The ride in the Ringtrain is uncomfortable and cramped, and Orlam staggers out as soon as the doors open. He glances up toward the spinning compass star, but tries not to gawk at the architecture of the famed Lorespire otherwise. Moving through the middle doorway, the kasathas surveys the reception area and moves toward anyone that looks 'official', perhaps seated behind a desk or the like.
"We are here to meet with Venture Captain Chiskisk for an appointment at 11." Orlam pauses, then speaks on. "You may tell him that we bring dire news regarding Duravor Kreel."
Behind the reception desk sits a human woman in professional business attire, her hair cut close to the scalp and her bright cyan-coloured eyes are appearing to glow. As the kasatha approaches the desk, Orlam can see that she has an earpiece in her left ear and she is tapping at a keyboard with one organic hand, and the other is cybernetic.
She looks up at the kasatha and smiles, her hands not even skipping a beat as they continue to type. "Of course, sir. I will page them right away. Please take a seat, and I am sure that Chiskisk will be with you as soon as possible."
The reception area is appointed nicely, with comfortably deep seating arranged in ways to promote conversation and potted plants interspersed pleasingly through the room. As the time ticks by, the steady tapping of fingers on keys and low volume chatter fills the room, before the same receptionist looks up at the group again as she stands. "Chiskisk will see you now if you would like to follow me."
Taking a small plastic card in her hand as she leaves her desk, the receptionist leads the group to a door of frosted glass and waves the card in front of a sensor nearby. With a small series of trills, the door slides into a pocket in the wall and allows viewing into a spacious administration area and some doors leading to small glass-panelled offices along the back walls. She walks to one of the nearest doorways and raps her knuckles lightly against the window. "Your appointment is here, Chiskisk," she says, before nodding in response to something before stepping to the side and ushering the group into the office with a professional flourish.
The office has been appointed similarly to much of the administration area - pleasant with light colours to help it feel more open than it is. Piles of papers are stacked neatly to the side of the room, and a pale wood bookshelf overflows with textbooks and baskets. There are six seats in front of a polished and unadorned plastic desk with a computer terminal set to one side.
A shirren sits at the computer terminal, dressed in an understated business suit with a compass point pinned to the lapel. Chiskisk appears to be nervously flexing their antennae from side to side - a shirren expression of perplexity. As the group begin to file into the office, Chiskisk stands and holds out their hand in greeting. {"Welcome, it is a pleasure to meet you finally,"} they say, their voice telepathically sounded in everyone's mind. {"May I offer you refreshments? Processed-protein wafers, or a glass of filtered water perhaps?"} they ask, waving to a small side table with a plate of little pink wafers, a carafe of clear liquid, and several tumblers set on it.
Rylexi-Sobok stands militarily to the back of the room, while Ranklin pours glasses of filtered water for anyone who wants one, before filling one of the tumblers with a drink for himself and taking a seat on one of the remaining chairs. After everyone has settled, Chiskisk looks over the five recruits sat before him. {"So, if I may enquire - where is Duravor?"}
Mysterra sits in a chair in the waiting room, back ramrod straight and hands on her knees, facing forward in silence.
---
As the receptionist calls for us, Mysterra stands and walks after her in silence, her stride confident but stiff.
"Filtered water would be adequate sustenance. Thank you." Mysterra replies stiffly, then she picks out a chair and sits in it still and silent.
She accepts the offered water from Ranklin and nods at him in thanks.
At Chisisk's question, Mysterra gathers her thoughts. She opens her mouth to speak, but someone else has already started speaking by then, so she closes her mouth again and listens to the conversation in still silence...
"Duravor, well, um, ya see..."
Xera thinks to herself.
"There was a shootout on the docking platform where Duravor was waiting. Six people with lasers. They were shooting at each other but Duravor was caught in the crossfire. He is dead. The station officials have the body."
"The people seemed like two rival gangs. But we have a suspicion that it may have actually been staged, and Duravor was meant to look like an accidental casualty when he may have been the actual target. We think this because as some of the gang members fled, one of them said 'It's Done.' Which makes it seem like more than a random act of violence."
Chiskisk listens intently to Xera's account of the incident in the docking bay. They take a sharp breath of air at the mention of Duravor's death, followed by a strangled keening noise before they manage to regain their composure.
