BeeKay's page

Spec shuffles busily into the frame, with a datapad nearly attached to his flat owl-face, calling out in a distracted tone:
"Captain Rafflexis sir? Terribly sorry to bother you on the bridge sir, but there seems to be one more space on the ASN-2204 Temporary Relinquishment of Command form that needs to be filled in."
He stumbles over to the command chair, seeming oblivious to everything else.
"See sir, you need to sign here right next to Captain Tildanec's....". At this point, the xaursi finally looks up and realized the scowling Azlanti in front of him was on an important call.

*gulps audibly*" oh no Um, sorry sir, this can definitely wait til we get back to Zed, Captain Tildanic won't need it till then ....

With a resigned look, he mutters "don't worry sir, I'll go flog myself now ... I know where the tools are" and scurries quickly off scene again.

Bluff: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 6 + (3) = 27

Spec swoops down next to the Azlanti leader
"Yes of course milady, but before we get too far into things, might it be most prudent if your Ladyship might have the good Captain first sign the NDA under the briefing materials there? I'm sure codifying the rewards and penalties would be most beneficial someone collecting this sort of open favor."

The xaursi's somewhat predatory grin was of course a sad side effect of evolution past, and not at all a result of loading a negotiation with psychological apprehension via the universally feared specter of legal paperwork.

Once that is completed:
"Now Captain, I'm sure you saw the Interdictor out there, and noticed the state he was in. I know I don't have to remind you how powerful that kind of old family is .... and how dangerous their enemies are. We had thought this accursed backwater was secure enough for his recovery, but alas his enemies are doggedly persistent."

He leans closer to the man and lowers his voice
"Your fortuitous arrival has provided an amazing opportunity for all of us though. You can can garner blank-slate favors from two well-situated imperial noble families, by essentially doing nothing!
You know that old bylaw, the one that states an agent of the Throne may commandeer any and all equipment needed to accomplish a Throne-Directive? Well, that is going to draw more attention than we want, unless we can count on you being a loyal servant of the Empire.
Just let your crew take a bit of shore leave here, and her ladyship's crewmen can use The Relic to deliver the Interdictor to a secure location so he may recover enough to complete his priority mission."
"Your ship will be returned to you completely unharmed (and potentially with a little bonus onboard) and you will have two favors to call upon at your discretion."

Spec grabs the datastick and presses it into Tilldanec's hand.
"All of the contact and redemption details you need are on this device. As long as the terms of the NDA are met, it shall remain viable and penalty-free. What do you say Captain? You rarely get an opportunity to simultaneously get compensated for taking a vacation as well as prove your loyalty to the Empire (and your crew will love you for giving them the time off!)"

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (15) + 8 + (3) = 26

To Prosper (and anyone else listening)
"What if you , in your high-and-mighty-Azlanti-noble guise, can convince the Captain to meet privately with you for a moment while his crew is being served, so that he may be briefed on the service you require?
I can be concealed nearby and cast a charming spell on him (repeatedly until it sticks), and we can convince him that his vessel is urgently needed to return the Interdictor to Azlant space for a critical task. The captain and crew would be "compensated" for their invaluable assistance to the Empire, but would have to remain here in this location as to not betray the mission by being sighted by those darned rebels. And I'm sure teh chef would be mortified if he wasn't able to leave them with enough fine cuisine to last them their stay."

Spec nods in a satisfied way

"The best part is that when the spell wears off, the captain will remember giving the order to stay put and assist but not why he did so. We can likely rely on his sense of self preservation to delay the thought of breaking the confidence of such powerful Azlanti until we are long done with the Relic .... and who would he report to that wouldn't kill him for his failure?"

"What do you think?"

The pudgy professor comes up behind Pon at a huffing owl-sprint ... Azlanti"Oh no, Interdictor Aldrox, you simply have not recovered enough to be out and about like this... oh dear, the mistress shall have my pinfeathers for this"

He fusses about around Pon before giving a noticable start upon apparently noticing the Azlanti crew
Drawing himself up with equal parts obsequiousness and servility, the little owl speaks officially to the crew

"Greetings honored crew of the Relic. My mistress sends greetings to the captain of this august vessel, and wishes to attend a formal invitation to such a distinguished individual to attend a civilized dinner this night, and to discuss matters of import"

He bows to the crew members.
"My lady also offers greetings to all true servants of the empire and would entreat them to attend as well if their duties permit. Obviously the tables of the highborn shall remain separated as is proper, but you are all welcome to suitable accommodation."

