles, nods and giggles at those responses gather by his peers. The Blue Three eyed Dirindi's anticipation of arrival only pales slightly in comparison to his overhearing the Chief mentioning something about having bread pudding tonight for dessert....
Having a countdown in the surreal expanse that was the Drift lent an air of tangibility in the time that was spent in that space, something to refocus on amidst the sights in the distance that seemed like the more you focused, the more you saw. The great brass gear that seemed to be at a distance so vast that it seemed to be palm-sized until your path swung near it and you realized that entire cities could fit on it despite your sense of perception getting confused. Another glimpse saw what looked like a valley, scooped from the land, a series of lakes glittering in sunlight. One more saw a nebulous cloud that roiled with violet energy, its contents obscured. Limitless and uncharted as the infinite spread out before you, your ship traveling apart from it in the quiet vast of this liminal space.
The approach to the countdown sees all of you in the certified positions you would normally occupy in a ship, ready as the final digits of the count zero out one by one. With a shift that you felt more than just physically, the drift dropped away as the overlay on the screen passed the beacon and suddenly the drift was replaced by the sight of a huge ring of ships in orbit around a grand construction, the center of the known universe, Absalom Station.
On-screen the sight is uncluttered for a moment as you are allowed to take in the splendor before icons, actions, and info begin to populate the display screen, marking makes, hails, and other relevant points of data. It seems you are expected, as a handshake prompt charts an approach corridor for your docking location, and all of your comm units begin to update with information personally relevant to you.
"Docking Bay 94 marked, approach indicated. Excelsior, welcome back", a neutral android voice intones.
Once the Drift is exited, the Three Blue eyes of the Dirindi turns to focus on the wonderful visual of Absolam Station.
Sweet Abadar! I need to pack!
The excited Stellar Sage rushes parcariously through the doors of the cockpit with merely a moment's pause for it to open and he to run through!
Bouncing back and forth between the corridor walls like a pinball in a pinball machine, Dirk Gently does indeed take the time to tip his hat in greeting to anyone who may become an obstacle of his chaotic progress.
Eventually the Solarian disappears into his cabin.
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Sparks enjoys the grandeur of the Drift and the emergence back in normal space and the panorama of the armada and Absalom Station.
As sparks gives up the captain's chair, he recites a line from a famous song about space pirates,
"Who'll drink a toast with me?
I give you liberty
This town is ours... tonight."
He gets his pack and gear to head for the disembarking portal.
Zemfira was quieter, more contemplative in the Drift, gazing with wide-eyed wonder at everything. A stillness settled over her, like she was waiting for something... listening, perhaps.
The drop out of Drift was like a splash of cold water, or like waking from a dream. It wasn't unpleasant, per se, but such a shift in perspective that she found it... jarring. Still, it meant their arrival was eminent and that fact alone was stirring in a whole new way.
She held the haste in her nature at bay for a few moments more, clapping softly for Sparks' recital and offering Captain Albach a salute followed by a deep, reverent bow of farewell. "Captain, it was truly an honor to serve as a member of your brilliant crew and to pilot this beautiful ship. I shall treasure the experience, always."
And then she was off and running, her need for speed consuming her at last as she trots back to her suite and throws her spare clothing and gear in her bag and makes ready to disembark. She allows herself a "Squeee!" of excitement, running in place as she looks out her window one last time. Then she blows a kiss to the bulkhead of Excelsior and makes her way onto Absalom station.
The transition from Attelan to the Excelsior and now to Absalom Station. Each was a step, seeming so small an effort in each transition— the matter of a handful of steps, a handful of minutes, a very slight distance across all of those thresholds. So slight a thing, but the distance each of them represented, the familiar to the unfamiliar, each time. This time, it was from the familiarity of the ship to the grand unfamiliarity of Absalom Station, and the final meeting on their itinerary.
The ship lands, the difference in the gravity a slight thing, but the excitment that follows means that all of you know that you are on station gravity, not that of the Excelsior, as the loading ramp opens, giving all of you your first glimpse of Absalom Station. Here and there, cargo moves— likely from previous ships that have landed and unloaded here, driven by attended V.I., the dockworkers dressed in a visible and distinct coverall of a faded blue and safety yellow. To those with vision ranges outside of the human normal, the additional markings of workers are clear in strips of color that run near the hems and across one limb.
Taking in the entire bay is chaos, if one does not know what they are looking at. Cargo and people moving across the bay towards their destinations, and while there is some pedestrian footh traffic in the back of the bay, either those trickling in for the next scheduled flight, or on a route to one of the neighboring bays. They do not cross the zones demarcated on the bay floor with a worn but vibrant yellow, however. For those that have their comm unit Overlays on, a band demarcates the pathway to the exit, with caution lines for borders.
Near the edge of the bay proper, closer to your ship than the exit, two figures stand. One you recognize as Duravor Kreel, your contact for the Starfinder Society. He seems to be making casual, if slighlty awkward conversation with an extremely well-dressed Lashunta that stops as he sees all of you, glancing between a datapad, confirming who you are.
Hugging his overstuffed suitcase to his chest, hat slightly a skewed, bronze-color face a bit gleaming with perspiration, Dirk Gently exits the Excelsior . His three blue eyes travel across the chaotic scene presented before them.
Best use the Friend Method so no one gets lost.