{"I am sorry that I cannot welcome you to Absalom Station under better circumstances - I assure you that such attacks are not a daily occurrence, though I realise that this is likely of little comfort to you. I am pleased that none of you had come to serious harm, but I do grieve for Duravor's death. He is - was - a valued member and colleague of the Society, and was also a dear personal friend,"} Chiskisk says, bowing their head momentarily, and when they look up again, their red compound eyes glitter.
The shirren brings a hand up to their face, tapping a clawed finger against their mandibles. {"I believe you may be on to something, for I too am puzzled by the reason for this attack. Gang wars are sadly not uncommon on the station, but they usually confine themselves to more lawless sectors where station security patrols are less likely. It is rare for two gangs to battle so openly in a publicly patrolled area like the docks."}
{"There must be a reason why those two gangs were at the docking bay at that time - coincidentally the time of your arrival. But was it a coincidence? Were you and Duravor just innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire, or might you and he have been targetted explicitly? And if this is the case, then why?"} Chiskisk reaches to their keyboard and begins to type commands into their terminal. {"You didn't by chance happen to get any information from Duravor before he died?"}
"Only what was on his datapad," Mysterra replies, offering the device to Chisisk. "He only just noticed us when the battle broke out."
After a moment, Mysterra asks, "What was Durovar working on recently? What are his usual duties?"
Orlam speaks in a subdued tone. "My condolences for your loss, I am sure Durovar was a good man. I am Loram, by the way. This is Xera and Mysterra." He gestures toward each of the androids in turn. "As Mysterra has said, we never got the chance to speak with your agent. The shot that brought him down went through his neck, and I expect he died quickly, likely without even knowing what happened. That is why I too believe there may be more to this than an innocent bystander being gunned down. The shot that killed him was very precise, and it happened at the beginning of the attack. It seems an unlikely coincidence, especially given the comment by one of the gang members we overheard."
The kasathas goes on to give a few more details, including how three of the gang members were scruffy in their appearance, and how the other trio were sleekly dressed, all three of the latter managing to escape, and how it was one of them that spoke within Orlam's earshot. After a moment, he adds. "The only other detail we noticed was a tattoo on one of the dead gangers. It read as '21'. Does that mean anything to you?"
Chiskisk shakes their head and makes a chittering noise before continuing his telepathic communication, taking the datapad handed to them by Mysterra. {"Outside of recruitment and mentoring for the Society, Duravor was not involved in any official business at this time, and he was quite vague when I recently inquired as to any personal projects he was undertaking. He had told me that what he had been working towards related tangentially to his work with the Society and may be of benefit to expanding our knowledge of the physical sciences - mining and minerals in particular - but he refused to go into it beyond that."}
As Orlam mentions the tattoo found on the gang members, the shirren turns back to their terminal and types a few more commands into it. {"Sadly, the street culture of Absalom Station is not my speciality, so that number means little to me. However,"} they say, the word trailing off telepathically before they resume communicating. {"Station security have just logged their initial incident report to the public infosphere, and from the witness statements it appears that there were indeed two gangs involved in the attack: the Downside Kings, and the Level 21 Crew."} Chiskisk types another command into the terminal, and a printer in the corner of the office hidden under a pile of papers whirs to life. The shirren stands and strides over to the printer, waiting for the machine to finish.
{"It is my understanding that you are all interested in becoming Starfinders, and since you were witness to the attack, I would like to ask you to investigate this incident on behalf of the Society. Find out exactly what happened and why. It may simply be a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time - and I have no doubt that station security will rule it as such - but if Duravor's life were taken on purpose as we suspect, I would like to find justice for my friend. At the same time, this will give you the opportunity to demonstrate those skills and abilities that you will bring to the Society."}
This is it! My chance! How exciting! I'd better make a good impression...
"Of course," Mysterra replies calmly. "The Downside Kings and the Level 21 Crew. We will accomplish this task for you."
Mysterra operates the custom rig she built into her arm, and uses it to try to look up the territories or other information on the Downside Kings and the Level 21 crew. She'll take the time to sift through incident reports if she has to, in order to infer territories and other information.
"Yes, we can look into it. Though... I can't speak for the others, but I have no experience in conducting investigations."
"These gangs you mentioned... I'm guessing 'Downside' and 'Level 21' are regions within the station, that correspond to the territory of these gangs. Is that right?"
"Do you have any suggestions as to where we should start? I have never been to Absalom Station before."