He steps forward and initiates a data transfer request
"Would one of you citizens be so kind as to convey the invitation to your captain?"

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (20) + 8 + (4) = 32
Sense Motive to see if they are buying it: 1d20 + 10 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 10 + (6) = 20
Computers to generate an invitation: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Telepathic link
Prosper, time for another noble impersonation. Wint, go find us some part favors after all. Dal, can you find us a "house?"

The professor is momentarily distracted by the staff of mystic healing..."Ooooh... so shiny.... and maybe I could keep people alive more ..."
He breaks free from his reverie with a relatively violent head shake ..
"Ahem ... yes Minos, some of those spell gems could come in handy ... you never know when you might need a few more temporary friends!"

He turns to address the witchwyrd directly (and at a 45-degree upward angle!)
"Honored Trademistress Sayonsi, it has been an indescribable pleasure hosting one as cultured and knowledgeable as you upon our humble tea-themed vessel.
As to the question of our rescue mission, I am here simply because I couldn't not be. The first (of very few) persons to simultaneously show kindness and to take seriously such a ridiculous creature as myself.... well, isn't that the kind of person worth chasing off the edge of the map?"

Shaking his head a final time "Anyway, for business .. I will try and figure finances out for that wonderful staff, but failing that the charming spell gems look ... well... charming." Spec jerks abruptly and begins rapidly rifling through the many pockets in his tweed coat. He eventually pulls out a small dusty media player Aha! One of my students "donated" this by playing it in my last class before I left on this trip. It is full of groups I've never heard of... Mutilatrix, Abysshead, Clang-Clang You're Dead, and RazorSoul Tourniquet to name a few. Maybe you can find some enjoyment ... or at least amusement from it." He hands it over.

Spec spends a few minutes frantically searching through his library chip looking for appropriate witchwyrdian social customs and ceremonies.
Culture: 1d20 + 7 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 4 = 17
He then trundles into the room and greets Sayonsi with his best approximation of a formal witchwyrd welcoming gesture (substituting his wings in light-shifting mode for the missing arms)
"Humble greetings honored traveller, may your wares always find market. Your esteemed presence brings me great joy and I bid you most welcome."
He repeats the gesture again.

"It has been many of my years since last I saw these stars, and being greeted by one such as yourself must be an omen of the highest order.
Let us converse... And then let us commerce!
I await your news and your wares with equally bated breath."

The professor in him is evaluating her reactions and responses to his and the others' conversational attempts.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 + 1d6 ⇒ (13) + 9 + (2) = 24

Assuming Spec returns from his partially-posteriored "mission", he will catch up to Rush after the party

Spec is slightly nonplussed at the reaction to his proposal for the teenage cadets. "We didn't spare those idiots so they could die from exposure out there before they learn anything useful in their brainwashed lives ..."
He gathers a care package himself and tracks down Goraya to ask her for a lift out to BTEP-3 so he can help patch up some of the remaining injuries at the mine.
Medicine: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

During the night, he sneaks off the site and begins trekking about looking for the
Stealth: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14
and begins trekking about carefully looking for the cadets.
Stealth: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 6 + 2 = 16
Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Plan is to try and get close enough to charm one or more of them (DC15) and get them to accept kindness from a completely unthreatening individual, and predispose them more towards the colony that cared about them when Olajra sent them off to die.

The professor spends the first part of the first day wandering around Madelon's Landing telling fairy tales, legends, and other impossible stories to anyone who looks like they could use a pick me up.
Bluff: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (14) + 7 + (3) = 24
-----------------

He ends up following a few of his former listeners over to watch Dalinar's sword demonstration with Prosper (from a nearby rooftop of course). He even pulls out his knife hobbit-style and swings it about, trying to follow along....
Copying Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
...and narrowly avoids stabbing himself in the wing. He hastily puts the knife away and looks around. "Gee, I hope nobody saw that!"

