|
Everyone receives a text message from Venture-Captain Arvin
"Mission briefing 9 am conference room 409
You arrive before Venture-Captain Arvin arrives. The room is a bit of a mess. It looks like there was a party here recently. There is a Ysoki with a cleaning cart eating cake frosting off the floor.
As you enter a Ysoki, cleaning the room greets you.
"Venture-Captain Arvin said to let you know he's running a bit late today. Don't mind me, I'm just here cleaning up after the party. Would you like some frosting? There is still some on the floor over here, it's really good!"
|
A young, handsome man in a black suit arrives, a briefcase in one hand and a scalpel twirling deftly in the other as his sharp gaze sweeps over the area. Subtle hints of augmentation mark his frame, barely noticeable at first glance. A closer look at his right arm reveals a finely crafted prosthetic, so lifelike it could almost pass for flesh, while his other arm bears a sheen of dermal plating, perhaps a fashionable enhancement of his era.
"I am Leopold Fix, The Doctor." His voice carries a rich lilt, the last two words pronounced with deliberate, resonant emphasis.
"The Doctor does not arrive to wait," he says flatly, fixing the ysoki with an unblinking stare before finally breaking his gaze. "This room could use a bit more cleaning," he adds, gesturing with a precise flick of his finger toward the cake frosting on the floor, pointedly ignoring the ysoki’s offer.
|
|
A man in a stained, black pilot's overall is the next to arrive. His face, littered with soft wrinkles, is framed by gray hair intermingled with a few stubborn streaks of dark and a barely kempt, if short, beard. His heavy-duty boots had seen many moons, but they seem functional, at least. A belt around his waist carries several satchels and a knife sheath. Attached to a mechanical crossbolter is a strap that is flung over his shoulder.
He enters the room and looks around, raising an eyebrow at the frosting spilled over the floor. He kneels down, dips a finger into the substance, smells it, and puts the finger in his mouth. A second later, he makes a grimace and spits the thing out. "Should have shut down the floor heating." he notes in a coarse voice. He turns around to inspect the room, revealing a pink neon stitch in suggestive cursive across his back, reading [color=red]"Val’s Lick-Her Shop"[/color].
"Name's Blake.", the man turns to Leopold. "Am I early? Or..." he looks at the door sign. "Wrong room, perhaps?"
He extends his arm for a handshake, stops himself halfway, and wipes his finger on his suit before offering it again.
|
|
A winged green shirren, wearing a second skin, with twitching antenna walks through the door of the conference room 409. She is looking around the room, and at the floor.
"The prophecy did not provide me with this vision. I'm Étoile marcheuse. I hope during the exploration you don't mind my telepathic message," said Étoile marcheuse with an insectoid voice.
"The Doctor does not arrive to wait," he says flatly, fixing the ysoki with an unblinking stare before finally breaking his gaze. "This room could use a bit more cleaning," he adds, gesturing with a precise flick of his finger toward the cake frosting on the floor, pointedly ignoring the ysoki’s offer.
"No need to wait, I could use a hand cleaning. Normally, these rooms aren't this messy. They had a big party here to celebrate someone getting a..."
The Ysoki twitches their whiskers as they search for the answer.
"Oh, a campaign coin, that's what they said it was. Sounds kind of outdated to me, everyone uses credits these days. Whatever it is, they all seemed excited about it."
The Ysoki finishes the icing on the floor and moves to clearing off the table while still talking.
" By the way, in case anyone is courious, I'm Tux Manifold. So Dr Fix, what kind of doctoring do you do?"
"Name's Blake.", the man turns to Leopold. "Am I early? Or..." he looks at the door sign. "Wrong room, perhaps?"
"Good call on shutting off the floor heating. I'll have to remember that, this cake would have lasted a lot longer had I done that."
Tux walks over to the floor control and turns down the heat just in case there is more cake later today.Are you one of the Starfinders? If so, you have the right room. Captain Arvin had to go clean up first. He got hit in the face with a piece of cake. I'd like to be a Starfinder someday. Looks like they have good parties! So what kind of Starfindering do you do?"
"The prophecy did not provide me with this vision. I'm Étoile marcheuse. I hope during the exploration you don't mind my telepathic message," said Étoile marcheuse with an insectoid voice.