Chiskisk takes the fresh print-out and returns to their desk, sliding the piece of paper across the desk. {"I am unsure personally as to what deeper significance these groups have hidden within their names, but as known entities on the station there is bound to be information on either them or their activities somewhere. Also, there is the possibility that Duravor was killed due to one of his side projects rather than for his connection to the Society, and while I dislike the thought of dissecting his life now that he is gone, it is a line of inquiry that may yield answers."}
The shirren turns towards the computer terminal once again and types another series of commands into it, before opening a small drawer and pulling out a number of credsticks. {"I have transferred two-hundred credits to each of you - a signing bonus plus enough to hopefully cover some of your expenses,"} they say as they hand everyone a credstick. {"As you are new and perhaps do not have lodgings, I can recommend a small hotel near the Eye called the Moons of Sleep. Advise the clerk that you are contracted by the Society, and they will be in a position to provide a discount on their available rooms."}
Meanwhile, Mysterra effortlessly gains access to the station's infosphere and search engines, allowing her to look up information regarding the two gangs through news articles and publically released incident reports.
"Look at this... Duravor was also an advocate of Miner's Rights. He was involved in mining disputes, particularly against this 'Astral Extractions' corporation. He had a relative who died and though it was an accident it seems that this Astral Extractions was at fault."
"He was also an investor in a group called the Hardscrabble Collective. Since they were friendly to Duravor, they may be a good group to contact first."
Mysterra reads aloud the information she has discovered to everyone in a boring, monotone voice.
"Duravor Kreel was a mid-ranking member of the Starfinder Society. Most of his work focused on mineral prospecting and mining, but he also took an interest in mentoring new and prospective members of the Society."
"The Level 21 Crew are a street gang that claims Level 21 of Absalom Station's seedy lower decks as its territory. Their known criminal endeavours include theft, fencing stolen goods, gambling, prostitution, racketeering, and smuggling."
"The Downside Kinds are a brutal street gang that controls several decks of Absalom Stations lower levels, or "Downside," through a combination of intimidation and violence. They are known to engage in a wide variety of illegal activities, from extortion, fraud, robbery, smuggling, and theft, to drug and arms trafficking, kidnapping, murder-for-hire, and trafficking in sentient species."
Mysterra waits to see if anyone else has something to add...
She nods at Xera's information. "Interesting."
"The Hardscrabble Collective is a good source of information, but I believe we should investigate his personal office space here, in the Lorespire, and then his personal home, before visiting them."
"Can you provide directions to his office or workspace and home for us?" she asks Chisisk.
Though not terribly well-educated, Orlam has enough wits to understand the possible implications of Duravor's history and how it might link with his untimely death. "So maybe this Astral Extractions company hired the Downside Kings to kill him for digging into the death of his kinsman? Hmm... wonder why the Level 21 Crew was there at the same time. Maybe for different reasons? Or maybe they heard about the contract and wanted to take it away from a rival gang?"
It was all speculation, but the kasathas is in agreement that they need some hard answers - or at least more clues. "I agree, this Hardscrabble Collective seems like a good start. Either that or start asking around about these gangs - but that doesn't seem like a very safe idea. It'd take someone a lot more subtle than me to make that sort of investigation."
{"I'm afraid that Duravor never kept any workspace within the Society's campus, but I know he kept a room at a motel adjoining the Last Good Run, in Drifter's End. If his death is tied to this Hardscrabble Collective's business dealings, there may be something there."}
Chiskisk flexes their antennae back and forth again as the trio discuss the possibility of corporate greed being a cause for murdering their friend. {"If it is the case that Astral Extractions are involved, then I would advise you step very cautiously. They are one of the largest corporate conglomerates outside of AbadarCorp in the known galaxy, and I must ask that you find solid proof that this is indeed the case."}
Reaching into their coat pocket, Chiskisk takes out a small card and hands it to Xera. {"This is my comm code, for you to call and report back as you feel you need. But otherwise I wish you all the best luck with this investigation, and I look forward to its conclusion."}
The shirren then pauses and looks at both Ranklin and Rylexi-Sobok intently before turning back to Xera, Mysterra, and Orlam. {"I will have a further discussion with Ranklin and the Ambassador here, if you will excuse us. Please keep me apprised of your progress when you can, and do be careful."}
"Just one more moment... Did Duravor have any other family? Any next of kin? They might also know more about his other interests."