At the conclusion of the demonstration, Spec flutters down and tries to play it cool.
"Hey there Dalinar, lookin pretty sharp hehe...uhh. Ahem, I mean excellent demonstration, I hope your students benefit greatly from your impressive skills... Prosper here sure seems to have done well!"
He gestures respectfully with his wing towards Prosper.
"There is something on my mind though, and I'm hoping that at least one of you might be able to assist me. I'm concerned about the wandering cadet remnant. I would love for them to be able to turn over a new leaf, but I really think that we need to check on them before just leaving them here .... Are either of you interested in checking it out?"

Spec forcibly closes his chattering beak and hops quietly in place.

Suddenly terrified into competence, Spec enters a last second correction to his targeting that just manages to connect
-----------------

After the sudden explosion, the professor peruses the debris field to try and discern what occurred
"We didn't hit it THAT hard did we?"
Computers: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

"Aha! I didn't think so, that explosion was entirely out of proportion to the applied force.... hmmmm ...

Gentlefolk, the imperials are even crazier than I thought (which is saying something). That ship was set to conditionally self destruct before it even commenced battle..... caution seems to be warranted."

Spec peers around the corner at the commotion, and upon seeing the Lieutenant, suffers a palpable surge of revulsion. Revulsion that he promptly channels in her direction

She hears in her head "बेचारी लेफ्टिनेंट शारू ... वह भी नहीं जानती कि उसे यहाँ क्यों निर्वासित किया गया ... इतना दुखी ... इतना कमजोर..."

Mind Thrust - Will Save 14
Psychic Damage: 2d10 ⇒ (10, 1) = 11

Spec scurries into the room and shoots past Rush
"I'll show you bumble ..hrrmph"

Zap: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4
Electric Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

... And of course bumble is exactly what the professor does...(hopefully noone needed that wallscreen)

Well, at least he makes sure Dalinar looks suitably epic by comparison.

Spec flaps up high enough to try and sneak a shot at Green

Zap: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Electrical Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

.... But crashes drunkenly into the ceiling, discharges the weapon directly into the bulkhead, and in general contributes very little.

Spec trots over to try and get a glimpse of the (hopefully) flare-lit zombie.

"Uh, Prosper ... pretty much nobody has extra brains hanging around"

And he promptly proves this point by hauling out his static arc pistol, then stopping to figure out how to take the safety off.

Spec hops up and down at the back of the group like a small child at the fair.
"I ..... can't .... see......but,"
He stops bouncing and sniffs deeply

Mysticism: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

"That smells like old zombie guys .... these have been here longer than the cadets"

Then he turns to the terminal to see if there is a way to get the lights on in the room (without reactivating the AI).

Computers: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Spec steps through the hatch from the engineroom and sort of just .....tips over with a sound like a down pillow being knocked off a bed.

He spends his 10 minutes caressing the deck and attempting to convince it to accept his remaining static charge.
"No more fluff, yes that's right ... no more fluffy-crackly-badness right now..... aaah. Thank you."

Reflex vs Blue: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Reflex vs Purple: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Spec twitches wildly for a second as every single one of his feathers sticks straight out from his body in a crackling puff.

Oww ..... why does it always smell like chicken when that happens?

He takes another second to try and rechannel the residual feather static into a bit of a dispersal field Set Faerie Feathers to Resist Electric 2 next round and attempts to assist in Blue's forced retirement

PACIFY!: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2

Spec takes careful aim at Purple, fires,
Attack: 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 1 - 2 = 11
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 1
and instead barely manages to keep inside the hovertrike as the sudden burst of acceleration throws him backwards and his shot high.

Spec pops his head out of the bush, spits out a few leaves, and spies Purple in a similar predicament.

"Aha! Subdued by a shrubbery! Stay still you slimy snake!"

Spec hauls up his rifle and fires
Pacify!: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 4
... but unfortunately failed to take into account the branches in the way.

Spec searches through his library chip, looking for information about Bolida cultural traditions, especially involving the guest gift, territorial disputes/resolutions, and young rearing practices.

Culture: 1d20 + 6 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 6 + 4 = 25

There's got to be some way to get the people out of there while respecting their regional sovereignty

Upon seeing the apparently random pattern of cave in occurrences, the professor sets up a data query to scour his new mystical library chip for references to any sort of magical beastie that causes or is related to cave-ins.