"I didn't get any prophecy about cake on the floor either. Normally, I'm just here straightening up the chairs and taking out the trash. Sometimes people forget to clean their boots and leave muddy footprints. Not all mud from around the galaxy is equally easy to clean. I've started to keep samples from the footprints I've cleaned here. Have you encountered any interesting mud sources during your explorations?"
Tux pauses like he's trying to get his nerves up to say something.
"Maybe you need someone like me to keep your starship clean during a mission? I don't take up much space."
|
|
"The prophecy did not provide me with this vision. I'm Étoile marcheuse. I hope during the exploration you don't mind my telepathic message," said Étoile marcheuse with an insectoid voice.
Blake scans the shirren head to toe with a hint of indifference. "It's fine. I've seen some of yours, though not many. Should be fun."
"So what kind of Starfindering do you do?"
Blake flashes a wry smile. "Pleasure's all mine, Tux, but you probably know more than me, buddy." He pats the Ysoki's shoulder. "First gig for these guys."
"Maybe you need someone like me to keep your starship clean during a mission? I don't take up much space."
"All of you are new to me, so I don't mind. Not sure if it's my call, however. Maybe you should ask Arvin fellow. He called the meeting, after all."
He looks around the room again. "So where are you folks from? Local? Somewhere else in the Pacts? Castrovel-raised right here.", Blake raises his hand. "But I move goods... Aballon to Diaspora and anywhere between, you name it. I might know a guy."
|
|
"Name's Blake.", the man turns to Leopold. "Am I early? Or..." he looks at the door sign. "Wrong room, perhaps?"
He extends his arm for a handshake, stops himself halfway, and wipes his finger on his suit before offering it again.
Leopold eyes the outstretched hand, then looks up at the man’s face with a blank stare that clearly says, “You cannot be serious.” He doesn’t take the hand, but answers all the same.
“Leopold Fix. The Doctor.” The last two words roll out with his usual emphasis before he turns his gaze elsewhere.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. But if it’s Venture-Captain Arvin you’re lookin’, then yeah, ye’ve found the right room.” he tells the man.
" By the way, in case anyone is courious, I'm Tux Manifold. So Dr Fix, what kind of doctoring do you do?"
His gaze shifts to Tux when addressed.
After a few measured seconds, he responds. "Are ye serious?" The question lands more like an accusation, as though Tux’s ignorance of The Doctor were the real offense.
"Augmentation surgery," Leopold says flatly. "Cybernetics, biotechs, and the occasional miracle when someone's more scrap than flesh. I’m the director of the Silverline Institute. We make people better than they were, or at least… functional again." His eyes drift elsewhere, showing little interest in the conversation itself.
|
|
The next to enter the room is an obvious android. It looks more mechanical than synthetic flesh, and if you had to guess, you hazard to theorize he was moddled on a Vesk, not human. He has a Talon Short sword on his hip and a Laser Rifle that looks pieced together on his back. Over his body you see structural reinforced parts that serve as Armor. He takes a scan of the room, apparently is satisfied about something, and takes a stance by the door.
|
|
In strides a massive red-scaled figure, Skyfire armour gleaming like molten metal in the artificial lights of the space station. In one hand he carries nothing, until a sudden flare of light ignites into a blazing spear, the tip spitting sparks and glowing painfully bright, as though born from a star. Some other motes of solar energy float around him, creating their own constellation.
His wings unfurl with a leathery snap, a slight haze of smoke tendrils around him. When he speaks, the sound is like granite grinding against granite, underscored by the faint scent of fresh asphalt on a hot summer’s day.
“Name’s Zagrifax. Most call me 'Big Red'. Hello.” he rumbles gently, with air of overconfidence and slight menace.
|
|
In strides a massive red-scaled figure, Skyfire armour gleaming like molten metal in the artificial lights of the space station. In one hand he carries nothing, until a sudden flare of light ignites into a blazing spear, the tip spitting sparks and glowing painfully bright, as though born from a star. Some other motes of solar energy float around him, creating their own constellation.
His wings unfurl with a leathery snap, a slight haze of smoke tendrils around him. When he speaks, the sound is like granite grinding against granite, underscored by the faint scent of fresh asphalt on a hot summer’s day.
