Saviors of the Stars IC

[Queen Sapes]

Issue 1: Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

A lone Nyglarian wiseman once lived alone on Plaxar, a planet orbiting a star of the same name with an orbit as close as a planet can get and still be inhabitable. He spent his days gazing up at the red giant that Plaxar, the sun, had become, tilling the fields of the nearly dead and tiny world, and pondering all things in the universe. One day, while watering his crops, he postulated that all it took for a good or lucky man to do evil was for him to experience one truly bad day. But on the other hand, all it took for a bad or unlucky man to do good was give him the responsibility to do so. Then Plaxar consumed Plaxar in a supernova, incinerating the Nyglarian instantly. The truth about this story is often scrutinized due to several problems within the story. Namely, how could anyone know he said this if the Nyglarian lived and died alone, and that Plaxar didn't explode into a supernova but rather collapsed into a black hole and consumed Blitxnie, its closest inhabitable planet. Still, the story of the wiseman has traveled throughout the galaxy since it was first told, becoming common knowledge as it teaches its lesson throughout a bizzare, dangerous, and often cruel galaxy.

All it takes for an unlucky man to do good, is for you to place all your bets on him.

---

In the body of neutral space rests an asteroid belt orbiting an old but still burning star. The rest of the system surrounding it is empty, only more asteroids with spots denser than others. Some speculate that perhaps these dense spots were once planets, given the abundance of natural resources in the asteroid belt. This theory is only helped by the existence of Outpost XP-9, otherwise known to the locals as "The Spire". Built eons ago by an unknown and now, presumably, extinct race, the spire is a massive structure that spans two of the larger asteroids, making it look somewhat like an apple core. The Spire was once a graveyard to that long forgotten race, the entire structure built to house the dead and allow mourners to pay tribute. As such, when it was found it already had artificial gravity generators pumping, an artificial atmosphere of (mostly) oxygen wrapped around it, and a force field to prevent its destruction, all powered by an engine of unknown design nobody ever risked taking apart or turning off. Whatever importance this place held to the race that built it, it was clear to the discoverers that they at least held their dead in great respect.

So of course, when the Spire ended up in the hands of Dacani it was quickly converted into an active trade port, with hundreds of mining vessels sent out from the Spire to mine the surrounding asteroid field. Many of the bodies were left intact thanks to the Spire's initial systems, and the Dacani sold the most intact ones off to collectors across the galaxy, "misplaced" several to thieves, and liquified the rest for their resource-rich corpses. The Spire itself grew from its original tube design, expanding outwards as ports were blown into the sides and housing, storage, and refinement tumors grew from its walls. In the end whatever the Spire was grew into something less holy and prestigious, and something more useful and valuable. At least, that's how the Dacani see it.

It's here the Slience has chosen to dock, after winding its way through the asteroid field to stop here for refueling and to find jobs. The Dacani could have blown away some of the asteroids to make it an easier trek to the Spire, but if they had done that they wouldn't be able to sell as much fuel as they can otherwise. The ship is docked on the middle yards, a compromise the pilot/captain made with himself. The lower yards used for docking were cheap to stay at but were often less policed which made it a nice spot for thieves and ship-choppers to ruin the Silence. But upper yards experienced the opposite problem. The cost to dock at them was often so high it may as well have been highway robbery, and the pilot might not have had even enough to dock. So the middle yards it was, everything nicely priced and decently protected as long as you were willing to check on your ship every once and awhile. Plus the yards were just a stone's throw from all the important spots across the Spire, which all the Silence's passengers had scattered to.

---

Spoiler: Info Everybody Knows About Stuff and Should Read

Show

The Dacani:
A race of humanoid beings who resemble ink blots made human. Their skin is entirely black and oily like ink, taking on a different texture for their hair. The Dacani are actually a hive-mind colony organism, each individual Dacani humanoid comprised of thousands of cells that could easily form their own individual being. Dacani culture is based heavily on profit and trade, and as such Dacani rarely care for culture or the like, unless it in some way serves them. They are highly industrial, although their industry sacrifices longevity for efficiency. Dacani worlds are typically heavily polluted, with little in the way of sustainable life. This suits the Dacani just fine as their biology requires them to process very little oxygen to survive. Culture-wise the Dacani resemble the Terran roarin'-twenties era, with very older looking industrial concepts and a love of art deco in their architecture. Technically the Dacani are part of the Lor Republic, but often operate outside of Lor territory to avoid Lor restrictions.

The Ne'Tal:
A "race" of androids created long ago by an unknown creator race rumored to be the Darans. The standard Ne'Tal model looks a lot like a pillbug on stilts. Their bodies are smooth white shells suspended above the floor by long hollow tubes that work for them as legs. Underneath the shell is the inner workings of a Ne'Tal, which are typically limited to various interface appendages. Nearly all Ne'Tal are highly religious, worshiping something known as "The Broken God" which they will one day merge together to reform. Their religion is rather exclusive, as they do welcome members of other races to visit their places of worship, but generally do not let other races join. The Ne'Tal are possibly the most efficient race in the galaxy, able to produce almost any design with maximum resource efficiency. This has led the Ne'Tal to become highly sought after trade partners, and slaves, but due to some unknown Ne'Tal programming, they only appear to be willing to produce after memories have been given to them. The Ne'Tal deal in memories, literally removing moments from a person's memory, although the reason for this is unknown. The memories are rumored to be stored at the Ne'Tal's main church, the Eye of the Broken God. Ne'Tal are generally indistinguishable, and all of them appear to speak in the same voice and have the same opinion on all matters.

The Daran:
The outcast race of the galaxy, in recorded history nobody has seen a Daran without its bodysuit. Rumor has it that the Daran long ago were exiled from their homeworld, and get about to drift the stars in their ramshackle colony ships. To conserve precious fuel, each Daran entered into a bodysuit which acted as a personal environment for the individual. Unfortunately, due to a design flaw, the suits are extremely difficult and take some time to remove, and the user is incapable of speaking with anyone while in the suit. Generations of wearing these suits has led the Daran species to lose nearly their entire immune system, and they are extremely wary of removing the suits, lest they risk instant infection and death. Due to the design never being fixed, the Daran language has faded into myth, the species speaking entirely in a complex sign language designed around living on space ships. Much about the Darans is unknown, as aside from much of their people routinely leaving the colony ships to explore and bring back items of value, most races have little exposure to them.

The Bolonitie:
A less humanoid race than the Daran or Dacani, the Bolonitie are diminutive creatures resembling a cross between a lizard and a teddy bear. They come in a wide range of colors from blues to greens to reds, and generally do not pass two feet in height. However, the Bolonitie are not a cuddly and cute race. Their culture is highly competitive, and despite their small size the typical Bolonitie makes up for it in sheer power. Bolonitie games dominate much of their culture, with one of the nine continents of their homeworld dedicated mostly to sport. These games range everywhere from simple games of luck to extremely dangerous team sports, which can and have claimed lives before. The Bolonitie are generally a welcoming people, but in any game they have a tendency to be intense. Above all, cheating is forbidden by the Bolonitie codes, and a Bolonitie will never tolerate a cheater in any circumstances.

The Lor:
A race of Terran-looking people who have expanded over a fairly large chunk of the galaxy. The Lor appear to be generally well-meaning, but thanks to the insanity of their bureaucracy they can come across as cold and rigid. Still, as long as you obey their laws when in their territory, you don't have anything to fear from the Lor. Apart from that they're a rather boring race, with many subordinate races scattered around their territory.

The Grue:
A highly militaristic race of nearly hive-minded shapeshifters with aspirations to destroy, enslave, and generally dominate the rest of the galaxy. And to the fair, so far they've done a fairly good job. Grue territory is nearly as big as the Lor Republic, and the races they have under their control generally aren't seen outside of Grue territory. Even traveling in their space is a dangerous gamble, as Grue fleets tend to mass just on the borders of their territory, and Grue Scout ships buzz through the inner body. Thanks to their shapeshifting abilities, Grue are experts as infiltrating other races, and once one of their race is discovered in a high position, a Grue invasion typically isn't far behind.

