Please dot in here...
It is the day after the official induction ceremonies, and though some of you may have gone on missions with the Starfinder Society before, this induction makes it official. You are Starfinders now!
As is typical for the Starfinder Society, the fist set of missions is intended to allow you to learn more about the Society's works, and the factions that make up the Society. You know from your discussions during training and earlier missions that you will be expected to align yourself primarily with one of the factions, but will likely be working for all during your career as a Starfinder.
You received a summons to the Lorespire complex, HQ for the Society at large, to meet with Guidance, the AI controlling much of the day to day operations of the Starfinder Society. Guidance will be responsible for tasking you out to the various faction leaders who may have some small jobs for you to do. This is your chance to make a good impression, and to see which faction you might want to align yourself with.
As you entered the office you were summoned to, you looked around to see yourself in an outer office. It was luxuriously appointed with comfortable looking chairs, a credenza, and an administrative assistant's desk, manned by an androgynous android with aqua skin.
"I am afraid that Guidance's attention has been called away for a moment to deal with matters of great importance to the Society. If you will all please wait here, I am sure it will be only a few more minutes. There are refreshments in that cabinet beside you if you wish. If you aren't familiar with the factions heads and their groups, there are handouts on the table there."
The blue-green skinned android smiled briefly at you and indicated a mahogany cabinet well stocked with non-alcoholic drinks and small snacks suitable for a variety of physiologies before turning his attention back to a data terminal.
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The android in the corner is so nondescript as to practically fade from memory as soon as he's viewed; his dull blue skin has almost no sheen, and his circuitry does not glow like others of his kind. He wears a drab brown long-coat of some canvas-like material, under which can be seen a clean but well-worn suit of second-skin. His flat eyes watch the halfling's performance, but almost nothing can be read of them, giving one the unsettling sense of a shark eyeing up a swimmer's leg, deciding whether or not to bite.
When Bodo is finished, the android claps awkwardly and arrhythmically. "That was very good." There's almost no emphasis on the syllables. One might get a more enthusiastic compliment from a Speak 'n Spell.
"I am Reconnaissance Model Zero. Most just call me REMO." He doesn't wait for others to introduce themselves. He simply walks over to the handouts and rifles through them for a moment, frowning. He turns to the other android. "Excuse me. Assistant to Guidance. I see informational handouts on four Starfinder factions. Are there not five?"
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Standing at the cabinet of food is a very small, light brown ysoki. She is busily stuffing her cheeks with a variety of foods while also reviewing the data screen on her arm. Once she has cleared several plates, she walks by the stack of handouts and flicks a hand at them, "No need for those. I've got what I need on the Infosphere." She jumps onto one of the the chairs and calls out, "Diggz! Come join me." A small, six-legged robot seems to appear from next to the cabinet of food and moves over to the ysoki, climbing the chair as if it were the floor.
Once the halfling finishes playing his song, the ysoki states, "I'm Kis. This is Diggz. Where do you think we are off to first?", addressing all assembled.
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A stout Ferran listens appreciatively to Bodo's performance, sampling a few of the phrases. "Very nice!"
After a few swipes at his data pad, he plays back a remix with a dance beat. To himself, "Hmm...needs some work."
"I'm DJ Event Horizon, but you can call me DJ." Turning to address Kis. "Well met, Kis. I believe we can choose which of the faction leaders we visit first. Personally I'm looking forward to meeting Historia-7."
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From her perch on the luxurious chair, Kis addresses DJ, "Really, I'm fine with anything. I just want to see what's out there, you know? Not much to see in the Diaspora, really. I dig the beats though." After a brief pause, she adds, "What do you think, Diggz?" The drone directs itself towards the ferran and holds up one of its appendages, lifting one of the three digits on the presented 'hand'. "He liked it too."
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A reddish tinged insectoid walks in chittering excitedly, "वाह, मैंने कभी यह विश्वास नहीं किया होगा, लेकिन वहां है! ओह, और किसने सोचा होगा!"
He seems overly focused on a datapad clutched in his tarsus; a casual glimpse reveals a split screen between two trashy news tabloids, both dedicated to conspiratorial ideas on both ends of the political spectrum. As her tympanum walks into the beat laid down by Bodo, they quickly loses focus on his reading materials, her mouth parts moving quickly in time with the rhythm. "Ooooh, more, more! he exclaims excitedly when Bodo stops, "I was only just beginning to hear the hidden message in your song."
"Hello all I am Xerric. Did I hear something about choosing a faction? Oooooh, what did you pick? Why did you pick that one?" She prattles on about the potential faction choice, asking each in turn their rationale, always taking a moment to read the datapad whenever the notification chime sounds.