“Name’s Zagrifax. Most call me 'Big Red'. Hello.” he rumbles gently, with air of overconfidence and slight menace.
The android takes a step back, stops, realizes something about the Dragonkin, and takes a more relaxed stance again.
”Sorry, you startled me.”
"Maybe you need someone like me to keep your starship clean during a mission? I don't take up much space.""All of you are new to me, so I don't mind. Not sure if it's my call, however. Maybe you should ask Arvin fellow. He called the meeting, after all."
"I've asked before, but Captain Arvin says I'm too valuable here. I know my stuff, I've watched every episode of the Deep Cultures Institute's videos on Ancient Aliens living in the sun. I think the first ones are behind the Gap, and the recent crashed ship on Akiton. I bet that's where your mission is going to be at, maybe you could sneak me on board?"
Anyone can roll a DC 12 Society, or check your com units spam folder for more info on the Deep Cultures Institute.
|
|
Irritation is visible on Étoile marcheuse when Tux mentioned the recent crashed ship on Akiton, as she came back from the planet to the Station.
"Ah! Those researchers that believe that an ancient culture still inhabits the sun," shares mentally Étoile to the others people in the group, in the exception of Tux.
" By the way, in case anyone is courious, I'm Tux Manifold. So Dr Fix, what kind of doctoring do you do?"His gaze shifts to Tux when addressed.
After a few measured seconds, he responds. "Are ye serious?" The question lands more like an accusation, as though Tux’s ignorance of The Doctor were the real offense.
"Augmentation surgery," Leopold says flatly. "Cybernetics, biotechs, and the occasional miracle when someone's more scrap than flesh. I’m the director of the Silverline Institute. We make people better than they were, or at least… functional again." His eyes drift elsewhere, showing little interest in the conversation itself.
"Oh, wow, the director of Silverline Institute, my cousin on Akiton collects and sells used augmentations, he talks about the Silverline Institute all the time. You two should hook up."
As CTU-596 and Big Red enter.
"Don't mind me, I'm also done here, just got to clean the windows next. By the way, I'm Tux Manifold, you must be more of the Starfinders. Have either of you been to Akiton? I bet that ship that crashed there recently had been hiding in the sun since before the Gap ended."
|
|
As CTU-596 and Big Red enter.
"Don't mind me, I'm also done here, just got to clean the windows next. By the way, I'm Tux Manifold, you must be more of the Starfinders. Have either of you been to Akiton? I bet that ship that crashed there recently had been hiding in the sun since before the Gap ended."
CTU looks momentarily flummoxed.
”I . . . Have not had the pleasure of visiting Akiton. My home lies. . . Farther afield.”
|
|
"Oh, wow, the director of Silverline Institute, my cousin on Akiton collects and sells used augmentations, he talks about the Silverline Institute all the time. You two should hook up."
The Doctor exhales a sharp, derisive huff at the suggestion, with eyes rolling. Hook up with some scavenger who deals in second-hand augmentations? The thought alone reeks of rust and desperation. To him, such a meeting would end with a zero knife at someone’s throat long before it ever reached a toast. He doesn’t bother dignifying Tux’s comment with a reply, and his gaze drifts elsewhere, already done with the conversation.
But he turns back to the Doctor. "You, uh, got some augments?"
He turns his gaze toward Blake, studying him for a beat before speaking.
"Yes, you’re stating the obvious. Or perhaps not," he replies flatly, though inwardly, he’s faintly impressed that another human could identify more than just the visible parts of his work.
Setting his briefcase neatly on the table, he unfastens his sleeve and extends an arm. "As for the obvious — dermal plating. State of the art."
Then he raises the other arm, his tone edged with pride. "As for the other augmentations..." he stresses the plural, "Arm prosthesis. Fully grafted, flesh and synthetic indistinguishable." The skin is seamless; no stitches, no visible machine-to-flesh connection, nothing but precision and perfection.
"Among others," he adds, gesturing briefly to his ear and eye, subtle hints of deeper craftsmanship.
|
|
As CTU-596 and Big Red enter.
"Don't mind me, I'm also done here, just got to clean the windows next. By the way, I'm Tux Manifold, you must be more of the Starfinders. Have either of you been to Akiton? I bet that ship that crashed there recently had been hiding in the sun since before the Gap ended."