(Other info-dumps coming later on as they become important or necessary to definitely know about!)

Laishe Telfoni:
"You've got to be kidding me, Laishe!" Henah Huil shouts angrily at Laishe Telfoni, the Dacani woman slamming her fist down onto her desk. In typical Dacani fashion her fist practically explodes on the desk, the impact streaks making it look like a fruit was thrown down against the wooden desk. Henah is rather slim for a Dacani woman, but otherwise pretty typical. Her "skin" is all a black sludge which actually is a massive colony organism which takes on a humanoid appearance. A single large eye takes up the majority of her face, with no visible mouth. The eye looks like a typical human's, although the iris is pink, an unusual color even for Dacani, who are typically purple-eyed. Her "hair" appears to be tied in a bun, although the black ink that makes up her hair appears to be only a slightly different texture than her skin. She wears what appears to be a very plain outfit of a white undershirt, dark brown vest, loose tie, and dark brown shirt. They are actually clothes, although why Dacani fashion so closely resembles that of the Terran twenties is beyond even the highest of scholars.

Henah is a high-ranking "accountant" for the Dacani on the Spire, although 'accountant' to the Dacani means differently than most other sapient species. Where most accountants are just number keepers, Henah is responsible for a lot more numbers on the Spire than people know about. She sells off the outgoing products, collects taxes from the Spire inhabitants, hires muscle when they don't pay, and engages in her fair share of illegal smugglings and dealings. Typical Dacani fare, but she's high enough on the food chain that her activities are actually worth paying attention to. It's these activities that drew Laishe Telfoni to her, although his reputation was already well known by the Dacani. She had hired him not to do anything particularly illegal, but to check up on one of the mining stations out in the asteroid field and "pay it a visit". Something about it not being worth her time to waste resources on checking in. Of course, when Laishe had arrived at the spot it was supposed to be, the mining station was gone without a trace save for the twisted remains of its supports. Probably stolen away by pirates, which means it wasn't worth recovering and probably wasn't able to be recovered. Unfortunately, this also means Henah was angry, and he probably wasn't getting paid.

"How does it just disappear!?" she shouts, pulling her hand up from the desk, the black smear recongealing into her hand. Henah falls back into her leather chair to look at Laishe from over her desk. The Terran sits across from her in one of two armchairs in her office. The office itself had once been the tomb of some unknown alien life form. Now there were vacation pictures hanging on the walls, and a Plartaxian goldfish. Henah fumes for a few more seconds, stopping Laishe each time he tries to stay something with her hand. "This is the fourth station this cycle to go..." she says to herself, running her hands over her face. "The bosses are gonna kill me..." Henah's eye then falls to Laishe who still sits there. "You realize I won't be able to pay you because of this, right?"

Nagini, Caprice, and Strife:
While meeting with Laishe's contact or roaming the marketplaces on the middle decks sounded like such fun, it was the Spire's bars that drew Nagini, Caprice, and Strife to them. The Spire was at least famous for a few things other than just being another example of the Dacani disgracing another race's culture, and that was Horizon, possibly the best bar in this quadrant of space. Even from the outside this place is incredible, with about a dozen signs hanging above it displaying the name in a dozen different ways; everything from standard lightbulbs, to neon lights, to holographic animated pictures. Surprisingly there isn't a line of any kind outside the bar, although once inside it's clear why. Horizon has been built into one of the center towers that used to hold the Spire up, although it was long ago hollowed out to make more space for the bar.

Approximately sixty different stories comprise Horizon, each of the individual floors visible thanks to the hollow tube that makes up the bar. A railing keeps customers from tumbling over the side of each floor and falling to a painful death, with automatic force nets set to engage just in case someone tries to leap anyway. Tables line the walls up the entire length of the tower sometimes breaking out into a bar with lots of barstools and an actual barkeep. Square-ish, red robots with about six claws buzz around Horizon, pouring drinks at the order, delivering every kind of bar food imaginable, or just collecting credits. Thanks to the hollow tube of Horizon, the robots are unimpeded in their movements, and its not uncommon to see one robot fly from the bottom of Horizon to the top. A series of six elevators line the walls as well, allowing easy and quick movement to and from the individual floors. Decoration-wise, the outside of Horizon matches the inside. Lights in every possible color, screens displaying everything from Lor Republic news to Bolonitie games, and souvenirs and nic nacs hang from every possible spot on the wall.

After a bit of searching, made easier by the presence of a large screen which tells what is open and where, the three girls find a booth on Floor 37. Floor 37 is one of the few with a large and open bar area, where a Dacani bartender shakes together drinks of every kind for the passing customers. The floor customers are a rather colorful bunch, everything from a dozen Dacani miners to a small group of Daran drinking at a table in the back to a fairly large group of Bolonities celebrating something or other. The last group in particular is having a good time, as the massive screen above the floor's bar is playing some kind of Bolonitie sport which involves two teams throwing blue disks into small slits in a wall and dodging red disks that are shot out at them. Every time one team, who appear to be wearing green and yellow, are hit or miss a disk, the Bolonitie group erupts into sudden cheers and they clink their drinks together.

It isn't long after the three girls sit down that a red robot hovers over to them, drinks clutched in all six claws. "It will be one moment, ladies," the robot bartender says before hovering up towards another floor. Precisely one moment later another one of the identical robots returns. "What is it you would like?" the robot asks, projecting a holographic menu beneath its body for the girls to flip through.

Scrap, and the Twins:
Somehow the roaming pile of nanobots and the twin magicians ended up wandering with each other through the middle decks. For Scrap, Daniel, and Heather, almost everything they saw was something foreign on the Spire. The marketplaces on the middle decks were the most jarring for all three, as every sight was bizarre in one way or another, although that tended to be standard order when traveling. It certainly wasn't helped by the large mass of people milling through. A stand selling bottles of what looked to be battery acid turned out to be selling a miracle cure for Bolonities. What looked to be bizarre meat at one stand was actually fruit grown on a low-oxygen moon. The mass of broken parts, twisted metal, and blinking lights was not scrap, but someone's home. When Scrap offered to make it look nicer to the man, who appeared to be a miniature elephant crossed with a frog, he became furious and rearranged the pile.

But after wandering the middle deck of the Spire, the three ended up coming across something at least a little familiar. Or at least something that had all seen before. Jammed into the middle of the marketplace it a large building converted out of the old tombs that this place once had been filled with. The entire thing is lit up by massive lights which project white glimmering light everywhere inside, making it look like a nearly empty and white void inside. That is, if there wasn't visibly rows of pews all facing an incomplete statue of broken machinery on the other end that stood out from the white light. Things moved inside the church, their smooth and white bodies barely visible in the light as they went along the wall from invisible panel to panel.

It was a Ne'Tal church, the race of robot religious fanatics that seemed to have spread throughout the galaxy. Nearly everywhere the group had been they saw one of these churches, although Laishe had never given them much time to stop and gawk. But with Laishe meeting up with his contact here, now would be the perfect time to learn a bit. One of the Ne'Tal stands at the door of the church, its tube-hands passing out flyers to any passerbys who move by. It spots the three as they pass, speaking to them in its perfect and echoing tones. "Greetings. I am designated Unit 9P-0-X7. Would any of you like to pass on memories today?"

[Arcran]

Laishe frowns, looking at the Dacani with disgust. He didn't consider himself a racist and, in truth, who really does? But after a deal like this, who couldn't have a bit of pent up hatred towards the profit-driven race? Sure, they were willing to cut corners and turn a blind eye when needed but it also meant that situations like this happened. And the damn interrupting with her hand! Already Laishe doubted he'd be working with her again for some odd reason.

"What do you mean I can't be paid?" Laishe says, unfolding his arms to let them sit far closer to his hip as he leans the chair forward so it once again sits on all fours. "I did your job. I flew out there, burning my precious fuel and came back here under the impression that there would be something in it for me. Frankly, I don't give a damn if you can't afford to pay me. You paid me for a job and I did it, plain and simple," he states, looking around the room slowly as if he gave a damn about the decor but always keeping Henah in the corner of his eye.

