Sanitation Joro answers Irres. "That, and setting up events, helping playtest new games, and taking on challengers for the title. Well, the last is not an official duty, but the last Gamemaster Joro did and it kind of became tradition."
Chandler Joro looks at Vomatian. "Never heard of those, but if you have copies, I'm sure Gamemaster Joro would love to try them. Are any of you interested in trying one of ours?"
Programmer Joro goes to one of the shelves and grabs a game, setting it up on one of the vacant tables. "This one is called Imperial Conquest. Everyone who wants to play should pick a color, and..." They then explain the basics of the game.
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Anock gestures at the rest of her team. "Well, don't be shy. Take a seat and learn how to play. I'm going to ask some others some questions about their system of government." It's as good an excuse as any to avoid embarrassing herself in front of her team.
She approaches another random Joro and begins peppering him with questions (since that worked so well last time) about the local government. "Is there a Governor Joro, or a Mayor Joro, or something like that? One person who's the most 'in charge' of everyone else? What type of government do you have, and how does your economic system interact with your political system?"
Anock asks around, but everyone seems more interested in the game than describing the vault.
Meanwhile, the other Starfinders play Imperial Conquest. Irres and Vomation just don't get the hang of it, and it quickly becomes a two-person contest between Omega and Programmer Joro. Omega starts to fall behind, but recalls some similar strategy games they played on the Infosphere and eventually ekes out a victory. High fives for the hologram follow, with consoling pats on the shoulder for the losers.
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Hiding her pouting about being ignored, Anock makes like a good leader by congratulating Omega and consoling Vomation and Irres. "Good work, Omega. Don't worry, you two. You have other excellent skills to support the team. Thank you, Programmer Joro, for an enlightening game." Preening about how excellent a leader she is, she declares: "All right, team! Let's take our leave of these Joros and go find out if they're any good at barbershop quartets. To In-Choir-ing Minds!"
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Omega taps out some gameplay suggestions / strategies for Programmer Joro to think about in the future.
When Anock makes her comment, he types out:
Well, I am not allowed to speak, let alone sing, at this time... but I am not programmed to sing. The results would not be pretty if I tried.
Nevertheless, he follows the others.
This small performing arts studio is richly decorated with inspirational music posters, five-line whiteboards, and tiered choir risers encircling an analog upright piano. A handful of community singers gather here for rehearsals, avidly practicing choreography and harmonized parts in a cappella covers of the Joros’ favorite tunes. The current ensemble intently focuses on their rehearsal and pay the Starfinders little notice.
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While the Joros are warbling or whatever they're doing, Anock pokes around the place, hoping to find some information to read until they stop for a breather.
As soon as it seems like they're finished with their song, she claps exuberantly. "Amazing! You all sound great together. It's like your voices were made to match." Hopefully her awful "joke" will resonate with the punny Joros.
Anock waits for a break and makes a joke. The group chuckles a bit before going back to their rehearsal, since it doesn't seem like any of the Starfinders have much of use to say.
The agents do find a paper with tallies on it, next to two names - "Joros Choros" and "Hi Note". The former is written in a more careful script and has one fewer marks next to it.
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"Maybe they're voting on a name for their chorus? Joros Chorus vs. High Note... There's gotta be a pun in there somewhere, even if it doesn't have their name. A note of greeting? Hmm. That's stretching it. Well, I've tried talking to them, and they nearly ignored me. One of you try." Anock is peeved that these Joros seem less interested in her (and, supposedly, her crew) than most of the other Joros they've encountered.
The singers pause momentarily and glare at you. It's kind of like being in a house of mirrors, if the mirrors reflected someone else's face. "We want nothing to do with their name," one of the Joros sneers. "We want to balance the scales at the next sing-off." One of the other Joros grins at the pun, but they quickly go back to rehearsing.
Omega provides an apology that seems to be accepted, but you think Joros Choros will probably be less favorably inclined toward you going forward.
Fluorescent overhead lights keep this sterile building brightly illuminated, and cartoonish images of Joros sporting bandages with smiling faces decorate the pale blue walls. Vidscreens suspended from the ceiling corners relay hospital information, while the main screen shows a whizdisk analysis discussion by three Joros wearing pastel blazers. Several patient cells appear empty, while others maintain their privacy via purple holographic curtains.
Two Joros, one in scrubs and the other in a white coat, move aside a curtain and enter one of the private rooms. Another in smart business attire sits at a desk near the entrance. That one looks up as the doors close behind the Starfinders, and they cheerfully call out, "Welcome to Ourojoros Hospital! How can I help you today?"
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Believing herself to be quite the medical professional herself, Anock almost bristles at hearing Mizzrym' state aloud what their intent is (which of course she hadn't realized). What, just ask them to drop everything to show us around, as if they have nothing better to do? The nerve! A tiny part of her mind rolls its eyes at her hypocritical umbrage and mutters something about Doublethink, but she shoves it into a dark corner and silences it before realizing what it meant.
"Of course, we realize that the well-being of your patients is of the utmost importance." Anock condescends. "If now is not a good time, perhaps we can make an appointment for later today."
"Certainly. Though you understand that I cannot take you to where any patients are being treated." They show you the administration area, one of the empty patient rooms, and let you glance into the operating theater, which is currently being cleaned by a Joro. Although the details differ, the technology level seems similar to that of the Pact Worlds.
Two cheerful-looking robots are wandering the halls.
"Oh, them? They are mascots from one of the whizdisk teams. Most of the patients love whizdisk, so getting visits like this really help cheer them up!"
"Oh, have you not seen whizdisk yet? It's great. You see, two teams..." Joro enters into as detailed a discussion of the sport as the Starfinders allow. They seem to be an enthusiastic fan, not a player. You recall that the stadium was on the list you were given of places worth visiting.
The holocurtain opens, and the two Joros leave the room, intently staring at a datapad as they move to the next area.
Mizzrym identifies the robots as Whizdisk Bunny Mascots, constructs with the technological subtype.
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Anock is about to comment on the image of the non-Joro patient when the Joro tour guide (whatever his name is) launches into a detailed description of Whizdisk that bores her nearly to tears. While he's waxing eloquent about disks and whizzing or whatever, it occurs to her that HIPPA regulations would prevent the hospital staff from discussing individual patients. Hmm... We're going to have to take the long way around to get the information, aren't we?
When the Fan Joro (that's his name in her head from now on, or at least until she forgets about it) pauses to take a breath, she jumps in with her question. "Say, do you guys frequently get non-Joro visitors? Roofer and Baker Joros only seemed mildly surprised when they saw us, so we're wondering how frequently non-Joros come through here."