Shadow of the Crimson Turtle

Ceph puts on his friendliest face and extends a hand to the man. "Ah, of course. You can call me Ceph. I'm a private investigator contracted to look into the nasty business that happened earlier today. My client works with refugee force users, helps them integrate into their new homes here with RBS. So an attack like that targeting them... well we take that very seriously. My associates and I were just doing a little light digging hoping to find any information about whatever wacko did this based on the signal that was sent after the explosion. The 'cyber-attack' was just a little misstep on our programmer's part." He leans in conspiratorially and lowers his voice. "You really gotta watch interns these days. They try and prove themselves and end up getting into all sorts of trouble." He raises his hands in an innocent gesture. "Really sorry about all of that. I know you guys are dealing with a lot right now in the wake of this, and we really aren't trying to step on any toes or get in the way of your investigation. But, if we do come across anything we'll be sure to let you know." he smiles, letting catching a breath after that spiel. "Anything else you need, Detective?"

Detective Okoye cautiously takes Ceph's offered hand. "That's... very good of you," he begins, still watching the group of misfits at the table behind him. "Although, it would be appreciated if you would coordinate your efforts with local law enforcement to avoid such misunderstandings in future. Do you have any identification so that I can confirm your story? Who did you say you were working for again?"

"Of course, yes we'll absolutely do that going forward." At the man's request, Ceph pulls out his i.d. "Here ya go. And my client prefers discretion. It's a small operation, grassroots, and given the nature of their work they could be at risk if the wrong people found out. Not every station is as welcoming as this one."

Okoye scans the ID with his datapad and waits for a moment as Ceph's records are called up from the database. He raises an eyebrow as he glances at the screen, but doesn't comment any further before handing the card back. "I expect this won't be the last we see of each other," he says, looking Ceph up and down, as though taking in all the details. "Keep your intern and yourself out of trouble." With that, he nods to the two troopers and all three leave.

"Of course, Detective. Have a good evening." he says cordially before closing the door and slumping against it. "Ohhh fuck. Well. Scraped by that one." Ceph walks back to the table and finishes the rest of his drink. "I'd say we're fine for tonight but it might be best to find another place tomorrow. After we investigate the area you narrowed in on, Nils."

Nils breathes a mental sigh of relief. He'd been silently wondering whether his body could survive the fall if he jumped out of the window. He wasn't entirely sure what it was made of, but he suspected its survival prospects were pretty doubtful. Still, maybe better than being captured. "It's not much to go on. We need more data. There must be security footage of the docking bay - if we can't get it remotely could we get it in person? Could you show them that card and just ask for it, Ceph, or could we steal it somehow? Do we have any money for bribes? And Derrab, if you have any contacts of a - not that I wish to offend - of a criminal persuasion, perhaps you could consult them, perhaps they may have heard of this group, or of a group purchasing explosives?" This sitting around the table was a novel experience, and watching the others interact was interesting, but he was slightly worried someone would notice and comment on the fact that whilst he had been prodding at the stew in his bowl in what he hoped was a convincing way, he hadn't actually eaten any of it. He'd put one experimental spoonful into his mouth, just to see what happened, and had discovered a lot of interesting things about it (it was apparently mainly water, with an assortment of lipids, proteins, carbohydrates, minerals, and trace amounts of numerous other chemicals), but he didn't think he had any way of actually swallowing it. He'd carefully put the mouthful back in the spoon when Sovia was looking the other way.

Derrab hangs near the side of the room, trying to make himself one part refrigerator and one part cabinet. His hand stays low, but a phantom sensation traces the path toward the holster in his coat. "I imagine security's a little tense around here what with that mess at the dock, eh?" "I'm going to guess the boss knows somebody, yeah. Let me see that area we're going to and make a call."

The line segment that Nils has identified runs through the central core of the station. This is much like any city centre, and access isn't explicitly limited. It's one of the most heavily frequented regions of Endor station, and plenty of traffic comes and goes all the time. However, the possible source of the signal does include the station's main spire and central control tower. Entry to these areas will be more severely restricted. It doesn't take long for Lad to answer Derrab's call. "Mate! Wassup?"

"Boss, hit a snag. Going to forward you an area of the city along with some key points. Need to know if you've got anyone on the inside or a way to get in." Derrab's composure seems to have taken a much more somber, punctuated tone.

"Mmm, tricky, mate, tricky." Lad replies. "That's the Central Agency's gig, you feel me? Why you tryna get into control, anyway?"