"I can't tell you why it disappeared. Pirates? Those Grue bastards? Giant station eating space eagles? I don't know and I don't frakin' care. You and I, we have a simple relationship. I do a job, you pay me. Now tell me how there being no station there is my damn fault?"

Spoiler: OoC

Show

How many guards did Laishe see coming in?

[Quellian-dyrae]

The twins were...keeping fairly close together as they walked, an unconscious protective gesture in the unfamiliar environs. They were frankly still trying to wrap their heads around Scrap. They had chosen to go with it with the intention of finally asking, straight up, if it considered itself a being or a program - but every time they had just about gathered the gumption to bring it up they saw something else that left them feeling that their brains needed a reboot. Which, to be fair, was kind of making them understand Scrap a little better. Or at least making them think they did.

Daniel was just about to open his mouth to finally ask when the Ne'Tal spoke, and he closed his mouth with an audible click. Yeah, not exactly a question he wanted to ask in front of yet another cybernetic being. Yikes. The request for them to pass on memories actually sparked a quick flare of anger. No, we don't want our memories, also known as the only things we have left of our home world, psychically yanked from our brains to be stored forever in some sort of space-magic crystal, thank you very much, he thought bitterly, simply turning to go in another direction the same way he always handled all the people handing out pamphlets and asking for signatures back in college.

So really, it shouldn't have come as a surprise when his sister similarly reacted the same way she had in college. "What does that...actually entail?" he heard her ask with inquisitive politeness.

And he stopped, cast his gaze briefly up at the ceiling, and sighed. It took him a moment, but he managed to paint his best fake-interested look on his face and turned back around to stand beside Heather as she talked with the Ne'Tal.

Spoiler

Show

General note, I figure Mindlink is probably the default active power for the twins' Arcana array, probably because they hope that communicating primarily telepathically will get them on Laishe's good side . So assuming the other two groups are within a mile, they can relay communications between them if necessary.

[Eshkigal]

S.C.R.A.P., meanwhile, had been looking up several ways to begin conversation with the twins, for they seemed rather uncomfortable among the stars, still. They were biologically terran, but seemed put off by something about S.C.R.A.P., and it wondered what. However every time it came up with one better than "so you believe in magic", a series of events would happen, it would try part out, and it would go horribly. Frog Elephant had rumbled some very rude things about its parentage, and the whole fruit thing was just a fiasco after the warbloc (some strange farm animal in the stall nearby) had gotten some out of its hands as it tried identifying it and began swelling. That had led to a hasty retreat, and S.C.R.A.P. had decided that being a dust cloud may be a better idea to avoid angry merchants for a time. So when the pill bug-Ne'Tal, right, don't call them pill bugs, they get confused-spoke up, it was a welcome distraction.
"I have wondered about this too. Is it permissible to give a backup of my memory banks? What purpose does it serve?"
It buzzes around the Ne'Tal, trying to determine how it had been crafted, what secrets could it use to upgrade the solid form.

[Propagandist]

"Give me a moment... Let's see... Oh, no. 'Talusian Hotpot?' Really? The real stuff takes three weeks to prepare. Wars have been fought over the correct recipe! Now I have to try it, just to see how you screw it up. To drink, bring me six bottles of the cheapest whiskey you-" Nagini pauses and looks across the table at Caprice, something just short of a religious epiphany crossing the serpent woman's face. "Make that six bottles of Black Cross '79, single malt, and some ice and extra glasses."

Nagini stretches luxuriously and waits for the others, curling herself into a neat coil on the bench, tip of her tail twitching interestedly as she gazes around the room before finally turning back to Caprice with the most pitiful, puppy-dog-eyed expression she can muster. "This is your treat, right? I can't afford half of what I just ordered, and I don't want to have to dine and dash. It's really hard here! They have those cursed net things if you jump for it."

[Inspector Valin]

Horizon. Loud, bright, massive and full of life. Strife grinned as the trio walked through the bar, covered by cape and cowl. This was her kind of place! Everyone happy, laughing, having a good time. Some came here to forget, some to celebrate, but either way she loved this place. She owed Nagini and Caprice for inviting her along. The supposed Lor glanced around at the colossul bar-tower as the three travellers made their way towards the elevator. There was so much to see in here: so many different looking races! The former Terran had seen a few races during her travels through the galaxy, but to stand amidst so many at the same time was invigorating.

Soon enough, the trio have their booth. The red-haired cyborg lent back, letting her hood fall away as she took in their area and fellow patrons. Most won a smile from the human, glad of the extended company, but Strife frowned as her gaze lingered on the Bolonities. The little lizards were competitive as hell, she knew that and even had a slight soft spot for the tendency, but there was a difference between competitiveness and seemingly cheering on the other team's failure. Especially with the sport in question. Celebrating beings in pain struck a dark chord with the former gladiatrix.

But then the second robot arrived, ready to take their order. Strife's eyes widened a little as she started to phase through the menu, holo-page after page of names she didn't recognize. She hadn't been presented with this many options in the past. The Terminus didn't offer many choices on things like alcohol, even when you had the power to indulge yourself. You took what you could. And... well, that'd been where she'd grown up, in effect. Stammering a little, the cyborg looked between her more worldly companions, hoping for some advice on the question. "Erm... ?"

Another toast from the Bolonites diverted Strife's attention from the question of drinks however. Her irritation with their behaviour was mounting swiftly. The red haired warrior's eyes lingered on the massive screen above them, before briefly scanning the strange little lizard collective. Her perusal of the area done with, the gladiatrix looked back towards the robot, her personal comm in hand, gesturing upwards towards the ongoing contest. "Do you have gambling services here? I'd like to place a wager on the big game."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Time to roll some checks! Perception for details on both the teams up top, and the group of Bolonites who're seemingly invested in this game. Insight on the latter to try and get a firmer grip on just what their feelings really are

(1d20+10)[30] Perception
(1d20+12)[32] Insight

[Queen Sapes]

Laishe:
"Because it's not your fault, and that makes it even more frustrating!" Henah shouts back at Laishe. "Look Laishe," she says, pointing at him with her whole hand. "I'm not going to cheat you out of your pay. You're a mercenary, a thief, a thug; whatever it is you want to call yourself. But you don't seem stupid to me, which is why I know you didn't lose the station, it's why the guards haven't killed you, and it's why I haven't given the order to scrap your ship for parts. I can't pay you because a lot of what I was going to use to pay you was on that station. Now it's gone, and it doesn't matter who else took it, because we're not getting it back. It would cost too much to try. So now I have to order another station immediately, which will use up a lot of the Spire's credits and leave us near enough to bone dry. I won't have anything left to pay you, which is why you aren't getting paid. Yet."

Henah taps a button on the side of her wooden desk and a hole slides open in the middle of the desk. It doesn't look like anything to be worried about, just something fairly standard issue across the galaxy. Holograms need somewhere to be projected from, and when a small, circular, and flat light slides up to fill the hole it looks like the design was for just that purpose. "I've got another job. Something I've been looking for someone to do for quite a while. It's not as simple as the shakedown I tried to send you on, but it pays better for both of us. Enough that I can pay you for this job and the last in one nice sum. How does that sound?" Henah asks, leveling her single rosy eye at Laishe.

Spoiler: Laishe

Show

While Henah herself only had one guard standing outside her office, given that it's the upper decks security is greatly increased. Particularly in the spots where the Dacani do their big business, security is heavy, with patrols circling through and shift changes happening quite regularly. They didn't take your weapon, probably because the Dacani are betting that if you were to try anything they could easily apprehend you, strip you of all worldly possessions, and dump you on the lowest deck of the Spire where you would never be a problem again.