The Secret Agent begins to fumble a bit with his overstuffed suitcase as he shuffle down the gang plank to the floor proper. Smiling as he compares a photo of his Starfinder contact to the dapper (if dirty) dwarf near the edge of the bay proper.
Excitedly raising his hand to wave to Durabor Kreel (dropping his overstuffed suitcase on his foot), the distracted Dirk Gently develops an overwhelming urge to scream instead!
Blurry Blue eyes turn to winks repeatedly at those around him.
Best foot forward as it were....
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Zemfira exits the Docking Bay a beat behind Dirk and rushes worriedly to his side at his apparent injury only to snort a laugh at his comical wink. She swats him again with a gloved hand in a motion that is fast becoming a routine between herself and the prankish Dirindi. "Come on, Dirk. There will time for mischief later!" She tells him in mild reproach, though still smiling.
She approaches their contact respectfully, planning to make a good first impression. "Sir, I am graduate Zemfira reporting for duty. Consider me at your service." She greeted Kreel with a deep bow.
Pertinax checks twice to make sure he has all his things, then heads down the ramp, clad in his usual somber black. He cracks a short-lived smile at Dirk's antics, but shakes his head, stops a the rear of the group, before looking around to see what he can see of the station from here.
Sparks puts on some nice looking togs that are neither highly formal nor tourist casual, not sure what is on the schedule. He focuses on where he is going while passing through the loading area, not wanting to end up under a crate or run over by a forklift.
Once past all that, he gives formal greetings to Host Kreel and introduces himself. "I am Sparks Goforth. Please to meet you."
He has his weapons, knowing that Absalom Station can be a rough place in the wrong neighborhoods. He also has an object looped on his belt that appears to be a glass sphere with a holographic representation of the Pact Worlds planetary systems slowly revolving around the sun. During the journey had often sat staring into the sphere as if meditating. As usual, his mote floats near his head, a small ball of sparking plasma.
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(The brightly lit docks of Absalom Station are abuzz with activity as travelers bustle by, preparing to board or disembark from starships bound to or from any of dozens of worlds. Brash and swaggering starpilots, scurrying ysoki mechanics, and expectant colonists mingle with enigmatic kasatha mystics, hard-faced asteroid miners, imposing vesk mercenaries, and more, creating a microcosm of the abundance and variety of life in the Pact Worlds. New arrivals meet friends, loved ones, or business contacts, and are whisked away into the humming activity of daily life on the vast space station. Beyond them, ground crews tend to the docked ships, and dockworkers in mechanized cargo lifters load and unload freight and baggage. A sharp tang of ozone hangs in the air—a byproduct of electrical discharges from the docked ships—but underneath, the station’s atmosphere has a slightly used aroma. The docking bay’s deck plates thrum beneath your feet, though whether it’s from the passage of innumerable feet or the vibrations of the station’s power conduits and air recycling systems is impossible to say.)
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Sparks
Zemfira
Dirk
Zephyr
Everyone disembarks from the ship, starting to move forward, calling out various greetings. Dirk and Zephyr, from their positions near the ship, notice a couple of anomalies— that being the colors and movements of individuals that do not belong to the dock and do not move like pedestrians. On either side, there are several individuals taking up positions of cover!
Durevor, a lanky dwarf of an easy smile on his face, looks away from the taller individual to raise a hand to wave at all of you in a greeting that is a far cry from the High Corporate mannerisms that you have recently experienced in your interviews. Given his appearance, this appointment was more a very casual meet-and-greet than a formal interview of any sort. There is a badge that bears the symbol of the Starfinder Society that stands out on his chest, the color and design of the emblem different enough from the industrial workwear that he wears.
Whatever thoughts of conversing at leisure that may have been forming are shattered by the sound of laser fire erupting from both sides of the docking bay!
Durevor —the smile falling from his face– looks confused, trying to look in both directions at the sources of laser fire as the pedestrians and travelers that had been crossing through the bay scream and flee in terror. The impeccably dressed individual that he had been speaking to immediately crouches, a shimmer passing over her form as some defensive item is triggered.
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Dirk smiles at Zemfira's gracious approach to his personality. The Dirindi closes his Three Blue eyes to further enjoy the A sharp tang of ozone hangs in the air—a byproduct of electrical discharges from the docked ships... .
I do enjoy the buzz.
The Electric Attuned Solarian winks.
Suddenly the eruption of non elicited violence stalls the mid-jesting Dirindi! Open mouthed (and a bit put out) by the rudeness of this occurrence, Dirk Gently does what any self-respecting, almost but not quite yet although this may be a golden opportunity to ensure...
... wouldn't do!
He takes out his Fire Extinguisher!
There does seem to be a bit of electrical activity coursing around and over his body.
Shots from laser pistols crisscross the docking bay as the two groups fire on each other, some hits landing despite their ducking behind cover. None of them seem to be particularly excellent shots, and more shots go wide than come near hitting with the exception of a few. The pedestrians and workers are still fleeing in panic, dropping their work wherever it fell and making for the exits. At this rate, the bay will be empty in a few seconds.
For Duravor, his decision paralysis turns from confusion to surprise as a laser beam hits him. Without a sound, he crumples to the ground and does not move.
The impeccably dressed individual looks shocked, and stays low, attempting to check on the fallen Dwarf.
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