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"But I would assume you have some ideas where we should start at the very lest?"

Chiskisk leaned back.

We would like to use this area as a home base for a while.

Chiskisk cocked his head at Max.

He turned and punched in several commands on his computer.
"The Society has transferred 200 credits to each of your personal financial accounts. A 'signing bonus' as they say."
Each of your personal devices pings a 'payment received' chime.
"If you have not yet found a place to stay, we recommend a small hotel called 'The Moons of Sleep'. Located just a short walk from the parks and towers of the Eye, the hotel is centrally located and has both efficiencies and suites available. Furthermore, the Moons offers discounted lodging to Starfinders who book rooms for at least a week's stay; 16 credits per week for an efficiency, or 50 credits per week for a small, two-bed suite."

Chiskisk leaned forward.
Our understanding is that you are interested in becoming Sarfinders, and since you were witnesses to the attack, We would like to ask you to investigate the incident on behalf of the Society.

It may simply be a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time--We have no doubt station security will rule it so--but if Duravor was murdered, we would like to find justice for our friend.
At the same time, this will give you the opportunity to demonstrate your own skills and abilities and show the Society that you are worthy of the title "Starfinder".

What puzzles us is the reason behind the attack.

Chiskisk turns and taps a few commands into their computer.
According to the incident report just released by station security, two gangs were involved in the attack: the Downside Kings and the Level 21 Crew.
Gang wars are not uncommon on the station, but they usually confine themselves to the more lawless sectors like the Puddles.
It is rare for street gangs to battle openly in public areas like the docks.
We cannot help but wonder whether all is as it seems.
There must be a reason why those two gangs were at Docking Bay 94 at that particular time--the time of your arrival, coincidentally.
But was it coincidence?
Were you and duravor just innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire, or might you and he have been specifically targeted?
And if so, why?

Greetings gentlebeings... the shirren said, this time telepathically into all your minds at once.

It is good to meet you; we are Chiskisk, Absalom Station Councillor to the Forum of the Starfinder Society.

We are sorry that we cannot welcome you to Absalom Station under better circumstances.
We assure you that such attacks are not a daily occurrence, though we realize that is likely small comfort to you.
We are pleased that none of you were seriously hurt, but we grieve for Duravor's death.
He was a valued member of the Society, and a friend.
May the Lady of Graves be kind in her judgement of his soul.

The shirren bows their head momentarily, then looks up, their compound eyes glittering.

"Is something the matter, you seem..."

"Ah, well..." the shirren started.

The shirren arched its antennae at Max as he spoke, touched a couple of colored lights in the plastic desk, and a quadruple espresso with lots of milk froth arose next to Max.

"Greeting gentlebeings," The Shirren said aloud.
He touched a glowing part of his desk, and a number of plates and mugs rose silently into view. (An elegant display of filtered water and processed-protein wafers, safe for everyone in the pact worlds.)
"Refreshments?" He asked, his antennae flexing from side to side.