Chiskisk flickers their antennae, a common shirren expression of being in thought, in response to Xera's query and turns to face the android. {"He only ever mentioned that he had family living in the Diaspora on the various asteroid settlements there. His work was his life here on the station, he always said, and until today I was unaware that he had even made enemies."}
"Thank you. Shall we start at the motel in Drifters End?"
As Orlam, Mysterra, and Xera make their way out of the office, they see the receptionist making her way through the entrance from the reception area. "Ahh, you've finished with Chiskisk - I was just coming to let them know that their next appointment is waiting for them in the lobby," she says cheerily. "Also, I have received a message from Venture-Captain Raelosh that she would like to place two of her newest agents to accompany you on your assignment. Don't worry, Chiskisk has already been advised of this and has approved of the additional agents. Please, if you can follow me again."
She leads the trio of prospective Starfinders back into the reception area and off to one of the small side rooms where a human with a golden mote of light floating about his head converses with an android as they both sit on long settees. "Thank you both for being patient," the receptionist says as she steps into the room, ushering in the two androids and the kasatha. "Valius and Private Eye, please meet Xera, Orlam, and Mysterra - three of Venture-Captain Chiskisk's newest recruits. I will leave you all to get acquainted, and for these three to get you caught up to speed on your assignment." The receptionist smiles as she steps past Mysterra to leave the room.
Mysterra follows the receptionist into the side room. She stands perfectly still, back straight, posture perfect, face expressionless, barely inside the doorway. As the secretary leaves Mysterra slowly looks at each of you, one at a time, examining you from head to toe with a blank expression. It's a long process, which probably makes you uncomfortable.
"Hello." Xera says matter-of-factly. She looks from one to the other, and notices the point of light hovering near Valius.
"Ah!" She exclaims. "Our friend has one of those. He seems to have been give a different assignment than us. So you channel solar energy then?"
She turns to Private Eye. "I have heard of private eyes. Is that a title? Or a name?"
Orlam readily agrees that Duravor's home (or what served as his home, at any rate) is a good place to begin their investigation. The soldier follows dutifully as the receptionist leads them into another room to meet two new recruits, and he wonders if they have any further information they might be able to impart. The kasathas nods politely as he is briefly introduced to the two, and a moment after Xera asks her questions, Orlam speaks. "Greetings to you both. As the human lady said, I am Orlam. We were on our way to investigate the motel where Duravor last made his home, to see if we can find any clue as to whether his death might be more than a mere accident. How much do you know of Duravor and what he was involved in? Come, we should talk as we go. His place isn't far from here, and if the Downside Kings are truly responsible for his death, they might be going through Duravor's place right now."
The kasathas is typical of his race, mainly in that he has four arms and quite large, standing somewhere around 6'8" tall. Well-muscled and lean, his eyes are pure black and his skin is a deep gray where it can be seen beneath the heavy plate-like armor he wears. A doshko is sheathed at one hip, a utility belt also holds a survival knife as well as a grenade and across his shoulders he carries a light reaction cannon and a heavy-looking backpack.
The blond haired human in the room wears a set of freebooter's armor that gives him a moderate amount of flexibility. His stature is surprising, coming up shorter than average for a human of his gender, with broad shoulders and a clean shaven face. He has a white scarf that is wrapped around his neck and shoulders like a winding constrictor, blue eyes reflecting the soft golden light of the mote that hovers above his left shoulder. When the group enters, he stands to attention, raising his thick brows up and grinning at the trio.
"Hello there. I'm Valius Hunt. It's good to meet you all. I suppose this means that we'll be working together, right Pi?" He comments to the other android who was waiting with him.
At Xera's inquiry, he nods and gestures to the mote. "I feel the Dawnflower's embrace through this blessing, and through it I help to aid her cause. The Starfinders are a good way for me to pursue that goal. Plus I get to meet new people! You're the second android I've met! And, ah, I guess she is the third? Or...he? I don't want to make assumptions."
Orlam towers over Valius, but the solarion looks rather concerned by what he tells him, growing pale at the news. "Duravor is dead? Wait, what happened? I just met him a couple days ago with Pi..." He looks upset, glancing downwards at his boots for a moment, before looking up. If there's a chance to bring justice for him, count me in. I don't want those responsible for his death to be able to walk away free."