With that running in the background, Spec wanders around attempting to interview the miners who might have seen or heard something in the vicinity of the incidents. He learns that miners are, in general, a rather unobservant bunch, as no-one seems to have seen anything (because of course being questioned by a strange little bird-man should always take priority over trying to actively dig one's friends out of a hole in the ground, right?) "Well, thanks anyway fellas!" Spec calls as he waves at their turned backs.

"Well, they say there's no school like old school" Spec mumbles to himself as he takes wing to overfly some of the areas of note looking for any sign of beasties in the area.

He swoops back into the staging area just as Minos finishes his mining advice immediately blurts out at top speed "Hey Chief, so there is definitely something moving around out there, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is. It's really too bad that none of your miners saw anything, because having eyewitness accounts could really pull this information together, of course corroboration is always ....." Spec stops short a half-second and then apologizes "Oops, sorry about that.. ahem. Anyhow, I did notice that the incidents aren't quite as random as they seem, see if you look here, and you add in the time-sequence, and cross-reference the digging attempts with the relative disturbance of the.."
At that moment, the comm unit that He is trying to show Sam everything on chimes softly
"Oh yay, my search is done. Let's see here ... oh ... why hello beastie, what have we here?"

with Ludvar
Spec squeaks sofly as he is nearly crushed, then awkwardly Pat's Ludvar on the back. "There there dear fellow.. no thanks are really necessary, for isn't the duty of all decent folk to help others when they are able? We must give when the Cosmic Light allows in order to be able to take when the Great Shadow demands... Balance in all things."

Spec gets off his unintentional soapbox and chuckles a bit

"Now, if you feel as if this is your time to give, I'm sure some custom tricks on the Teapot would allow us to balance those Azlanti huh?"
-----------
That night...

Spec spends the night perched in his quarters, communing with Osoro. He seeks understanding of these strangers he's become entwined with.... and receives twisting shadows as a response. He awakes reempowered, but not at all encouraged.
---------

in the morning
Spec pokes Minos. "Shouldn't you give Madelon's the datapad you found in his house?"

"Welcome aboard Goraya. The bike is a great idea, but do you have enough defensive equipment to make it back on your own? ....

Also, we should take the other ones too"

Before bedding down for the night, Spec grabs the voicebox and flies off to find Ludvar and give it back to him before something happens where he will really need it.

Culture: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Spec will explain the minutiae of the relevant cultural Azlanti references to anyone who is interested.
------
"Uh oh guys. No rest for the Mysterious Seven today (or at least not much). It looks like the worst of these fluffsnorters are out at this Royal Venture location. We should probably go and get rid of them too right?"
------
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (8) + 8 + (3) = 19
The professor emits a high pitched tittering noise... probably laughter? ... and cannot resist calling calling out to the others and ensuring the sad little fraud who threatened to make his people into pillows is thoroughly posthumously humiliated!
------
a little later
"Hey all, did anyone find the voice box for that poor guy who was writing on the slate ....Ludo, or Lidar, or Lomar, or something like that?"

Spec would like to insinuate to Blue that there is a vulnerability in his cover ... exposing something rather tender

Clever Feint
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 2 + (4) = 13 If successful, opponent is flat footed to everyone until the end of Spec's next turn

But just ends up looking like that one time a student put Arizipalian jumping-fire ants into his jacket.

During the 10-minute break
Spec wanders over to slightly-wounded-Dalinar and compassionately (healing) touches him on the shoulder to restore 5 HP. ”Hang in there noble friend”
-------------

But ultimately concludes that the stress of the situation must be interfering with his long-term memory … (because it could never be due to getting older … right?) Maybe a quick browse through the base records later on will jog his memory?
"Sorry Minos, I feel like I should remember something, but it's just static right now .... Maybe we can research it more later?"

First things first, Spec would like to see if the signal jammer in the ceiling comes off.

Secondly, he asks "Would one of you please come with me? Knowing these cadets, I am very uncomfortable leaving closed doors unopened and behind us!"

Spec wants to investigate rooms 5 and 6

He belatedly looks up and realized Minos is heading off to the storeroom and says "Oh, yes ... That answers that.... Wait for me!"
And scurries off after his tall friend.

Spec runs in on his stubby little legs and begins to try and convince Pink that a spider is on their head .. through expressive pantomime!

Clever Feint
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 2 + (3) = 24 {If successful, opponent is flat footed to everyone until the end of Spec's next turn}

Spec feels like he's really beginning to connect with the Green cadet and decides to mess with him some more.