"Just got back from there, some dull work shifting equipment, then we went and looked at a wrecked ship - was very strange in there"
|
|
"Hmm." Blake exhales softly with his half raspy voice. "Nice work. Couldn't have guessed. Any issues with EM scanners on checkpoints?"
Blake pauses for a second, then attempts to justify the detailed examination. "Out of curiosity. I ain't getting younger and want to be productive as long as possible. Back aches, knees ache, I assume you know how it goes in some professions. Lot of heavy lifting, spontaneous sprinting, the occasional fall or fight..."
|
|
"Hmm." Blake exhales softly with his half raspy voice. "Nice work. Couldn't have guessed. Any issues with EM scanners on checkpoints?"
Blake pauses for a second, then attempts to justify the detailed examination. "Out of curiosity. I ain't getting younger and want to be productive as long as possible. Back aches, knees ache, I assume you know how it goes in some professions. Lot of heavy lifting, spontaneous sprinting, the occasional fall or fight..."
”Agreed, staying in one place for too long is. . . Bad.”
looks at Tux. "It's nice to have hobbies, but I would suggest you consume DCI stuff with a grain of salt. Not the most reliable content. At least from what I understand."
The Doctor exhales a sharp, derisive huff at the suggestion, with eyes rolling. Hook up with some scavenger who deals in second-hand augmentations? The thought alone reeks of rust and desperation. To him, such a meeting would end with a zero knife at someone’s throat long before it ever reached a toast. He doesn’t bother dignifying Tux’s comment with a reply, and his gaze drifts elsewhere, already done with the conversation."Oh, wow, the director of Silverline Institute, my cousin on Akiton collects and sells used augmentations, he talks about the Silverline Institute all the time. You two should hook up."
Tux Manifold's whiskers droop a bit, feeling a bit rejected that no one takes him seriously, but he shrugs it off after hearing.
"Just got back from there, some dull work shifting equipment, then we went and looked at a wrecked ship - was very strange in there"
Excited Tux speaks to Big Red
"So you have seen it."Then, without stopping talking his head towards the others.
"See, I told you so, it's real, so maybe now people will start taking the Deep Cultures Institute seriously."
”Agreed, staying in one place for too long is. . . Bad.”
Tux takes CTU-596's advice to hear without saying anything, then finishes cleaning the room. Tux waves as he leaves the room.
"Nice meeting all of you, good luck on your mission, I bet you're going to Akiton! I'm sure I'll run into you again."
|
|
"Thanks, man. Good luck!" Blake waves off the Ysoki, then turns back to the Doctor to ponder on his last comment. "Indeed..."
He turns to the rest of the crew "Anyone else has augmentations? We could compare with the Good Doctor ones and try to find the differences in quality until the Captain arrives."
|
|
"Thanks, man. Good luck!" Blake waves off the Ysoki, then turns back to the Doctor to ponder on his last comment. "Indeed..."
He turns to the rest of the crew "Anyone else has augmentations? We could compare with the Good Doctor ones and try to find the differences in quality until the Captain arrives."
CTU looks down at their own bio-mechanical body.
”I. . . Suppose it depends on how you define such things.”
|
|
Opening the door, a brown haired man steps aside to make room for the exiting Tux. Once the way is clear, he steps through the door, neat but unassuming in a pale shirt left untucked over comfortable field pants. He looks to be in his mid thirties and grips a large duffle bag in each hand.
Setting the bags down with a muted thud, he straightens to attention. "New agent, Thomas Orrick, reporting," he announces, face impassive, to those gathered in the room.
Only his dark eyes move as they scan the faces before him. As the moment stretches, a grin splits his face and he takes his ease. "You lot don’t look like Brass," he says, chuckling. "Name's Thommo."
Placing the bags off to one side of the room where they will be out of the way, he walks over to join the others. "Augmentations? None yet but I reckon Father Time will have something to say about that."
|
|
Blake considers CTU's statement. "Oh, yeah. Your chassis could be a baseline for...", the sentence is interrupted by a man walking in, and Blake turns his head to the door, waves at the man, and offers a quick "Blake. Nice to meet you." while visually scanning the bags.
After a short break, he adds a questioning "At ease?"
|
|
Venture-Captain Arvin arrives.