"Ahh... I am... sorry if I broke the news to you abruptly. I had thought..." The kasathas waves away the rest of his thoughts. "He was scheduled to meet us as we disembarked here on Absalom Station. As soon as we left the shuttle though, a firefight broke out between two rival gangs in the middle of the docking bay. Several bystanders were shot, and though we managed to kill three of the gang members of the Level 21 Crew as they are apparently called, their rivals escaped. Those three belonged to a gang called the Downside Kings. Duravor was the only fatality, and based on a stray comment made by one of the gang members, and the clean shot through the dwarf's neck that took his life instantly, we suspect there may be more to the incident than a mere shootout between rival gangs."
As they walk, Orlam speaks of what they learned from Venture Captain Chiskisk regarding the gangs, Duravor's history with the Hardscrabble Collective, the fate of his cousin, and how the Astral Extractions company may or may not fit into all of this.
"I am Mysterra," the other android finally blurts out. "You are new."
Aha! I remembered to start with an introduction.
She raises her lips and bares her teeth at Valius and Pi. After a while she asks.
"Did I properly convey a welcoming atmosphere?"
As Valius wonders over her gender, Mysterra doesn't seem offended. "I am female," she informs him. "What is your gender?"
As the others speak Mysterra contemplates what to add to the conversation, but every time she opens her mouth to speak someone else has already said it.
Less thinking, more speaking! she reminds herself.
Mysterra turns to re-engage in conversation to realize the others have already filed out of the room and are on their way to Durovar's motel.
Last again.
Mysterra turns and follows the others out of the Lorespire, listening --but not participating--in their conversation.
Next to the blond human stands Private Eye. He is right under six feet tall and slender. He is wearing a cheap suit with a long brown overcoat. He doesn't seem to be carrying any weapons but he does have a small screen over his left eye. It is connected to an earpiece that is probably a comm unit.
She turns to Private Eye. "I have heard of private eyes. Is that a title? Or a name?"
He looks to Xera with a squinty eye, "Both. Though it seems it's not a title any longer now that I'm a Starfinder."
He then sighs tiredly when Valius calls him 'Pi'.Eye's eye squints even further when he hears of Duravor's death.
"Did I properly convey a welcoming atmosphere?"
"I feel welcome. Now let's catch those Level 21 punks. I never liked them."
I did? I did! I DID?! I must be improving! This is great!
Mysterra 'smiles' again, her face contorting into more of a grimace than anything.
"Wonderful," she says in a monotone, bored voice.
"I'm a guy, but I've been told I shouldn't assume, especially with androids," Valius replies as they walk together. Orlam seems determined to push ahead, and he sees no reason not to follow at his pace. He finds the giant kasatha intriguing to look at up close, peering up at his hidden face occasionally. He looked really cool!
But the androids were also cool, though Mysterra seemed to be even more of a stoic person than Pi. "Let's work well together. I'll count on you all for support."
"Androids do not need gender, since we do not reproduce sexually. But it often puts other humanoids at ease to have one."
Xera shrugs.
"But it is Duravor who matters right now. In the turnoil it is hard to say which gang fired the killing shot, but one of the Downsiders made a remark that makes us think it was no accident. The Level 21 Crew had no survivors, so we don't know if they were in on it, or merely provided an excuse for the Downsiders to do the deed."
"The authorities will no doubt see Duravor as an unfortunate and unintended casualty of gang violence. So if there is going to be justice for Duravor, it is up to us. Or, we may find that we had no cause to be suspicious. But we won't know for sure without investigating."
"But as Orlan said, we may need to hurry. Are you ready to go? We can talk more on the way."
As the group file out of the side room, the noise of a woman bursting into tears echoes through the reception area. The receptionist that they had been dealing with for the better part of the morning sits at the reception desk, sobbing. She is being consoled by another receptionist who appears to be similarly upset.
Outside, the simulated sunlight on the ceiling of the Ring is at its brightest noon-day setting, casting harsh shadows underneath the many people who are passing by and coming to and from the Lorespire.
Xera continues until she is outside and looks around.
Mysterra follow along behind Orlam and the others.
Orlam agrees with Valius' comment. "We are a unit now, a team as you humans say. We will work together in this task." He glances at Xera as she speaks of the two gangs. "Recall as well that the Downside Kings are known for taking murder contracts. Though the Level 21 gang is involved in criminal activity as well, I think that an assassination is more likely the work of the Kings. It is good not to assume anything at this point, I speak only of likelihood."