He yells in Azlanti "वह वास्तव में हरे रंग का नहीं है, आप अपने शापित काले चश्मे को उतार दें।!"

Clever Feint
Bluff: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (7) + 6 + 2 + (5) = 20 {If successful, opponent is flat footed to everyone until the end of Spec's next turn}

"For the love of cookies and milk you guys! Pon, will you go help our engineers at the back door, and the rest of us will go play in the killbox?

Hummus and chips, kids these days!"

Spec nods along with Minos. "Yes, yes indeed, additional appendages and human armor do not good bedfellows make.

He peers down at the map "Maybe this is a stupid civilian question, but why don't we go in the back door?"

He raps a talon over the door into room 4.

"This entryway here at room 1, there is something about it.... I think there is a term for restricted single-entry locations where unknown numbers of enemies can get to the same location from multiple other opposed points ... was it pilc?..no, .. cruzf?.., not that either ... something box .. targeting box?, jack in the box? .. noo, umm hotbox?....definitely not that...KILLLBOX! that was it! from Riedolph Flurme's The Modern Warrior, chapter 20." page 204 parag..."
He grins happily that he managed to recall the information .... then realizes he wandered off topic again ...

"Killbox is bad right?"

Spec excitedly pipes up "Burmph amurhbt durobcah..."
Looking mortified at his social gaffe, he carefully swallows the small smoked fish he had inadvertently pulled from his sandwich.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry about that. Ahem, what I had intended to ask was 'What about the hobgar damage on the building? Can we assume that anything will be operating as intended after that?"

---------Flashback------------
It looks like an alley-ish sort of passageway, the kind that run behind many of the storage facilities in the Spike, dingy, cramped, and dark with the promise of things so much worse than tetanus.

Crouching behind a crate at the obstructed end is a rather disheveled looking ysoki, spattered in what a reasonable person would hope was just paint.

Near the open end a pair of figures step into the flickering light of a failing overhead glow-strip. The larger of the two (if 4 feet could be said to be large) sports a cannon-like weapon and a suit of heavy plated armor is barely visible through the massively tangled beard and glowing cigar. The other is even smaller, black-on-black 3-piece suit and trench coat. His now-deep charcoal feathers are slicked back, and faintly luminous orange eyes unshaded by any lenses. He clips a badge displaying a wide-open eye to his coat and approaches the ysoki.

”C’mon out Nicky” he drawls in an almost bored tone ”You know ya ain’t got nowhere to go, and the Sivellis are offering terms to get ya back. A better deal ain’t comin’ any…”

Nicky screams in despair ”NEVER!” and begins unloading his pistol down the corridor.

The other two dive for cover and wait to hear him reload. Spectrum shakes his head and comms to his partner ”It’s always the crazy ones that doesn’t listen, am I right? You know the drill, I get him to stick his head out, you take it off with Myabel there” He receives a monosyllabic grunt in reply.

The pistol clicks empty and Spectrum starts forward with arms raised ”Nicky, Nicky, settle down fella. You knows we ain’t here to hurt ya, we's just here to find ya and extend the offer to…” The ysoki’s head starts to peer around the crate, and Spectrum immediately jukes to one side and light bursts from his feathers.

Predictably, Nicky jerks away from the light, but unfortunately raises his head a little too high … at which point it promptly vanishes in a thundering retort.

”Well Grimm, we ain’t gettin paid much for this one, but at least those Sivelli girls are safe now!” To absolutely no one's surprise, Grimm grunts again.
---------End Flashback------------

Spec remembered his youth (decades ago), where he attended the School of Hard Knocks with the Eyeswide Agency … long before the Arcanamirium let him in.

This is represented by a level of Envoy with Expertise in Bluff and Sense Motive, along with the Clever Feint Improvisation.
He also dredged up a goodly number of previously forgotten skills including points in Bluff, Computers, Stealth and Survival (specifics in profile)

As Spec flutters down into the fray, he lands between the hobgars and a teenager. He taps the boy on the side and asks "Pardon me mi'boy, could you just lean to the... thaaank you!"