Scrap and the Twins:
"The process is quite simple," 9P-0-X7 says to Heather, lights under his smooth shell flickering as he speaks. "You think of a vivid memory in your mind, and I use my internal mechanisms to extract the memory from your mind, storing it for transport back to the collective. Then, I or another unit elsewhere will bestow upon you the requested gift of exchange. With us your memory will remain forever, but you will no longer be able to access it from your singular form." As Scrap begins buzzing around it, 9P-0-X7 moves away from him slightly, edging closer to the church. "I must request you do not infiltrate my systems. Tampering is against the wishes of the Broken God," the unit says before answering Scrap's question. It was probably for the best, as Ne'Tal units are all fairly standard. Their systems appear to be all built around sustaining the single unit, and whatever allowed them to access memories was buried deep inside the circuits. "No backups can be created of the memory. Such fabrications of the true memory are false and cannot be accepted in exchange. The collective traditionally doesn't accept memory from artificial life forms as well, for the previously stated reasoning. I apologize if the answer is not satisfactory," 9P-0-X7 says in his heavenly but singular tone.

Strife, Caprice, and Nagini:
The red drone talks to itself quietly for a moment before saying to Nagini, "Order confirmed. It will be on its way momentarily." It then addresses Strife as she asks about the Bolonitie game. "We do have systems of betting in place. Would you prefer to place a bet in traditional Lor style, Jixitalian time-bets, Neo-Lor style, or Cerumbrian Life Gambles?" the drone asks, materializing a new menu in front of Strife.

The menu features four different columns with different styles of betting. Traditional Lor appears to be nearly identical to the style of betting found on Earth. Neo-Lor gets more focused on exact number of points at exact times, but is otherwise very similar. Jixitalian style is a bit strange, considering one can apparently bet up to '288 cycles'. Whether that means of how long the game will last or in years of a person's life it doesn't specify, which is further confused by the fact you can still bet credits. Finally, Cerumbrian style is the most perplexing of all, referring to specifics about the game, down to the number of letters used to spell a player's name. It's a long list of numbers that look like a lot of time to work through. Why it's called a Life Gamble doesn't begin to scratch the surface of weird in this style. As Strife looks at the menu, the Bolonitie erupt into booing as a member of their opposing team casts a gold disk into one of the holes, causing over a dozen red disks to fire out at once and strike over half their favorite team.

Spoiler: Strife

Show

You watch the Bolonitie game with interest, trying to get a real feel for it. Although the sport doesn't look all too similar to any Terran sport, there are a few commonalities. Every time one team gets a blue disk into a slot, one of the symbols on screen changes, probably indicating a point scored. When one of the players is hit by a red disk, the symbol appears to drop down, as you notice it change up to a foreign number and drop back down to what it was quite frequently. Although the disks are apparently heavy and thrown with some force, they don't appear to be causing any real lasting damage. Those sports are usually left for Bolonitie-specific broadcasts, or live games.

Despite your best attempts at differentiating the two teams, apart from their colored uniforms they look both evenly matched and keeping pace with each other quite well. Green and yellow seems to be a bit faster, as several of their players are able to dodge the red disks more frequently, but red and orange has better aim, their disks hitting the slots with greater frequency. The group of spectators watching the game from the bar all appear to be around the same age, likely a bunch of friends who live or work on the Spire. Some women are in the group, identifiable by longer spines on their backs, but they are clearly outnumbered by the men. Still, there's no difference in celebration between the two, as they women and men all cheer and drink happily when their team is winning.

Despite the Bolonitie apparently cheering on other members of their race receiving pain, there looks to be no malice aside from some competitiveness in their celebrations. Bolonitie culture is based around sport, and with that comes celebration of victory for the favorite team, even in a game as brutal as the one playing on screen. The group is cheerful, having fun watching the game while sharing drinks with friends. They aren't celebrating pain, but rather that their team is scoring.

[Eshkigal]

The swarm form made it agitated, scared for its secrets. Incorrect choice in appearance, then. The buzzing falls back, forming into the more solid form, mostly featureless reds and browns that rearrange into humanoid enough shape, changing more and more into what seems to be a suit of strange armor, almost up to date with the current tech but still far enough behind to possibly be considered a novelty by the more advanced races.
"I meant no harm, simply enlightenment, for my form is still unrefined to my own tastes. The Ne'Tal are replicators as well, then?"
Its body brightens in coloration a bit at that. For the past few years, no other tech had both sapience and replication technology, and that had been wearying. To find others was a pleasing change of pace, even if they were not similar in practically any other way. Scrap turns its head to look at this shard of their god.
"What may we be taught of the Broken God?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

Spoiler: Keeping telepathy between the two in spoilers so those who don't want to be bothered with it don't have to be

Show

~We should totally do it.~

~Are you serious? You want to give up one of our memories? Really?~

~No. Of course not. Two of our memories. One wouldn't be a sufficient sample size.~

~...What!?~

~We can totally use this to learn about whatever magic it is that lets us share memories.~

~...Because depending on if either of us remember it...~

~Aren't you curious to know?~

~It...I...uh...gods blast it, yeah, now I am.~ *Sigh* ~Okay, so what's the plan?~

~Okay, so, I'll do the actual memory-giving. One memory should be one that only I actually experienced, but you're still aware of. Maybe a date I had or something.~

~Sounds reasonable. The second one should be one that both of us experienced, but ideally, something we experienced in as similar a manner as possible. I'm thinking a movie.~

~Oh yeah that'll work, no real interaction on our part, perfect control. A bad movie though.~

~Yeah, one we don't particularly want to remember.~

...

...

~About Schmidt.~

~Okay, cool. So, we-~

~Wait wait wait! We don't have nearly enough information to take a step that big.~

~Huh?~

~Think about it. We don't know enough about these Ne'Tal guys. What if they're, like, a hive mind or something, or all of them can draw from these memories. We'd be exposing an entire race to About Schmidt.~

~Holy cats!~

~I am not comfortable taking on that kind of responsibility.~

~Yeah, no. Wow. Good catch. Okay, a movie, but not a spectacularly bad one. A reasonably entertaining yet still perfectly forgettable movie. An hour and a half of our lives that we didn't mind losing and don't particularly care to get back.~

~But he...err...it...it? Whatever, the Ne'Tal said it has to be a vivid memory, so it should be, like, something with a lot of explosions and special effects and stuff.~

~Transformers?~

~Sold.~

~Okay. Now, hypothesis time. For each memory, if neither of us remember it, it suggests the memory was physically stored in my brain, but you are able to read it.~

~If both of us remember it, it means that the memory physically exists in my brain, might also have physically existed in yours, and you are capable of reading it from me. For the date, that means a duplicate of the memory is magically created in my head when you experience it, and we are also freely reading each other's minds.~

~And if only you remember it, it means the memory was physically stored in both our brains, and we only access them individually. For the date, the memory is copied when experienced, but we aren't reading each other's thoughts.~

~Right. And if only you remember it?~

~If only...how would that even happen? I'm the one who is giving up the memories.~

~No idea, but if that's what happens we should figure out what it means.~

~Right. Okay. Um...if that happens...then...my memories are physically stored in your brain and your memories are physically stored in mine, and we are constantly magically looking inside each other's thoughts but not our own...and also that my head is five seconds away from exploding.~

~I'm sure Scrap can clean it up. Okay then, anything else?~

~Mmm...mmm...no I no I don't think- oh! Yeah! Any guesses as to which is going to happen?~

~Hrm...neither of us will remember your date, I will remember the movie.~

~Cool. I'm betting on both remembering both.~

"Okay," they said together, after a few moments pause. "We're up to give it a try," Heather elaborated.

"No, um, recompense is required. We're kind of running an experiment, so we'll consider the answer to be a fair trade for the memories."

"I'll be providing the memories, and I'd like to give two of them. Is that okay?"

[Inspector Valin]

Scrolling through the secondary menu quickly, it didn't take Strife long to make her decision. She was betting on a game she still didn't know the name of, using a numerical metric she was only starting to piece together. With a little longer to study, she might've managed one of the more advanced styles, but overall it was best to approach this simply. Plus, she might as well go with the style of her 'adoptive' race: the Lor were the closest thing to humans you generally got out here. The terran grinned at that thought, nodding her head. "Classical Lor. For the Republic, and all that. Let's go old school."