Ceph walks over and leans closer to chime in. "We traced the signal from that creepy transmission. The call must've come from somewhere in that stretch."

"I mean, mate, a transmission could be from anywhere in the core..." Lad clearly sounds irritated. "Look, go check it out, alright? Then we'll see. Could take me some time to find you a way in anyway."

Sovia finishes up her stew, forcing refills into people's bowls before wiping her face and hands and clearing the table before cleaning down everything they have used. She listens intently to the conversation,but mutters as it seems to be coming to an end. "I understand less of what that man says than I don't, but he is correct in at least one thing, I think we should go and investigate. Perhaps we can aquire another source to trace from."

"Sounds good to me! Even if we don't find anything, we can do some sightseeing! Are we done here? Shall we go?" Nils stands up, pleased that Sovia didn't comment on his uneaten stew, and heads towards the door.

Sovia nods and gathers her small bundle of belongings. "Lead the way."

The nearest monorail station is only a ten minute walk from the residential tower that this apartment belongs to. It's what passes for 'early evening' on Endor station, and the streets are bustling with young people on their way out and workers heading home from their shifts. The rush hour is in full swing. The monorail terminal is a milieu of neon lights and intense smells. Foods from a dozen alien cultures are served to the teeming masses, and long lines grow in front of the ticket barriers. On one side of the main court, a brightly lit board advertises public notices, official and otherwise. Everything from galactic news to job offers and personals can be found here.

Over in one corner is a bank of ticket machines, and a large transit map. Nils examines and memorises the map, making note of the stop nearest to his projected signal source. He then moves over to one of the ticket machines and studies it intently. Despite an innate advanced understanding of the workings of a variety of standard machines, computer systems, droids and interfaces from across the galaxy, Nils is unable to make heads nor tails of how the ticketing system is supposed to work. Each route has multiple fares depending on whether they're travelling during peak, off-peak, or 'super-off-peak' hours (nowhere on the instructional panel does it identify what times these begin or end), and the ticket machine only seems to offer the options to add credits to an existing farecard or buy 'multi-trip saver' tickets for unlimited travel over multiple days. Judging by the looks on the faces of the young tourist couple at the next machine over, he was not the only one struggling to identify the correct purchase. After fighting with the unintuitive interface for several minutes, he eventually finds the option to vend a new reusable farecard (confusingly hidden under the 'add value to existing farecard' menu), and adds what he thinks is the right amount of credits for a return trip. The machine makes a grinding noise then spits out a card which looks similar to those being used by the regular commuters. Satisfied with this apparent victory, he pockets the card, points the young couple (now almost on the verge of tears) towards the menu options he had used, then goes and examines the board whilst his companions try and replicate his feat. He studies it for anything vaguely of interest to his wellbeing on the station, the current case, or relevant-sounding work.

Intimately familiar with navigating public transit, by the time Nils has infiltrated the kiosk and wrenched his card from it, Ceph has his card in hand and seems to have been watching the whole ordeal with an inquisitive brow raised. “You don’t get out much do you? Where are you from?”

"Somewhere they could probably build a half-functional ticket machine," mutters Nils darkly as he surveys the board.

The headline station-wide is, of course, the bombing in the port hangar bay. However, a variety of other, more minor news stories adorn the view screen. Life goes on, as they say. HUNDREDS OF REFUGEES STILL STUCK ON VESSEL IN BESPIN PORT LEK ON TRANDOSHA, WHERE POLITICAL UPHEAVAL MAY DISRUPT REPUBLIC PEACE PLAN RBS- BOING AIMS FOR FIRST LAUNCH OF 777X IN SECOND QUARTER CONTROL TOWER DEATHS BLAMED ON BUDGET FIRMS AND INFLUX OF INEXPERIENCED CLIMBERS I.A. CANDIDATE JAXX TO UNVEIL PLAN TO PROTECT WORKER'S RIGHTS The advertisements are a mess, most of which is junk. Fortunately, as an A.I., Nils is able to sift through it all fairly effectively. A diplomat named Morgonz needs someone to rescue a hostage from pirates in the Geona system. A surveyor named E'Taly is looking for a crew to explore the Addev system. An ithorian named Daha is looking for transport to the Bakura system. An businessman named Bandu needs someone to salvage a defective droid. A man named Honaii is looking for a private investigator. An official named Jesse Patte needs a private contractor to escort a group of robot cargo spaceships to Corea station. A merchant named Done Rookson is looking for somebody capable and discreet. An scientist named Sq'Shydra needs a tactical team for PMC work. A military officer, Captain Jase Linson, is looking for a beautiful young woman.