He gets a glimpse of the Orange soldier, and in turn shows him what it's like to be a victim

Casts Mind Thrust
Psychic Damage: 2d10 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7 DC14 Will for half

A nearby colonist notices Orange's discomfiture and begins whacking him with a handy bag of ... turnips?
Riot Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 5

"C'mon Minos, the distraction is in full swing! Let's get over to the not-gonna-be-an-execution."

With that Spec starts flying from rooftop to rooftop to get to the execution site. (Absently humming "Hooked on a Feeling" as he goes)

Spec pours one of his healing serums into his beak with a shuddering claw.

"Ow. Right then. If you'll give me one of those electric guns you salvaged off the drones, I can fly up and try to short out the hobgar cage to sow some discord. Meanwhile, the rest of you combat-inclined folks can rush straight to the execution site and stop it. I'll meet you there as soon as possible afterwards.

Would that help?"

Reflex: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Spec's tiny frame is essentially crushed to the floor by the force of the sound. When he drags himself to his feet a few seconds later, there is more red than grey in his feathers.

He groans out "Li ser serê te xezeb dike Wint!" into the alarm's din, then after shaking some of the blood away moves for the door as he triggers his comm unit, hoping the AbadarTech noise filters work like the salesrat said they would.

"Let's regroup a few units north where we might actually be able to hear what Goraya's saying"

The professor sees Wint's confusion over the "storming the castle" term, and waddles over to try and teach the young skittermander about the wondrous history of so many planets' medieval ages. He comes up behind Wint and gets a glimpse of the entry on the datapad. His beak slowly drops open and he staggers off shaking his head while muttering "Oh,... oh my, oh my... I've never ... Why would they.. Oi, young mammals these days.." his original purpose completely forgotten...

He eventually snaps out of his daze, although he eyes Dalinar somewhat appraisingly. "Well then, ahem, recreational habits of modern youth aside, maybe the decision regarding the hobgars' trap might depend on what we want them to do. It seems if we wanted their newly-released antics to distract Garrison while we went in the back, the only releasing them before the assault would be prudent. On the other hand, if we want them to provide general cover and various sensor-related malfeasance, then releasing them now and taking a break to let them spread out might be better."

He looks around "I am personally in favor of creating general mayhem and using that to rendezvous with the resistance and ensure we are not out of the loop of developments."

Spec looks excitedly at Prosper and shakes the paper at him. "Hey, hey, isn't this exactly the report that Goraya was asking about? It looks like her family is ok! ...at least for now"

He then hops over to Minos and asks "Umm, Minos? Could you take a look at this cupboard door for a minute? There is a boot print on it that I'm curious if it belongs to a standard jackbooted thug, or something bigger? .... or, I suppose comparing it to Pon's might be easier.."
...
...
...
"Oh look, a datapad ... is that new?"

Spec peers at the moving water and attempts to remember anything mystical that could cause that effect.
Mysticism: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

"In typically Azlanti fashion, there is probably something in there against it's will that has been instructed to limit water distribution, just like Prosper said"

He nods in Prosper's direction.

"I don't know if they're nanomachines or something else, but it sure seems like they appreciate that song, and maybe the language?"

At the Ambush site
Spec continues to pat her on the shoulder encouragingly. "Miss Goraya, unless you are strongly opposed to accompanying us to the collector, I would much appreciate the assistance of your musical talents in unraveling this moisture conundrum. Water is not generally known for any psychic resonance when confronted with song, so that tells me that something may be afoot"
------------------

At the Collector

Spec semi-deferentially calls out"Um, Pon? Maybe before we trigger any sort of unpleasantness from disturbing the water and whatever sort of countermeasures there are, we can oserve the phenomenon Miss Goraya noted earlier regarding her song? It didn't trigger anything before after all."
Assuming she is hanging back off the edge of the map, waiting to be called

Spec looks up from where he was intently picking at the pairof rifles... Trying to figure out why they weren't working..
"Oh, yes, mrhmmph.. I am sometimes known as the professor, this is true."

He attempts to smile encouragingly at her (which may or may not work on an owl's face)

"And there is no impertinence to the pursuit of knowledge my dear. Quite simply, I AM from the P... well, technically no, I.. not born there... lived there most of...(looking for general information, not.. this) Ahem!"
He clears his throat rather harshly and looks slightly abashed. "Sorry, I guess there's nothing simple about it after all. My people are the xaursi, and once upon a time we had a small interstellar nation in what you call the Vast. Something bad happened, and the Empire was more than happy to ensure we never recovered.