He glances at the weeping receptionists as they head out into the artificial sunlight, then takes a look around out of habit before heading in the direction of Duravor's apartment.
Valius notes the crying receptionists and can empathize with them. They most likely just heard about the death of Duravor. He seemed like a person who was much respected by his peers here in the Society. He promised himself to try and find these people some comfort in knowing that the dwarf got his justice tonight. He follows the group for now, noting that Oram has the right idea investigating the dwarf's apartment first.
Not accustomed to silence, he tries to break the ice with his new companions as they go. "I used to crew on a shuttle with my family before joining the Society. What about the rest of you?"
"I... ah,... I worked in a shipyard. But I escaped."
"It's a long story."
As the group board a transport, Xera elaborates.
"This was in the human empire, the one called Azlanti. Androids are considered useful for work in orbit since we do not need to breathe. They referred to us as 'workers.' But we were properly called slaves."
"After a time I felt I could hear the stars calling to me, showing me how I could be free. I could do things other Androids could not. I used these abilities to make my escape, with the help of a number of other androids."
"We stole a ship, and fled. The humans pursued us, and out ship was badly damaged, but we made it into the drift. I homed in on the strongest beacon I could detect. That brought me here."
"The ship was little more than scrap when we got here. We sold it off as salvage at Skydock. We split the money we made and went our separate ways. The strange thing is... most of my allies took jobs in the shipyards there. They do the same thing we did when we were slaves. But they earn their own money, and are treated well. They can quit if they want. So I suppose it is different."
"But I couldn't take that life again. I had to go to the stars once more. But without a ship, I wasn't sure how to do it. Then I saw the recruiting vids for the Starfinder Society... it seemed like just what I wanted."
Orlam nods at Xera's story. "Breaking away from what you are familiar with is a most difficult step. My own culture is steeped in tradition. For instance, most of my kind hide their mouths with a scarf except among one's most intimate companions.
During my time of Tempering - that is a period of time when a young kasathas is encouraged to travel and engage in... improper behavior to better appreciate the wisdom of tradition - I met with many representatives of several species throughout the Pact worlds.
It was during this time that I studied the history of the Witchwyrds - an ancient and very wise group of interstellar travelers believed to be the progenitors of my race - and I became more tolerant of the various differences between species than many of my own people are comfortable with. That is why I choose to wear no scarf, and it was one of the most difficult choices of my life.
My experiences also led me to choose answering a recruitment offer with the Starfinders, and to leave my home on the worldship Idari. I too hope that I find the answers I seek during my service to that organization. To travel the worlds and learn more of the Witchwyrds. Perhaps even to join them."
Mysterra listens with curiosity to the others stories. Eventually she says, in the most monotone and boring voice ever:
"I am older than any other android I am aware of. I lived through the Gap, and the time before. I have never renewed myself. Never let my soul leave this body and usher a new one in. I do not feel the impulse to. I never have. I am different somehow, from other androids. The ones that have come since are much more capable of adaptation. I am... rigid."
"I remember the day I awoke from the Gap. It was like surfacing from a pool. Waking from a dream. Only there was no before. Just a void. I knew immediately I was missing something monumentous. An important part of me--of my history--was lost. Something special had happened to me in that time. Maybe multiple somethings. But I could not recall them."
"Like many I yearned for answers. I searched for any scrap of lost information, both outside and inside myself. Despite my substantial efforts to discover more about my past, I was unable to discover anything other than a single word, lodged in one of my oldest, most fragmented memory caches: Mother."
"Androids do not have mothers. We are not born. And yet... I did. The mother is not another's. She is mine. It is impossible, but I feel it... here." she gestures at her heart. "This memory spawned an illogical obsession within me. I have spent the centuries since the Gap traveling the cosmos in an effort to find my Mother, unravel the mysteries of the Gap, or find a way to repair my fragmented and lost memories. If anyone can help me to do this, it is the Starfinders."
"They have only recently accepted my request for admission."
Valius stares at the three for a bit after the sudden influx of information they give him, an awkward smile on his face as he processes it all. Finally, once Mysterra had finished her own story, he speaks again, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Uhhhh...wow. Okay, I was just kind of curious about what kind of job you guys did before signing up, you know? I wasn't exactly expecting everyone to pitch in with their life story!" He laughs it off, scratching the back of his head as he walks along with the group. "Stars and suns, you guys are way more interesting than I am. Not that's a bad thing, just that I basically had a normal life comparatively. I hope you don't think less of me because I look at this job as just a way to do some good for people," he admits to them.