Leb, who has her hood on and is trying to keep a low profile, still recovering from her recent ordeals, taps on a nearby console trying to get more information about the refugees on Bespin. 

Sovia stands aside from the ticket machine. She appears to be in a trance whilst inside an internal struggle is taking place. She had not felt anything summon up the dark rage within her for many years as strongly as this machine had done. Having gone through the same loop several times she stands back. "Would one of you please assist me with this thing? I am afraid it is beyond me." She thrusts out some credits for one of her companions to buy her a ticket with before also turning her attention to the news reader. "The refugees. Somebody should give them opportunity to find themselves work. When I first left the republic many years ago, our leader found a lot of use in uniting those displaced by the wars. I traveled  amoungst them often afterwards also, and found quite a hive of resources. They could achieve much against the problems with the J-droids you have told me about."

Lebenda calls up the article and it casts directly to her RBS compad. A vessel from Burnin Konn, stranded in the Anoat Sector with more than 1300 refugees aboard, has been allowed to dock at Bespin's cloud city. However, the administrator has refused to let them disembark until a deal is struck with the Republic. "The Star of Micri berthed on Bespin overnight, as is the normal procedure for a refugee vessel. Now, the Republic has to act, because the refugee issue concerns the entire Outer Rim," transport department head Shi Tang said in a statement. Some 1400 refugees, who had set off from Burnin Konn in a sub-light transport, were picked up by local patrols and towed to the nearby world of Bespin. The operation took place on the same day that at least 1150 other refugees were feared lot in a debris field in the Wazta sector. Several refugees aboard the Star of Micri have already been evacuated for medical attention. The patrol crew is blocked on board along with the refugees. However, Bespin's far-right defence chief, Elias Kyrkos, has reiterated that the remaining refugees would not be able to leave the vessel until other Republic worlds agree to take them in. Mr. Kyrkos, also vice-administrator, has taken a hard line against refugees rescued in the Outer Rim being brought to Bespin, which he says bears an unfair burden in the crisis. Republic Chancellor Dopinder Kapoor announced that 14 Republic members had approved a plan to redistribute refugees rescued in the Outer Rim, and eight said they would actively take part. The proposal drew Kyrkos's ire because it still involved allowing migrants to disembark on Bespin. He said the agreement underscored a demand that Bespin "continue to be the refugee camp of the Republic". Jedi Master Kinjo called on the galactic community to "act swiftly" to help avoid further deaths. "I have learned with sorrow the news of the devastating attack that happened in recent days in the Anoat Sector, where dozens of refuges, including women and children, have lost their lives," he said during his weekly address. "I am renewing my call that the international community act swiftly and decisively to avoid that such tragedies repeat themselves and guarantee the safety and dignity of all." Former Bespin navy chief Marcus Octavius, who launched the Outer Rim deep space rescue plan last year, hailed the refugee's rescuers who "despite all were committed to accomplishing with honour their duty to protect lives." Just two months ago, more than 1500 people were stranded on the Astral Endeavour for over a week before an agreement between Bespin's administration and the Republic allowed them to disembark.

Ceph takes the credits from Sovia and quickly purchases a ticket for her. “You’d think it would be that simple, right? Maybe RBS could step in and offer incentives to Republic worlds that made efforts to take in more refugees or something.” he offers with a shrug. “Lets keep our minds focused on the task at hand though, daylights burning.” With that Ceph heads towards the monorail tracks, where a train is just pulling in. “Over here!” he waves to his companions.

"I fear that we cannot do nothing for them, but I am worried that what happened here spread along other systems and cause more casualities. We must never forget that we all are connected by the Force. Let's find this terrorist and let the entire Republic and Outer Rim that the useless lost of lives will not be tolerated. We face the destruction of our freedom and culture by the J-droids, we should unite and act as one and face this enemy together. This are dark times indeed " she finish more to herself than to the others.  She then remain silent as she paid her ticket.

Once the group reach the ticket barriers, it becomes apparent that they can also simply be fed directly with credits, resulting in a bevy of groans from all sides. It takes about twenty minutes for the high-speed monorail to reach the central core. Not so much because of the distance travelled, but rather due to the number of stops serviced en route. The carriages are packed and the air uncomfortably thick. Every now and then a jumbled announcement about CO2 scrubbers comes in over the muffled internal speakers. The more unusual members of the group draw some looks ranging from curious to hostile. Ceph and Derrab blend in without a problem, but Nils, Sovia and Leb often finds themselves the subject of pointed stares.