The professor's gaze darkens "I assure you I love them not for their actions..." He visibly forces away the memories. "But enough of that gloom dearie, what is it that we can do for you?"

During the mad dash to get to the screaming damsel, Spec inadvertently found himself far closer to a drone than he had any real desire to be.

WOAH! This is a little too close for comfort ...
"back, back, back, back.."

He mates his actions to his words and carefully steps back, brings up his rifle, and fires at Blue.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
Cold Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6 non-lethal
Crit Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

"Aha! Take that you viridian villain!"

Spec takes a deep breath and nods firmly at Pon.
He picks up the comm unit, and just for a moment, pictures what it would be been like to have parents... Or to be more than a racial footnote. If not for THEM!!

The timid little professor squares his shoulders, and in his vivid orange eyes floats the predator that might have been.

He keys the comm and snaps into it (using heavy breathing and angry bosses to mask clicking noises) "इन शापित मडबॉलरों ने कब्रिस्तान में हमारे दस्ते को संगठित और हमला किया।" . He shouts muffled squad orders into the distance
"हमने उनसे निपटा है और वर्तमान में हमारे लोगों पर जाँच कर रहे हैं। आदेश?

C'mon professor, it's just like hunting wibbitz.. or whatever Wint was talking about...

He squeezes one eye shut and fires at Red again.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Cold Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2 non-lethal
Miss 1-50: 1d100 ⇒ 14

but apparently shut the eye that was supposed to be using the sights!

Where did that one go? ... Did it actually go off? ..Or did I forget to plug it in again last night? Oh bother!

Spec casts Ghost Sound
A crunch of branches sounds from beneath the tree, morphing into gasping breath and panicked footfalls that appear as if someone was bolting from the undergrowth towards the cemetery.... Flushed, as it were, by the cadets' casually cruel commentary.

Hoping to engage the tendency for bullies to charge in to capitalize on perceived weaknesses

In response to Prosper, Spec surreptitiously casts Ghost Sound a few times in succession.

The intent is that the sounds be focused at Prosper such that they seem much louder than they actually are

From in front of Prosper, a wail suddenly bursts through the air. It quiclky drops off into choked sobs and retreats with shuffling steps into the misty woods over about 6 seconds.

Just as the crying fades out, low and unearthly moaning seems to pulse in and out just slightly out of sync with what little breeze is present. oddly enough, also lasting 6 seconds

A few seconds of silence follow the moaning before a deep and sinister chuckle, punctuated with the crackle of splintering bone rises from what seems like inches behind Prosper's neck.

Waiting a good 30 seconds more, Spec innocently asks "Would anything like that work for your plan Prosper?"

Spec trundles up quickly at the burst of Azlanti speech.
”They’re waiting for the accounting, and impatiently at that. Randall, focus! Do you have an accounting or inventory of the supplies?”

Assuming an answer in the affirmative

”Then quickly remove anything you need to keep hidden, because we are going to have to send them something.”

“Pon, come here” With urgent beckoning. ”Can you imitate that kid’s bored tone and inflection if I give you the lines? My beak can’t make the sounds right… too many clicks”

Assuming Pon also answers in the affirmative

”Great! So what we’re going to tell them is that it took a minute to get Randall to complete the inventory, but we are standing by to transmit the accounting on a secure frequency. So, say this:
“अरे, वहाँ अपने अंतरिक्ष-घोड़ों को पकड़ो! इस कीचड़-गेंदबाज को "समझाने" में कुछ मिनट लगे कि उसे निर्णय लेने के बहाने की बजाय साम्राज्य की जरूरतों का अनुमान लगाना चाहिए। आप जानते हैं कि यह कैसा है।
कम से कम अब लेखांकन किया जाता है, और एक बोनस के रूप में कीचड़-बॉलर ने "एक मूल्यवान सबक सीखा है" .. हे हे …”
Then clear your throat and shift to a slightly more professional tone and say:
“ट्रांसमिशन के लिए तैयार लेखा प्रकट। अस्थायी सुरक्षित कनेक्शन की स्थापना का अनुरोध करें”

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
"Aahh ... Do you think they're alright down there? Is it normal for humans to have non-domestic-yet-co-located disputes at times like this?"