Responding to REM-0, the assistant says, "To be exact, there are eleven registered factions in the Starfinder Society - of which four are considered primary factions - and several dozen unofficial ones that we know of. However, I suppose your real question is why the Second Seekers faction is not listed. The Seekers are dedicated to pursuing the agenda of the Society at large, as represented by the current First Seeker, and are thus not considered to be one of the primary factions, which have fixed objectives."
Doing a quick headcount, the assistant stated, "There were supposed to be six of you, were there not? I hope for his sake that your missing companion turns up before your meeting with Guidance is over. Speaking of...Guidance will see you now."
The android pushed a button on its desk and the double doors leading to the next chamber slid open with a quiet sound.
As the doors slide open, a green holographic image of a middle-aged human woman shimmers into view at the center of the room. “Greetings,” it says. “I am Guidance. Please use the cheek swabs in the open receptacle to provide a genetic sample for Starfinder Society identification purposes. If desired, you may place your hand on the glowing panel to receive a subdermal implant further marking you as a member of the Society.”
Guidance continued, "It is our pleasure to officially welcome you into the Starfinder Society. Today is the commencement of your new role as a Starfinder field agent. It is our tradition, at the end of the graduation ceremony, for new graduates to present themselves to the heads of our most prominent factions and complete a task at those leaders’ behest. This allows the leaders of these groups to become familiar with all new Starfinder agents, and it provides a constant supply of agents for handling situations in our holdings on Absalom Station. While these tasks were formerly symbolic, the heavy loss of Starfinder agents in the Scoured Stars necessitates that these missions become something more. Please treat any tasks given with the gravity you would grant any other Starfinder assignment."
"On the table beside you is a handout describing the various factions within the Starfinder Society. Please visit each of the faction leaders and perform the tasks they set you. In doing so, you will learn more about the Society, and simultaneously show the faction leaders your various skills. Once a leader's mission has been completed, they will signal me that they are satisfied with your performance. Once all of your missions are complete, please return to me here to finish your commencement ceremonies."
"Do you have any questions for me before you begin?"
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DJ gives the check swab and presents his hand for the implant. Once he has the implant he plays with it to see how quickly he can turn it on and off - trying to get it to strobe.
Turning back to Guidance, he asks, "Do any of these mission have more of a time constraint? Should we be prioritizing them in any way?"
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REMO swabs his cheek, then studies the palm reader. "Fascinating. I don't see any..." He places his hand on it, and feels the light prick as the implant is injected. He raises it to his face. "Ohhh, okay. Interesting."
He walks in and listens attentively to Guidance. He studies her face carefully while the AI speaks, watching facial movements, trying to gauge how close to standard humanoids they made her. After she finishes speaking, he presses his comm unit's REC function. "Note," he mutters. "Compare current data on facial movements to those of artificial intelligence for records. Forward useful findings to Starfinders."
He nods at DJ's questions. "Mm. Prioritization would make for better efficiency. I doubt the faction leaders are looking for expedience over correct completion of the tasks, but there is no reason not to do both, if we can." He turns to Guidance. "Also, are all four here in the Lorespire Complex, or will we be traveling?"
"I have no direct knowledge of the tasks that will be set before you, so I cannot tell you in which order you should proceed."
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Xerric swabs his cheek, the thin plastic wand not quite designed to reach past her mouth parts. Afterwards Xeric thrusts out their hand into the machine which takes two distinct kerchunk noises before the implant is can make it through his thick carapace.
She listens intently to the conversation, "I think we should start with with Dataphiles. No no, the Wayfinders. No, even better, the Acquisitives. I know, you decide, we'll talk about it and decide again!"
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Before taking the cheek swab, Kis disgorges all the food from her cheek pouches into a waste receptacle, "I was hoping to keep that for later." She takes the swab and runs it inside her cheek before placing her hand on the panel. "Do you have anything for tracking Diggz?" Turning to REM-0, she adds, "I think the Wayfinders are based within the Armada. I suggest we start here on the station before making our way out to them."
Guidance's assistant said, as you were all leaving and discussing your plans, "Historia-7's offices are 5 floors down, in the Archives."
You thanked it and headed downstairs to visit the leader of the dataphiles. Her offices are in a section of the Archives known as the Archive's Cortex, a computerized matrix containing the digitized records of the Starfinder Society's most prominent discoveries.
The android is reclined on a raised chair and is plugged into the local infosphere when the doors open. The neural cables detach themselves from her neck as she swivels in her seat to address the new arrivals. “Greetings, Starfinders,” she says calmly. “I am Historia-7. If you are seeking a mission from me, please be aware that my request requires both discretion and speed. Do not accept it if you feel incapable of working within these parameters."