Sovia ignores the stares for the most part and instead focuses on the movement of the train. The change in speed, the sway of the bends and the whistling of the air past the windows as she shuts out the fear, anger and frustration she feels intruding on her mind from the other passengers. Internally she just feels grateful that no signal failure, strike, or other imagined problem has caused the journey to become delayed or cancelled, perhaps the force was with them today after all. 

Nils looks out of the windows at the passing city with interest, and tries to start a conversation about trains with a couple of other passengers (neither of whom, for some reason, seem particularly willing to engage on the subject). Seeing the job board has reminded Nils of something though. With some artful manouvering, he manages to squeeze past tired-looking commuters until he's standing next to Ceph. "Hey, Ceph, I meant to ask earlier. This has been fun so far and I'm 100% on board with everything, but would I be right in thinking someone was going to be paying us too? Is there someone we can claim travel expenses from?"

Ceph nods and bites his lips a bit without making eye contact, clearly thinking of the right words. "Mmm well ya see it's more of a commission kind of thing than a salaried position. When we find good information on the case - ya know, assuming we find it before anyone else- we'll get a payout that'll more than cover any expenses."

Nils nods. "Ah, yes, of course. Quite so." Having only recently become acquainted with the idea of earning currency via employment, he assumes this must be a fairly standard arrangement. Or at least not so non-standard that the others in the group had any concerns. There is a beat in the conversation as Nils looks out the window, before turning back to Ceph. "So, have you been on many other trains? I've not - in fact this is my first one - but I once saw a N8170 Locomotive pulling a group of TransStar 11 freight cars, which as I'm sure you're already thinking is ironic because......"

The core's rail nexus is a sprawling tower of multiple levels, servicing lines to all six piers. What passes for 'night-life' on a station with no external day-night cycle is starting to find its rhythm, and the steady pulsing of synthetic beat can be heard pulsing from several directions. The crowds, while still busy, are shifting from commuters to party-goers. The air is warm with body heat, offset by the constant efforts of a climatisation system pushed to its limits. Those used to cooler worlds quickly find a shimmer of perspiration upon their brow.

Derrab hated crowds. Navigating the headache of the station's ticketing system was easy for a native, but the mouth-breathers and rubber-neckers made his skin crawl. His first thought was shouting a shoving, but without long-lost appearance it wouldn't do much but start a fight. His next was a subconscious twitch in which the thought was more keeping his hands away from the inside of his coat. Finally, his mind settled on the prize at the end of the railway: a happy little storefront that peddled minor conveniences and comforts. Someone made mention of work needing to be done somewhere in the background noise. Some extra income would be nice, and the kid-boss usually didn't mind a bit of freelancing so long as the main job wasn't affected. Might be worth it, maybe some excitement for once.

The storefront proudly declares 'Carl's Captivating Curios - No Contraband' and is manned by a beaming Sullustan who rubs his hands together and immediately makes eye contact with Derrab when he approaches. "Hello sir! Hello sir!" It chatters in heavily accented basic. "What can I get for you today?" The shop's shelves are piled with gadgets and gizmos to the point that the junk is teetering on the edges, about to fall to the floor.

"Need a drink, need some directions." Derrab hopes more for the former than the latter.

"Right away, sir, right away!" The Sullustan declares, reaching under the counter and firing up a machine atop it that is all tubes and whirrs incessantly. "What'll it be and where to?"

"Uh..." Derrab was ready for questioning, but hadn't a clue what questions needed answering, "Let's start with that drink. Rails don't sit well with me, you know? Hmmm....ever hear of a pan galactic gargle blaster?" 

The Sullustan hesitates for a moment before rapidly pressing buttons on the side of the machine. "If you're sure, sir," he says and the device begins to rattle and shake violently. After a few seconds there is a resounding BING , and a little flap opens on the side to reveal a fluorescent green drink in a cocktail glass with a lemon garnish.

Leb, with the hood over her head, stays in a second place. She was a little bit surprised by the stares at the train and doesn't want to attract more attention. 

“Make that two.” Ceph says as his eyes go wide looking at the exotic cocktail. “And to be straight with you, we’re private investigators looking for a missing person. We’ve narrowed down an area where they could be.” Ceph shows the man the area on his datapad. “Any bells ringing? Empty warehouses? Vacant residentials? Seedy cantinas?”

Sovia stays back with Leb and mumbles "What are we doing in this place? I thought we were looking for something else that would have received the signal?" 