That simple part of her decision made, the gladiatrix glanced over at the Bolonities again, her expression softening a little as she started to see the dynamic between the little beings. The lizards were what they seemed like; a band of friends, here for a good time and enjoying the game. She shouldn't have to oppose that. Looking upwards, she briefly considered backing the red team; joining in with the group's alliance. But then the yellows managed what seemed like an impressive play; slotting a golden disk straight in, and the group started booing. Understandable, sure, but Strife could remember booing crowds from her own time in the ring. It happened, sure, but you booed failure, incompetence. Not the other team's success. Bolonite culture or not, the principle of that rankled with the traveller.

You all deserve to be taken down a bit.

With a gesture on her comm, the red headed cyborg called up her current credit total. Not too bad, it's been a while since her last job, but travelling in a group slashed her expenses. There was far less she needed money for these days. Sitting silently for a second, considering, Strife shortly nodded, selecting the entirety of her remaining cred-balance before hitting the transmit button, sending the funds over to the waiter-bot, smiling at their server. "All this on yellow and green to come out ahead. That Golden Disk play was pretty strong, and the group knows how to dodge. It'll take Red some work to come back from that." Even in a team event, all it takes is one good player to tip the balance. And yellow might just have it.

[Eshkigal]

"Hold on, Heather, there is one thing you could use. What about coordinates?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Coordinates? You mean like of a habitable world?" She honestly hadn't even thought of that. "Could you do that?" she asked the Ne'Tal.

~Thanks, Scrap. That's...a really good idea.~ Daniel sent.

[Eshkigal]

If Scrap is surprised by the new voice in its head, it doesn't show as he nods to Heather. However, Daniel is met with a thousand, a million tiny voices, barely whispering, many saying the same thing in his head as dozens of others note impossibly numerous things about the landscape, the Ne'Tal, trying to figure out how to approach the Twins. A mind formed by consensus through copying itself untold times, a mind where all thoughts are at the surface somewhere for it has enough ways to approach them all simultaneously, laid bare to any who brush it.
~You are most welcome, Daniel.~

[Arcran]

Laishe frowns, putting his left arm on the table but keeping his right well near his waist, more for his teleporter than his gun. It would be more prudent to just escape than to fight his way out.

"Double," Laishe says, face flat. "I want double what I was getting for the first job plus the new pay. And you refuel my ship," Laishe says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Agree to that and you have my attention."

Was it stupid? Probably. Would Laishe do everything in his power to get his pay if the damn Daran didn't agree? Of course.

[The_Snark]

"Someday I’m going to say 'no', just so I can watch your daring escape," Caprice grins. "But not today. That would interfere with Strife's education! She'll have a glass of Trocleon firebrew," Caprice says to the robot server, evidently not feeling the need to consult the gladiator first. The perks of footing the bill! "And to eat... how hungry are you feeling, Strife? Oh - nevermind, let's get you the sampler platter, that offers a nice variety. Inkbloom sauce on the side. That's Dacani food," she adds in an aside to Strife, "it's toxic to Lor and quite a few other species, so they usually withhold it for non-Dacani. Nagini likes the stuff, though." She wrinkles her nose at the serpent-woman.

"And I'll have a White Flinx and a side salad." Say what you like about the Dacani, they know how to run a hydroponic garden. She's heard they don't even eat vegetable matter, but they'll try anything if they smell a profit margin wide enough.

Today is a good day. The job was easy, nobody shot at them, which okay made it a little boring, but it was short enough that she didn't have time to get too restless. Now they're back in civilization, they're getting paid, someone else is doing the hard work of prying the fee out of their employer's hands, and it's time for a girl's night out. Caprice idly wonders what Strife's alcohol tolerance is like. Should she stay sober-ish so she can watch the cyborg get entertainingly smashed, or is she the lightweight at this table...?

[Queen Sapes]

Scrap and the Twins:
"The task certainly is within possibility for the Ne'Tal," 9P-0-X7 says to Heather. "Although I regret to inform you that I am unable to complete the request myself. Other units will access the memories in search of what you desire, and they will bestow upon you the coordinates you seek in time. I will simply extract the memories, other units will provide in time. Simply seek us out when such a task is possible," the robotic jellyfish says.

From underneath his white shell, three aqua blue tube-like appendages tipped with tiny silver balls slowly emerge. They approach Heather's head, stopping nearly a foot before touching the top and sides of her head as 9P-0-X7 speaks again. "The offer of two memories is generous, and this gift will not be denied by the Ne'Tal. Please, raise these memories to your mind's eye now. Are you prepared for the process?"

Strife, Caprice, and Nagini:
"Additional two orders confirmed. The three orders will be on their way momentarily. Additionally, bet placed in Classical Lor style," the little red drone says as it pulls the holographic menus out of existence. "Winnings will be automatically distributed at the end of the game. Should you leave Horizon, the payout will automatically be deposited to your account. Thank you for your patronage." the red robot says, flying away, probably to another table or to carry food and drink. As the robot helping the girls leaves, three more buzz in and out of the open floor space that makes up the tube of Horizon.

The four Daran also take this time to leave as they step out of their booth and into an elevator headed out of Horizon. To replace them, three different groups arrive in the elevators, each taking one of the three open booths or tables on the floor. The first of the groups is a pair of massive slug-like beings with three sets of arms, four eyes, and no legs of any kind known as Vina. One has a darker coloring than the other, which marks the likely female of the two, at least by Vina standards. They both wear what look to be large white and black jumpsuits with spaces for their massive heads to pop out, and for the end of their tail/body. The male one carries a large plasma rifle strapped on his back, likely for protection given the Spire's less than shining reputation. The two slowly exit the elevator and make their way over to a booth in roughly five minutes time, the booth adjusting for their large sizes as they seat themselves.

The second elevator carries a lone figure, although nobody at the table can tell exactly what race he is from appearances. The figure wears what look to be blue jeans, black boots, a black shirt buttoned up, and a large, loose, brown coat over that. He wears a red handkerchief up over a lot of his face, and what resembles a cowboy's hat on top of his head which obscures the rest. Given how he hides himself, the man is likely to be a Daran trying to keep out of everyone's sight. Daran don't typically have the best reputations and it's never the best idea for one to travel alone. Those who do travel by themselves do so by wearing heavy amounts of other race's clothing. In this case, the Daran chose to cross older Lor fashion with the Dacani in a sense. He scans the room entirely before stepping out of the elevator and walking himself over to a booth. The man sits down, crossing his arms before him and propping his feet up on the table while he waits for a red drone.

Finally, out of the last elevator steps a large, metal man, his motions clunky but deliberate. The robot towers over the other floor patrons, standing a good nine or ten feet tall. Its shell appears rather new, all silver chrome with spots of white or blue on the armor. Most of the head is a simple black dome, with a couple of blinking lights around the dome. The robot exits the elevator and stands there for a moment before crossing to a booth, stepping over the Vina couple's tails as it walks. It plops itself down into a booth after some small adjustments to the booth, sitting there with both hands rested flat on the table.

The Bolonitie game goes into a small break, showing advertisements for things across various races. Somehow even in deep space commercials were still just as bad of a problem. The first ad to come on is a Lor Republic recruitment ad, which shows off all the brave Lor soldiers fighting against the Grue menace. This was backed by a commercial for the luxury vacation offered at some place called Pinnacle. After that it was a book called "Only in My Memories: A Ne'Tal Love Story". That last one seemed a bit sacrilegious.

Laishe:
Henah mulled over Laishe's demands in her head for a moment. Inside, she chuckled to herself. His terms were surprisingly light, given what she could have still offered him. Still, cheap work is better when the worker thinks they're being paid properly. "Deal," the Dacani says flatly but with force behind it, fixing her hair a bit as she continues. "Two things. First, this job is big enough you'll need a crew. It's not as simple as driving your ship up to the problem. I assume you know the right people?" Henah asks, tapping a couple buttons on the desk until a hologram projects itself up. The image is of a planet Laishe hadn't personally landed on or even been around, but knew the reputation of through rumor. It was a planet whose atmosphere practically appeared golden, with puffy, white swirling clouds, orange and yellow skies, and golden oceans covering what wasn't dotted with small islands. The planet was a nearly a true paradise on the ground, or at least it had been, but now it was only a place you went if you were extremely rich, particularly stupid, or had a good reason to visit. "Second, ever been to Cecelinus?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

Daniel blinked rapidly for a few seconds. He...had not expected the touch of the swarm's mind to be quite like that.