“I discovered someone recently hacked into Bluerise Tower’s computer systems and stole a large amount of sensitive data from the resident corporations. I wish to be privy to this information. I managed to trace the hacker’s location through many proxies and erased the trail so that station and corporate security should be delayed in their pursuit. This deception will not fool them for long, so you must move quickly to retrieve the data before they can recover it. I will leave you to decide what to do with the hacker afterward, but should it be feasible, I believe that person would be an asset to the Society.”
"I have traced the hacker to a flat in Drifter's End, a low-rent tenement in the Ring District. Using available public transit, it should take no more than a half hour to arrive, plus or minus 5 minutes."
"What part of discretion and speed was unclear? No, never mind, let me spell it out for you. No matter what you do, it does not come back to the Starfinder Society. That said, I would prefer that you do not engage StatSec with lethal intent. They barely tolerate our operations as it is, and I have no desire for them to bring the Justicars down on us. As for private security...let's just say that they are more likely to have murder on their minds than StatSec. Let that be your guide. Again, I cannot stress enough that you use discretion in this matter. The Corporations in Bluerise Tower could make for powerful enemies, but what they don't know won't hurt us."
The address given by Historia-7 points you to an apartment block that resembles a cement cube in the midst of a collection of more cement cubes. On Absolom Station, the only place lower on the social scale might be underground in the sewers. Still, the unit you were sent to looks well-kept. The porch has several tomato plants in plastic containers, and not much else. On the porch was a young human man, barely out of childhood, hand-pollinating the tomato plants. The door to the flat was open, revealing a living room packed with bags of potting soil, fertilizer, gardening tools, and various knickknacks.
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REMO looks around, studying the area for threats. "I have apprehended marks in this neighborhood before." He pauses, looks around, and looks down. "Oh, no. It was the sewers beneath. Still, let's be on our guard." At Xerric's question, he shakes his head. "Not me. I am still learning the finer details of humanoid interaction."
He leaves his tactical pistol in its quick-release sheath built into his leg, but makes sure to scan the young man for anything in his posture or behavior that might be out of the ordinary.
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"Hopefully not too much excitement", says DJ, grinning widely.
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Addressing Xerric as they head out, "From what I've heard, Historia-7 can be very blunt and direct, but she's one of the best in the business."
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Addressing Xerric, "Since time is short, we should probably just play it by ear. Don't want to keep Historia-7 waiting, now do we."
"Umm...okay, I g-g-guess. J-j-j-ust g-g-g-growing t-t-t-tomatoes.
The boy looks warily around, trying to determine why a handful of strangers is approaching him like this. REM-0 can tall from his body language that the boy is very uncomfortable with this. He can also tell that the stutter is likely a part of the boy's normal speech patterns, and not just caused by fear or other emotion.
Umm...w-w-w-why d-d-d-do y-y-y-you t-t-t-talk about m-m-m-my st-st-st-stutter like th-th-th-that? It's n-n-n-not polite. W-w-w-what d-d-d-do y-y-y-you w-w-w-want?"
"G-g-g-gran! S-s-s-some people here w-w-w-want to come in and t-t-t-talk!"
From the back room, an older woman walks out, dusting flour from her hands. She is a wizened old human woman wearing an apron over a light blue abaya.
"What's all this about, then? Who are you, and why should we allow a handful of strangers armed to the teeth into our home?"
"Is there a reason you do not wish to tell me why you want to enter my home? This is very suspicious. Perhaps I should call Station Security."
The woman looked uncertain for a moment, then motioned for you all to come inside. The living area was completely filled with gardening supplies, making it difficult to find any place to sit.
"I'm still not sure what this has to do with either of us, but go on. Jubair, why don't you make us some tea?"
The boy, presumably Jubair, wandered off into the kictchen area.
The woman seems unsure of her own statement. As if she doesn't know if she was involved or not
"Hacking? Oh dear. Oh dear."
The woman's eyes assumed the thousand-yard stare that is common with someone accessing an internal memory bank. For a moment, she said nothing, then her shoulders slumped.
"I...there's some files in my short-term storage. I have no recollection of how they got there. It's happening again, isn't it? I'm...I'm sorry. I must seem like such a freak right now. My name is Ceren, but in my younger days I was known among hacker circles as C3r3x. I was quite a good data slicer. A dozen years or so back, I was diagnosed with an incurable degenerative brain disease, which forced me into retirement. I moved in with my daughter and her husband, and gained guardianship of Jubair when they were killed in a flyer accident. Sorry, my mind wanders sometimes. Anyways, I have some gray market augmentations that have halted the damage and keep me functional, but I occasionally have blackouts and sometimes slip into a younger mindset. One that is a little freer with other peoples' information than is wise...or legal. I'm guessing that's what happened here. Do you know whose files I have? I don't want to access them in this state, for fear of activating sniffers."