"Sorry, I'm running late."
Venture-Captain Arvin looks around the room quickly.
"Good, they got the room cleaned up, and you are all here. This shouldn’t take long.”
He clicks a remote control, first dimming the lights, then activating a hologram that hangs in the air. The hologram depicts a small moon orbiting a large green gas giant, with starship coordinates indicating a location in the Vast.
“This is VAM-723—short for Vast-723-Arctic-Moon. Remote exploration drones flagged it about thirty years ago as a candidate for exploration.
Initial scans indicate a thin but breathable atmosphere, standard gravity, and a verdant biosphere supporting an arctic climate, but no signs of sapient life—except, potentially, for some abandoned artificial structures half-dug into the surface.”
Arvin taps the remote control against his chin.
“Intriguing, no? More practically, VAM-723 seems like our best bet for planting a foothold in the system. Barring any unpleasant surprises, we’d like to establish a base camp for exploration of the surrounding planets and other local stellar bodies.”
“Today’s mission is to survey VAM-723 and assess its potential. I’ve also provided coordinates for a particular artificial structure that stood out during the initial observations. There’s no good landing zones nearby, so I’d suggest you set down in the general area and work your way over. Any questions?”
|
|
CTU raises his hand and speaks with an almost military cadence.
”Two questions commander. One: has anyone else laid claim to the system or planet? Veskarium? Azlanti? I understand it is in the vast, but I’ve heard of groups claiming systems that they have just observed. Question 2, will we be flying there, or are we being escorted?”
|
|
Venture-Captain Arvin first addresses CTU's question.
"There are no immediate threats on the horizon that I’m aware of, but I wouldn’t leave your weapons behind. You never know what you might encounter out there. The moon is unexplored, after all, the biggest danger might be the weather. We know through our relationship with the Veskirum that they have not explored it. As for the Azlanti, we have seen no sign of them in that area that we know of, so keep an eye out for them and report immediately if you do spot them. ”
"As for how you are getting there, you will have access to one of the Starfinder Society's explorer-class ships. I believe our records show at least one of you is skilled at piloting."
Then Arvin turns to Big Red's question.
"Because the artificial structures we spotted are half-dug into the surface and appear to have been abandoned for some time, we have no idea who made them or what their intended purpose is. So that's something we need you to find out. In addition, collecting samples of the local flora and recording any local fauna you find will help us determine if the moon is suitable as a base."
"Any other questions?"
|
|
Venture-Captain Arvin responds to Leopold and Blake
“Let’s just say you’ll want to make sure your environmental protections are in working order before you leave. You could probably survive without them, but not for long, and it wouldn’t be pleasant.”
Arvin adds.
"I made sure your ship has winter jackets in your sizes onboard that you can borrow, any other survival supplies are up to you."
|
|
Thommo nods to Blake, extending his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, too." He chuckles and, scratching his head sheepsihly, answers the other man's question with a shrug. "You know how it goes - You can take the man out of the military...'" He leaves the rest of the platitude hanging, unspoken.
Turning to Étoile, Thommo offers his hand to greet her as well. "A pleasure, Étoile," he returns. "Nah, I'd say you don't - it's not for everyone. Ah, fancy!" His eyes follow the shimmering light trail left by her hand.
At Venture-Captain Arvin's entry, the one-time trooper snaps to attention, his hand to his brow in salute. He takes his ease as the mission briefing begins.
"Scouting and recon," Thommo summarises. "Anything else you can tell us about these artificial structures, sir?"
|
|
Venture-Captain Arvin responds to Thommo
"You'll be the first to have real eyes or any other senses on it. I'll be interested to hear what you can tell us about them on your return. Unless there are any other questions, your ship will be ready to depart within the hours, so it's best to hurry if you have any last-minute shopping."
Venture-Captain Arvin sends CTU-596 the coordinates to Vast-723-Arctic-Moon. Then leaves the Starfinders to get ready on their own.
"Good luck, Starfinders, I'm looking forward to your safe return."
|
|
When not in the pilot's seat or sleeping, CTU is often seen practicing martial arts manuvers in the Gym (or cargo bay if this particular craft doesn't have a gym)
CTU's fighting style is textbook Vesk Military unarmed combat techniques, except for any tail slaps which CTU obviously does not have.