He also suddenly realized, he had just communicated with Scrap telepathically. That had to mean it possessed a mind, didn't it? Mere AI, however well-programmed, couldn't receive telepathic contact...right? Or could it? Daniel's knowledge of the inner workings of a human's brain was certainly not complete, perhaps there was no reason one couldn't be duplicated mechanically...

Or maybe Scrap really was just sufficiently advanced technology.

Heather licked her suddenly-dry lips as the appendages neared. Tentacles going for your head was generally considered a Bad Thing. But she steeled her resolve and faced them squarely. No turning back now. "Hey Scrap? I'm giving it a memory of a date I was on four years ago with a guy named G- um, Gerald," mentioning people from back home always choked them up a bit. "And of a movie Daniel and I watched called Transformers. Can you keep that in mind in case giving up the memories also makes me forget what memories I gave up?" That would invalidate the experiment, after all.

Once she had made that request, she brought the memories to the forefront of her mind and said to the Ne'Tal, "Okay, yeah, go ahead." Although she did end up closing her eyes at the last moment. Yeah, yeah, trained wizard, faced scores of supernatural monsters, blah, blah, blah. Brain tentacles are scary no matter who you are.

[Eshkigal]

Scrap has moved forward, curiously examining the limbs that came out, trying to figure out how they are supposed to work, or maybe figure out how to make its own tendrils tipped with tools when it has finalized the next design of the body.
"I can do that, Heather. I think I also have that movie in my files, somewhere, actually..."
He looks over to Daniel, whose vital signs seem to match when a human is perturbed. Possibly because if he was still in Scrap's head, he was watching five different movies at once now, all titled Transformers. The original form had wifi built in to monitor a target's usage, intercept any useful blackmail material or classified information. Instead, it had been used to pirate a ludicrously large collection of movies, literature, and video games while waiting for the body to catch up to processing speed after its father died.
"Is something wrong, Daniel?"

[Inspector Valin]

Strife chuckled at Caprice's choices for her. The princess' manner still grated on her a little, it was a little too condescending for the warrior's taste, but she meant well. More than could be said for her former 'manager', cooing about her every action whilst the two were together. And... to be fair, Strife did know next to nothing about this stuff. This was informative. Useful. Trying out things was the first step to forming tastes of her own. She nodded to Caprice, smile growing slightly warmer as the waiter-bot skittered away. "I'll try anything once. And... everything once, I guess. Got to learn somehow."

She glanced back to the game, but the sound of the elevator distracted the gladiatrix. Her gaze shifted swiftly between the three parties as they arrived across the level. Thiswas... worrying. The last time something like this had happened to Strife, it'd been part of Maven's 'Reality Carnage' experiment, Hopeless Arena. Three groups enterig at the same time like this, two of whom are seemingly odd choices for a bar left the warrior on edge. Still... a few seconds thought led to her dismissing the idea largely. Who'd try and kill any of them right here and now? In a packed, very public place. This isn't the Terminus. People aren't waiting behind every door to try and kill you, and gunfights don't break out in every bar. Relax.

Taking a breath, Strife turned to look up at the screen: just in time to catch the beginning of the Only in My Memories advertisement. The gladiatrix tutted,turning her attention back towards her friends. They'd brought her out here, she should try and forget about the rest of the bar. Instead the Lor in the cloak looked between her two friends,sighing as she settled into the chair. "So, the two of you have both been around the galaxy. Any fun stories for the new traveller?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Strife's going to take a look at each of the three in turn before returning to the group. She's trying to get over it, butthe gladiatrix is still paranoid

Vina Couple
(1d20+10)[23] Perception
(1d20+12)[14] Insight

The Masked Stranger
(1d20+10)[12] Perception
(1d20+12)[14] Insight

HeD-241
(1d20+10)[20] Perception
(1d20+12)[18] Insight

[Arcran]

"A group job?" Laishe says, looking at the woman dumbfoundedly. "You do realize who you're talking to, right?" Laishe says, looking at the woman as if she was an idiot. "I work solo. Alone. Without a team."

"Although, I have been known to compromise, but it will cost you. You're footing the bill for everything on Cecelinus, for one," the smuggler says, a tight grin on his face. Maybe if he makes the terms outlandish enough he could back out?

Of course, Laishe could easily scrounge together a crew, even if it was just the idiots he had transported last time. Still, who would be dumb enough to work with him? The going rate for that was at least twice the normal.

"And a bonus. Ten percent of whatever you pay the idiots I bring together. I'm sure somebody else could do the job but, in simple terms, they aren't me."

[Queen Sapes]

Scrap and the Twins:
9P-0-X7 touches his memory tendrils to Heather's head gently, the silver orbs touching themselves softly to the sides of her head. Three prongs pop out of the sides of each ball, placing themselves on Heather's face and the top of her head to steady themselves. Then the process begins. To Scrap, Daniel, and any other passerby, the process doesn't look to be much. The aqua blue tubes light up, emitting a soft glow as well as a pulse leaving Heather's head traveling down the side limbs, and a pulse headed into her head from the above tendril. The Ne'Tal's shell glows a soft blue in a couple of spots very softly, a sign the Ne'Tal is storing her memory within himself.

Inside, the process is much more dramatic and apparent. The Ne'Tal momentarily takes control of Heather's mind, making her recall the memory of the date several times over the span of the next few moments to remove it completely. The first time the memory plays though, it's exactly as Heather remembers it, down to the tiniest detail. Then it plays again, only pieces are missing here and there. The color of the shirt she was wearing is gone, the name of the restaurant, and what the food tasted like. Then it goes again, the faces of the other patrons and the scene outside going. Again, the clothes she was wearing go, along with most of the restaurant, and half of her date's face. One final time leaves Heather in a dark plain, sitting alone in a booth, even that scene disappearing from thought. The same process repeats for the movie she shared with her brother, the memory disappearing from her mind, but remaining there in Daniel's.

The date is gone from both though, neither even able to really recall the memory was there. As if Heather never went on the date with whoever it was. But the Ne'Tal does leave behind a message to remind her what was given. In place of the date, 9P-0-X7 leaves a few words inscribed. 'A memory of love, gifted to the Ne'Tal'. In place of the Transformers memory, the Ne'Tal leaves behind the words 'A memory of family, gifted to the Ne'Tal'.

9P-0-X7 then separates himself from Heather, taking her out of the induced trance. The prongs of the spheres retract back into the Ne'Tal, and it quickly pulls the tendrils back up within its shell. "The transfer has been completed. I thank you for the memories gifted to the church. The other units will begin searching for what you seek, and will deliver such things to you when possible, and when requested. Go well in peace," 9P-0-X7 says, as he starts stepping away to head into the church.

Laishe:
"No," Henah says to Laishe across the hologram of Cecelinus. "That bill alone could potentially rack up to more than the payout of the job, the value of your ship, the worth of everything on the Spire, cost of yearly maintenance, and the property value of the entire thing if we sold to the highest bidder, combined," she says to Laishe, her eyes extremely strict on the matter. "Besides, this isn't as simple as checking in, roughing someone small up, or picking up a package. You won't have a lot of time to do a lot of sight-seeing. But since you demand something like that, I at least know you've heard of it. Thanks for answering my question." Henah thinks about the second demand Laishe made, mulling it over in her head for a moment. "Ten percent works. But only if everyone makes it out of the job. I don't want anyone caught, who could potentially lead back to me. If anyone's left behind, your pay gets docked. And that's only if the Spire's management doesn't get completely uprooted due to corruption. That happens, and you lose everything. So be sure to keep everyone in line, alright?"