"I'm sorry that you had to live life as a slave. I don't know anything about the Azlanti, but they sound pretty awful if they use slave labor. I'm glad you were able to escape that life, and that I have an opportunity to get to know you," He tells Xera.
"I'm not entirely sure what the significance is of not wearing a facial scarf, but I guess it's sort of like if I went around wearing no pants with everything hanging out, right? I mean, it's cool if you break with tradition like that, just don't feel like you have to if it makes you uncomfortable," He offers to Orlam. "I would like to know more about what Witchwyrds are when we have a chance to talk later."
"Mysty - you mind if I call you Mysty? Uh, it seems crazy that you're that old and everything. I can't say you're lying about something like that, and you seem pretty determined with your goal. I don't really know much about this Gap, though. I mean, I'm only a couple decades old, so I guess the past doesn't interest me as much as what's going to happen. But if I can do anything to help you out, just let me know. Or I'll find out what I can do..." He furrows his brow, thinking for a moment. "Though, if you've never renewed yourself, I'm kind of surprised that you aren't some big tycoon from centuries of accumulating resources! Maybe you're secretly rich?"
He gave me... a nickname? A term of endearment? Have I just made... a friend? ...THIS IS SO EXCITING!
"As I said. My obsession is illogical. Accumulating wealth, power and resources would be a far more practical way to spend my time." she suddenly clenches her shoulders up and drops them again--the most awkward, jerky shrug you've ever seen. "Perhaps I am flawed from never having renewed. It is unnatural."
She doesn't seem to care about being called Mysty. Or at least, not that you can tell.
Private Eye didn't speak up at first, he had already talked to Valius a bit, but with all the stories from the others he decides to share a bit as well.
"I guess I'm boring too. I'm just a former cop. Used to walk the beat here on the Station. I wanted to do something important. Catch bad guys, that kind of thing. I guess I used to be a softy. I read a bunch of stories about flatfoots back in the day, that's why they call me Private Eye, and it gave me all these fantasies about making the world a better place. But you guys know how it is as an android," he looks at Xera and Mysterra as he says the last bit, sometimes it's hard to fit in with the organics. It got real hard to move up past writing tickets for littering when I didn't know how to suck up to the sergeant. Or care to. Instead of catching crooks I was spending most of my time doing nonsense paperwork.
"So I went in for myself. Private Eye Investigations. Long story short that job was mostly trying to catch cheating spouses and crooked corporations asking me to skirt the law to find dirt on their rivals. So here I am"
"I'm sorry that you had to live life as a slave. I don't know anything about the Azlanti, but they sound pretty awful if they use slave labor. I'm glad you were able to escape that life, and that I have an opportunity to get to know you," He tells Xera.
Xera nods.
"The Azlanti are not the only ones, not by far. With the right equipment you can manufacture androids. But thank you."
She looks out the window of the transport.
"Is this it up here?"
As Xena looks up, the neon words 'The Last Good Run' flash into view. Even at midday the bar is rowdy, with beings of all shapes and sizes patronising the establishment. The clatter of cutlery on plates and glasses on tables mingle with the jovial conversations and sounds of chairs being scraped along the metal floor, all mixing together in a cacophony.
Next to the bar, a second, smaller neon sign flashes the word 'VACANCIES', with an arrow pointing to a small office adjoining the motel apartments.
Mysterra eyes the bar blankly for a while, before eventually replying. "Yes."
She follows the others into the vacancy office, posture perfect and stride stiff.
"Nah, you're not boring Pi! Boring people don't become lawmen or investigators. I'm sure that a lot of people find your nobility attractive," Valius suggests as they look over the apartment. It is the bar that he considers to be of more importance here than the apartment.
"A bar right next to where Duravor lived? We should speak to the bartender and the regulars to see what they know about him and his activities. Maybe one of them even has a spare pass for his apartment we can use," He suggests to the group, ready to walk inside if they agree with him.
Orlam regards Valius for a long moment, wondering if the human is more interested in revelry than in their assignment. "Let us take a look at the apartment first. If it is locked and not yet been broken into, we can try as you suggest. Though I would suggest we might speak with someone in the office first. We have been given the task of investigating this place by the Starfinders. Perhaps that will carry some weight in getting us inside."