"Understood, sir." Zemfira says deferentially as she recounts the battle. "A fire fight broke out suddenly in the docking bay after we diembarked from the Excelsior. Kreel was waiting to meet us and while I cannot be certain, it looked to me like he fell to the very first volley of fire, sir. We reached him quickly, but there was nothing we could do." She says sadly, with a shake of her head. "Station security seems to believe he was caught in gang war crossfire but it felt intentional to me. No proof of that yet, but when we found your message exchange... well, I thought it important that you were apprised of the situation, sir."
Sparks stands to the side so he doesn't show up in the call image, but listens intently.
Pertinax stands next to Sparks.
Dirk Gently checks his breath before joining Zemfira in the debriefing.
Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective, here, sir. As my esteemed colleague has offered our contract, one Mr. Kreek, was gunned down like an armadillo crossing against the light. Two known gangs offered his retirement but we suspect they were bought. We have leads, but we thought it best to further procure your financial investment in the case too.
Dirk Gently winks.
"Hn." A look of consideration crossed their face, likely judging the likelihood that everything that happened was on the level. "I can support that. Who commissioned the initial investigation?" It seems that Otal is open to facilitating your inquiry with funding, provided that the two of you are on the level. There is a touch of skepticism there, since there is still slim odds that this is a prank and someone they appear to have known for a while is in fact still alive, but that sis mostly wishful thinking.
_____________________________________
"Tell him we're Starfinders and the Starfinders authorized our investigation," Sparks whispers, soto voce.
Zemfira cut her eyes at Dirk, rolled them and then resumed her serious demeanor after meeting Sparks' gaze. "Apologies, sir. Dirk employs humor as a coping mechanism. Director Chiskisk engaged us to investigate, but not as official Starfinder business. My concern was if Kreel was specifically targeted, you might be in danger yourself, sir."
Sparks nods at Zemfira's diplomacy so far.
Dirk Gently only looks both please and a bit distracted by a loose thread on his coat sleeve....
The Dirindi does nod to Zemfira as she takes point.
A moment of consideration was given towards the possibility, their focus shifting as a moment was taken to look back at things, before they focused back on the call. "I'm just the mouthpiece for the Collective, for the most part. Their issue was with something Durevor was working on recently, maybe. I don't know what his schedule of affairs was. "
Well, we seem to be in need of the information containing our dwarf's recent project. Whatever that was may lead to further clues as to whom may be responsible for this tragedy.
Sensing that the call was winding down, Zemfira made the effort to get to the point. "Acreon seems to be the subject of Kreel's most recent project of note. We have gleaned only that there was a dispute. Can you tell us more details about the incident and Kreel's role in the arbitration? How removing him from the equation alters the situation moving forward? It would help us to understand if this is a viable motive, sir."
The name of the Acreon prompted a bit of a frown to appear before they sighed. "The current dispute with the Acreon is that Hardscrabble is claiming rights, and that is disputed by the contractor. Durevor was likely looking to step in to mediate, probably. If that would have happened, it definitely would be more difficult to get a ruling in their favor. Assuming the rock has some valuation... That hasn't come in yet. The ship has been silent since arriving, so there is a lot of uncertainty while it sits in quarantine." There is definitely some frustration there.
"A lot of things are still unclear, so unless someone has inside information, killing Durevor is a drastic step."
"With that, we can only defer to the vast experience of ... Dirk Gently. Yet in my own more limited experience, someone ALWAYS has inside information, and it seems unlikely to me that one of the shortest people in a docking bay was somehow felled first "in the crossfire""
Zephyr smiles
"But I do defer to Dirk on this."
Dirk Gently smiles warmly at the vid screen. The Holistic Detective straightens his tie.
M well, we do hope you are taking the proper precautions perhaps periodically perform pre-checks and posts-checks of our dear dead dwarf's dirty death. We wish you a Merry Christmas and we will leave you to it.
Dirk waves good-bye before pushing the off communication button.
He's been influenced. He didn't like it when Acreon was mentioned. Probably hit a nerve.
The Detective begins rifling through their notes....
....after reviewing the messages between Kreel and HCBoss, the Espionage Specialist frowns.
He quotes
Kreel: I'll need to get my hands on the original contracts between the company and the miners. There are probably clauses they used to avoid liability, or worse, that tied the crew into illegal working conditions...
Dirk Gently peers about suspiciously.
I am thinking about us perhaps attempting to investigate the Acreon ourselves. I wonder if he found those original contracts?
Investigating a big corporation with lots of security and lawyers will be difficult. I'd say we go see if we can influence one of the gangs to spill the beans on the incident. They'll be easier to find and will have fewer defenses. Then if they were hired, we can perhaps find out by whom and follow that lead.
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The idea that a ship has fallen silent since arriving pinged Zemfira's weirdness detector. "How much longer until the quarantine is lifted?" She asked and followed up with "Thank you for taking the time to talk with us, sir."
Once the call was concluded she said, "I don't know about influenced. Probably just worried about more parties vying for the Acreon's cargo. We already saw that news blip that said the Starfinder Society is involved. Something is definitely fishy here though... Doesn't it sound weird to you that the ship is uncommunicative even though it returned to dock? Sounds to me like there must be something dangerous on that ship. But I agree, we should stay informed on it while we follow up with the gangs. Downside Kings and the Level 21 Crew..."
The expression that follows the question Zemfira poses is something that would likely be followed by a shrug. "A guess cannot even be made right now. The ship is in limbo out there in the Quarantine Zone, and until we can get a response, or access to the logs to determine specifics, there is a dispute on ownership, and it probably won't move until that gets resolved."
Indicating the conclusion of the call, Otal nods and somberly replies. "Thank you for informing me of the tragedy. Durevor was a well-regarded individual in the area of workers' rights."
Outside the apartment, the neighborhood settled into the rhythm of early evening on Absalom Station, a mix of industrious activity and the soft murmur of daily life winding down. The corridors beyond the door pulsed faintly with the amber glow of overhead lights, their warmth diffused by patches of flickering holographic advertisements clinging to the walls like neon ivy. Residents moved with purposeful ease, a mix of species whose footsteps echoed unevenly against the durasteel flooring. The scent of spiced noodles and fried meat lingered in the air, carried from food stalls stationed strategically along the main thoroughfare. Occasionally, the muffled hum of a passing utility drone would cut through the relative quiet, its sleek body gliding toward unseen destinations with unwavering efficiency.
From the apartment’s window, angled to reveal a slice of the station’s outer plating, the view was more abstract—a patchwork of distant lights, casting fractured reflections across the reinforced glass. Beyond the faint glow, a hint of the cosmos peeked through, black and infinite, dotted with stars and the muted flash of starship thrusters. The faint, rhythmic thrum of the station’s life support systems blended with the distant sounds of conversation, laughter, and the occasional clatter of goods being loaded or unloaded in the nearby docking bays. Despite its industrial veneer, the neighborhood had its own kind of charm: a lived-in resilience, a balance between the chaos of constant motion and the brief moments of calm stolen between shifts.