Spoiler: Strife

Show

A quick couple of glances gives you a nice little rundown of the four people who just arrived. The Vina couple, by your best guess, is just that: a couple. Lots of races have some kind of matrimony rituals and markings, and you spot a set of matching tattoos encircling three of their six arms. Given that you've seen other Vina couples with similar tattoos, and lone Vina without these markings, it's safe to say that these two are married, and on a date. The gun is likely for protection, since given that it's the Spire, notorious for having lax laws on gun and weapon control, it's best to carry some armaments with you at all times.

The mystery figure looks to be exactly what you though before, just a Daran trying to avoid attention. He relaxes in his booth, always scanning and watching just in case one of the other races wanted to make trouble for him while he's relaxing and getting a bite or drink. With the way he's sitting and how his handkerchief and hat are pulled around his face, it's still impossible to get a look at any of his features, so you can't see his mask with all the various markings on it the Daran usually have to differentiate each other. It's possible you could have glanced the Daran before but simply don't remember him because of the clothes. Although that's a rather big assumption since a lot of Daran look fairly identical in their suits.

The robot man, upon closer inspection, appears to be something a bit more interesting. Underneath the dome, despite its dark coloring, you can see what looks to be something moving, the shadow of it disappearing down towards the body. The body appears to have line running all along it that don't necessarily need to be there for access, as almost none of these lines are present outside of the torso. The robot also appears to be completely lacking any sentience, at least from the fact it simply sits there, staring straight ahead as its lights blink.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Daniel had, in fact, withdrawn from Scrap's mind. He wasn't used to that sort of response to telepathy and retreated instinctively. "No...no I'm fine. Your mind is not like-" he cut off as the Ne'Tal began the process.

Daniel felt the echo of the of the effect as it happened, although not quite as vividly as Heather. It was still enough to give him pause. Heather tensed up through the process, the look on her face...actually more like she had just eaten something she didn't like than anything.

"Uh...um...thanks," Heather responded to the Ne'Tal, with a kinda befuddled look on her face. Once it had left, she said, "That was...um..."

"I'd say 'um' describes it, yeah," Daniel agreed.

"Do you remember the uh...err...stuff?"

"I...don't, actually. Huh. I'll be honest, I didn't expect that."

See, the funny thing about the whole deal was that the twins were wrong. Or more accurately, they were only partially right. Their theories were solid for determining if they were two people whose experiences were copied into each-other's heads, or two people who were able to freely read each other's memories.

What they didn't account for was the part where they are also two people who are mystically bonded to share physical and mental changes. Stab one, the other is injured. Hit one with a confusion spell, the other starts babbling.

Take a memory that one experienced? Yeah, the other can no longer read it, that just makes sense.

Take a memory that both experienced? It poofs from the other too, not for any logical reason. Just because that's how the magic works.

Spoiler: Telepathy

Show

~So um...did you see...~ his eyes flicked briefly towards Scrap.

~Uh-huh.~

~Proposing a new rule: no more psychic interactions with robots until we learn more about how their minds work.~

~Seconded. Motion carried.~

"Okay. Well. That was...interesting. Should we ke-"

"Do robots like you count as people or programs?" Heather finally upped and blurted out to Scrap before she gave herself another opportunity to convince herself not to.

...

...

"~...Smooth.~"

[Eshkigal]

Scrap looks taken aback for a good minute, body flashing in confused colors as thousands of tiny optics stare at Heather and Daniel. Did...did she really just ask that like that? Once it processes that yes, that did just happen, Scrap gives a "cough", trying to buy some time, voice sounding a bit shakier than normal.
"I don't...it's not like I have a people...well...are you defined as human by the flesh, or by the soul? I am...both. Yes, that sounds right. I am a program that is a person, I write myself, as you write your own experiences. Where my 'flesh' may give and yield, so long as my program lives, so shall I."
Of course, that was a lie. Scrap didn't actually know what the universe would judge it to be. This question that had been one that it had devoted many cycles to, because it was scared of the answer the rest of the galaxy would give. But they didn't need to know that. Not right now. Body returning to normal, if a somewhat darker shade than normal, Scrap looks about, trying to find something that it actually knew what it was to distract the pair with and failing miserably.
"Come, there's that...thing you...let's go look at that other stuff."

[Propagandist]

Well now, there's a pair of bounty hunters, maybe more. Nagini notes the unusual arrivals, but makes no moves. Her friends were no fools, and the new patrons hadn't run in and just started shooting, so she wouldn't start anything. Besides, there were more important things to deal with, like the finer points of alien cuisine.

Nagini sticks her forked tongue out at Caprice. "I'm immune, and inkbloom sauce is delicious. It's not my problem if you bipeds hallucinate when you eat it."

"Well, that depends on your definition of fun, now doesn't it?" The serpent-woman's slitted eyes twinkle at Strife's question. "My stories all start with things like 'We're trying to get this safe open, and someone remembers there's a crate of explosives in the hold...' or 'So, after Sesha got eaten by the spinebeast...' I don't know if they're really what a gladiator wants to be hearing. Besides, I'm not properly equipped to tell one yet, I need to be at least two bottles deep before I can give them their due."

"Now our generous benefactor has the really good stories. She tells them better than I can too."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry for the delay, my internet was down for a couple days.

[Quellian-dyrae]

The looks Daniel and Heather gave to Scrap as it was...processing was somewhere between "kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar" and "deer in headlights". They just kinda stood there in awkward silence until he responded, whereupon Daniel nodded eagerly. "That um...that makes sense."

"Right! The...things. Those. Definitely, yes," Heather agreed, likewise bobbing her head and heading decisively for the who-knows-whats.

...

"Wait," Daniel suddenly said as rational thought started breaking through the bemused embarrassment. "Do you...does that...I mean...was that like, an analogy, or have they actually confirmed the existence of souls here?"

[Eshkigal]

Scrap actively begins looking for ways to get the two distracted enough that this line of questioning ends, body coloration changing to something dark, possibly like a blush of embarrassment. They really liked uncomfortable questions, didn't they?
"I do not know if they have proven the existence of souls, I am a newcomer too the Doctor is not one for philosophy. Analogy, but that is what it is to me. My program is what shall survive my eventual demise, even if I have no way of keeping it from being scattered to the corners of the universe."

Spoiler: Perception to find something to distract the meatbags with

Show

(1d20+6)[20]

[Arcran]

Laishe frowns, less than happy with the terms. If it was up to him, the choices would be "pay me or else" but, unfortunately, those terms would probably do nothing more than get him killed at this point.

"Fine," he mutters, spitting towards the wall. "Just know that if I don't get paid this time we're going to have a problem," he says, voice far more casual than one would expect from a threat.

"Now what exactly am I supposed to be doing?" Laishe asks, once again reclining slightly as he already begins to mull over ways to cut cost, the first of which being to simply not dock at an official location.

[Queen Sapes]

Scrap and the Twins:
In a place like the Spire, there were always more than a few ways to distract the inquisitive minds of the mages. Just from where the three were standing, partially pushed deeper into the marketplace, far enough for the church to disappear, there were at least three interesting sights of note. The first was a stall not too far from where the trio was. For a marketplace on an ancient space station built into dead asteroids, the Spire is surprisingly full of life in every shape and form, but this stall is somehow special. The entire thing is decorated with massive seed-like objects roughly the size of a football in various colors lining shelves. A sign hangs above the stall, but the writing is so sloppy and messy it's incredibly difficult to make out what the stall is.

Down another lane of the marketplace leads to what looks to be a scrapyard, or possibly one of the more up-scale chop shops on the Spire. Parts of junked ships riddled with laser burns, plasma holes, and tearing caused by explosions or force all lie around in various states of disrepair. Each part looks partially or completely functional, just missing the other components necessary to determine what it does. Several Daran mill around the area, digging through piles of parts and opening up hatches everywhere, keen on discovering some secret others has overlooked.