Nils nods in agreement. He'd initially been curious to see the inside of the establishment, as the name had sounded promisingly like somewhere that might trade in electronic goods, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it was merely some sort of themed drinks vendor. Honestly, how often do these organics need to ingest sustenance? He considers sitting down and joining in the conversation, but that might require pretending to drink again. Instead he steps back out into the street and looks to see if there is anywhere that may be of more interest to him.

Sovia follows Nils from the building, glad to be outside of the rather claustrophobic environment, though the street outside was not much better. "Perhaps we could look for some more evidence whilst they question the locals?" Sovia touches his elbow lightly as she catches back up with him outside. Mostly she was curious of him, still unsure as to why she had failed to feel his emotions earlier; though now, overwhelmed by the volume of base instincts in a way it was soothing to have somebody not intruding on her consciousness. It made it easier to look at him without recoiling.  "I don't know how things are now, but all those years ago when I walked in cities, they had shops that dealt in datapads and the like. They would usually have test models running all day that people could pick up and try. If the signal was broadcast to everywhere in the city, that too would have picked it up and perhaps you could use it as a third point to triangulate the source?"

The machine is soon chugging again as the Sullustan produces Ceph his drink. "That'll be one-half credit," he tells them both, cheerfully, before peering at Ceph's datapad. "Lots of control authorities in these parts," he mumbles running his eyes up and down the line they're searching along. "This is an employee parking garage though," the Sullust explains, pointing at a square tower of sorts. "Easy place to hide out. Does that help?"

Nils thinks for a second, wondering if he ought to be being more careful around Sovia. If anyone was likely to discover his identity, it would be a force-user. But she hadn't seemed particularly hostile so far - quite the opposite - and hadn't probed too deeply about his apparent lack of force-connection. "Sure. Worth trying, sounds like a plan. Do you think there's a map of this place somewhere? If not I suppose we can just ask someone for directions..." He picks the direction that looks the most likely to lead somewhere upmarket and starts walking. "How does this place compare to the cities you used to walk in? Where was that? What were they like?" , he asks conversationally.

Sovia shrugs. "I walked many worlds. Dantoine, Taris, Malachor, so many worlds with so much variety. Some were like this, stations really orbiting a planet, others had proper open streets, grass, sand, dirt. Some were busy, some less so. Hives of activity or quiet wastelands. That was before the fall and Revan." She hesitates a little before continuing.  " It was so long ago I suppose it doesn't matter, nobody will even remember. After the fall of Revan things changed, I spent some time on Korriban, and a lot of time in space ports. That was a different experience, many people wanted you dead, there was no real social contact, just business. I was happy to have direction for a while, but it was no more right than the Jedi sitting idly by, so I left. After that I spent all my time in the wilderness, Kashyyk, Endor, Tattoine , places you didn't have to see a person for years if you didn't want to." She smiles, clearly missing the isolation in some ways. "Where are you from? You seem like the travelling type..."

"Me too " replies to Sovia when she express her concerns to her "Maybe this is a lead towards it."  Leb, noticing Sovia and Nils going out puts a hand in Ceph's shoulder and whispers "We should go..."  she tries to keep an eye on their companions, if they get lost in the station it could be difficult to reconnect the group.

"No, not at all! Not until just the other day! In fact this is my first time travelling anywhere! I was a... a sort of administrator? Doing a really boring job! For most of my life! Can you imagine? So I quit! And left! Just a few days ago! And now I'm here, with explosions and Jedi and mysterious people in hoods! I'm sure this is probably very mundane for someone who's been around as long as you, but this is all very exciting to me! And hey, maybe I'll get a chance to see those worlds now too... Which one was the best?"

“Worth a shot! Thank you.” Ceph pays the man three credits for the drink and the tip, and nods to Lebenha. “Definitely, we’ve got a solid place to start now. Hey guys!” He calls out to Nils and Sovia beginning to wander off. “We’ve got a lead. Well not a lead, but a start.” There’s a new surge of optimism in his voice as he leads his companions to the indicated garage.

Surprised, Nils turns around when he hears Ceph's shouting. "Hm, I thought it would take them much longer than that to finish their drinks. Maybe they just downed them? Ah well, we may as well go with them, we might spot an appropriate shop we can stop at on the way."

As Nils and Sovia follow the rest of the group along the streets of the core, Sovia notices a large glass storefront with a motif of a bitten pear emblazoned above it. The inside is brightly lit and displaying many different models of sleek, modern datapads and other devices. The customers are predominantly young and dressed in the styles of the latest fashions.