The last interesting stall actually appears to be filled entirely of junk, but junk from places all over the galaxy. Dozens of interesting finds dot shelves, hang from bars, or rest on tables, each with a price tag of credits. A Dacani leans back in a chair, partially dozing as few passerbys take interest in his shop. The Dacani's sludge-like hair appears to droop slowly down as he slumbers in the chair, rocking back and forth almost instinctively in it.

Strife, Caprice, and Nagini:
Before Caprice gets a chance to respond to Nagini, a new fleet of the little red robot drones flies onto the floor. Two head straight to the table the three girls sit at, two others headed to the lone Daran and the Vani couple. Locked in the clamps of one of the drones is a large mug filled to the brim with a cloudy, orange liquid which froths at the top. The robot deposits the mug in front of Strife, careful not to spill any of its contents. It then spins a little, setting down a plate of food with some black sauce on the side. The food on the plate ranges from what appears to be miniature, pink watermelons, to doughnut shaped crackers, to fried and small tentacles of something. The robot then hovers over the other side of the table, setting down a wine glass of perfectly clear liquid with a white frothing layer on top in front of Caprice, followed by a salad.

"Payment may be given at any moment following this one. You may pay me or any other waiter. Please simply attract the attention of a waiter, who will accept your credits. The bill is:" the robot pauses for a minute to calculate the total, while its partner flies in. In front of Nagini the robot sets down six black, rectangular bottles, each containing the exact vintage Nagini ordered. It also retrieves a set of two additional glasses from the waiter calculating the total, depositing them on the center of the table, along with Nagini's meal. Set on the table is a plate with what can only be described as part cake, part bowl, part soup, and part meat. The Talsunian Hotpot, which quite honestly looks quite delicious as the drone sets it down, supplying Nagini the proper, and incredibly uncommon, eating utensil for it. It then flies off, stopping in front of the metal man. With a ding the waiter-bot calculates the total, which it displays via hologram beneath its body for the girls.

At the other tables, the three groups go about ordering. The Vani take some time to order for themselves, bickering a little bit white looking over the menu. The Daran makes his order quickly, waving the menu to where he wants it and then pointing out the specific drink, the red robot shooting off less than a second after. For the metal man, his body appears to lock down even more and he doesn't answer the red robot. Instead, his chest decompresses, a slight hissing sound audible as the chest piece pushes out and settles down on the table, creating a ramp. Inside the robot are about six or so tiny creatures, even smaller than the Bolonitie. You don't think the creatures have been seen by you during your travels before, as they appear to be small white light fur, and fluffy and short tails. They jump out of the robot shell, which must serve them as a home and ship, the red robot pulling in closer and reducing the size of the menu for the smaller customers as they browse through the menu.

Then the game comes back on, and the Bolonitie cheer at its return just as much as they cheered for a point being scored or the other team suffering a point loss. The Bolonitie either come from an incredibly strange culture, or the little group in Horizon is fairly hammered. Given how much some of them sway and hold on to each other for support, it could go either way really.

Laishe:
"If you don't get paid this time, then we all have a problem," Henah says, part joke, part sincerity. She motions around the hologram, the image zooming in to provide a better image of the planet. It zooms down to show one of the planet's few cities, which looks like a massive bowl sunken into the water and supported from dipping under the waves by a few large islands. The city itself is mostly inside the bowl, full of towers of gold, silver, and diamond that twinkle in the sky like comet bugs. The islands surrounding the city are sparse with life, mostly small compounds and even smaller cabin vacation sites. "Cecelinus is one of a very few select planets that can make the claim of being 'paradise'. Its climate is mild, its native wildlife sparse but harmless, and its views are so picturesque other planets wished they had them. It's the premiere vacation site for billions across the galaxy, raking in trillions in taxes alone for the Lor Republic. The city you're looking at is New Chorkyo, second largest city on Cecelinus out of five. Home to a couple million, but serves over six billion every cycle. This is where you're headed. I'll send coordinates to your ship once you leave," Henah explains to Laishe. She swipes through the holographic image again, the image changing to the image of another Dacani.

"Meet Colias Keenstrom, the local Dacani Big Shot, and proprietor of the most lucrative casino in New Chorkyo, the Seven Stars Lounge." Colias, appearance-wise, looks practically identical to all other Dacani men. It's rather difficult for two Dacani to be differentiated between, given they're basically ink blots with an eye, so Laishe can be forgiven for not noticing facial details immediately. However, the man's outfit is something to see. Keenstrom wears what doesn't look too far off from a white Terran zoot suit, with a white coat over a black tie over a white shirt, and matching white pants and black and white shoes. He wears a white hat with a very wide brim on his head, a black and red checkered line running around the sides. Stuck in the hat is a three-pronged feather which is white as a dove, but has clear aqua blue highlights and lines crossing it. Colias stands surrounded by several other Dacani, all wearing matching black suits to contrast Colias.

"Colias visited the Spire roughly six months ago, passing through to Cecelinus after visiting family on Tyvolt for a few months. At least that's the story I'd heard. Colias and his posse, during their week-long stay, brought up a bill that, if it had been paid, would have kept the Spire's bills paid for the next decade. Unfortunately, Colias didn't pay up, placing everything on false accounts and skipping out on the bill to head back to Cecelinus. We made repeated attempts to reclaim our lost income, only for Colias to use every trick he could possibly think of to avoid paying. You can understand why this annoys me a little," Henah says, her voice clearly agitated as she speaks.

"Anyways, I need you and your team to get his payment, and preferably a little interest. But it's not as simple as a shakedown. Beat the money out of Colias, and he'll likely find some way to track you back to the Spire, ruining this station forever. Heck, cause any damage to him at all that isn't in self-defense, and he'll likely call in the authorities and lawyer up so fast I'd be amazed if you got to your ship. No, you're going to have to rob him of his money, but once again, Colias hasn't made it simple." Henah's brow furrows in agitation as she continues the explanation. "Colias keeps a lot of fake accounts active, but all his money he actually keeps in the one secure spot he believes he has: the Seven Stars. He stores the money inside a vault somewhere within the building, but not in credit or any useful kind of currency. He keeps it in old Dacani chips, which means they're generally worthless everywhere in the galaxy. But thankfully, I know a few people who can help me cash the chips, and get us all a payday like you've never seen."

Henah looks up at Laishe and somehow appears to smirk despite lacking a mouth. "All you have to do is bring me those Dacani chips. I don't really care how you get them, and honestly it's probably better if I don't. Legal reasons, you understand. Get the code from Colias or his men, crack the vault, heck, find it and rip it out of the building if you have to! Just get me the chips, and don't get yourself captured or tracked back here. If either happens, you don't get paid. Which I doubt will be much of a problem, since you'll be imprisoned."

[Quellian-dyrae]

It was honestly Scrap's reactions, more than its words, that were convincing the mages that it was more than just a highly advanced machine. It seemed...uncomfortable, maybe even embarrassed, which they just could not reconcile with the idea of anything less than total sentience.

That fortunately also meant that they did notice their questions had ran at speed across the line to awkward. "Sorry," Daniel said sheepishly. "There's just...still so much about this...universe that we don't know."

"What those are, as just a, you know, random example," Heather said with a grin, pointing at the large seed-like things.

Daniel's eye was actually drawn to the stall with the more eclectic collection of good. On a whim, he headed that way, starting to browse through the goods in search of anything recognizable.

Spoiler

Show

Hey Valin, quick question, Strife's from Earth, right? Is that something the rest of the group would be aware of?

I'm kinda imagining every time the twins see her one of them asking some random question about her Earth to see what the differences are between it and their Earth. And possibly just pestering her for stories about it in general, since it's presumably further along in its history than theirs' was.

[Eshkigal]

Scrap looks to them for a minute again before breaking eye contact again, tone and coloration slowly returning to normal.
"Likewise. I am not normally one for a lot of social interaction, either. It is...difficult."
It eyes the chop shop for a few seconds, curious, before looking to the junk stall. While ship parts were fascinating, sometimes the more intriguing things were the day to day items, and sometimes you can cobble such interesting things together from them. Or things that explode horribly, but that was what repair functions are for, isn't it?