Each of you, by one means or another, made your own way to bustling Absalom Station. From there, you boarded a small vessel called the Jumping Jack - a name that no doubt references the ship's unusual three-engine design.

The Jack's pilot, a member of the insectoid shirren race, jovially introduces herself as Jill, without any apparent irony. She explains that she has been hired by Paradise Resorts as a VIP shuttle service, and that the flight to New Elysium should be short, quiet, and uneventful - although the more perceptive of you may notice her crossing the fingers of one of her lower manipulators as she says that.

In any case, once you and your possessions are safely aboard, the Jack departs Absalom Station. The trip is expected to last a few hours, leaving the four of you with little to do except enjoy the paltry comforts of the small ship's lounge, and perhaps get to know each other.

At least there is a self serve bar, although the drinks are bottom shelf and probably overpriced.
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:39, Sat 27 Feb 2021.

The grim faced lashunta nods as he listens to the pilot, his dimly glowing, red eyes fixed on her, his antenna twitching slightly as he notices her crossed fingers. Blue-kissed scars run the length of his grey skin, a topography laid out in violence. His black hair is a loose waterfall of ink falling to the small of his back. The black and gray combat armor he wears does not look suited to a gala opening, nor does the heavy blaster and exotic sword gracing his hips.

After departure, he heads for the bar and orders something from the bottom shelf. He sips his drink broodily, staring out the window at the cosmos with the bitter countenance of one whose business is yet unfinished.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:08, Fri 26 Feb 2021.

Alezandaru can’t help but to stifle a chuckle at the pilot’s uneventful and unconvincing assurance. He turns his nut brown gaze to the bar “Indulge in the finest food from across the galaxy and so much more” He quotes the invitation. “I do hope they have a better selection once we arrive.” He pours a whiskey neat and leans against the bar casually.

Wearing his typical traveling gear of long coat, gloves, and goggles. All matching his short nut brown hair aesthetic. Aware he looks more crew than VIP. He raises his glass and addresses the room “To a much needed vacation!” Taking a large swallow he smiles intent on enjoying the ride.

     From behind a vesk strides forward.  She is dressed in an elaborate military uniform, with large tassels draped across her chest and shoulders.  Beautiful weapons rest at her side: an engraved, shining bronze axe, and on her other hip the intricate golden hilt of a sword.  Glowing golden bands encircle her tail like bracelets.  As she moves past, you notice 6 silver rings pierce her upper lip and when she moves her brilliant scales shift from green to blue and every color in between.

     Gracefully, she glides from the pilot to the ship entrance to the interior.  She glances at the other passengers, offering each a polite nod.  In the ship, she sniffs at the repast, and then passes it by, finding instead, a particularly reflective window, in which she studies herself and scrutinizers her outfit, adjusting the positioning of the axe at her side, pulling her coat tight to her form.

Fortunately the rest of the travelers didn't have to wait long for Riddle to finally make it to the shuttle. Unfortunately, she was hyped up from one too many cappuccinos and couldn't seem to slow down or stop talking. She stopped when Jill addressed her, and almost immediately started asking questions about her shuttle when she finished.

"Is this a GXH Turbine PlasCore shuttle? I've only seen some of the later 'modules in 'the yard, GN2 failures usually. Technical, Main Engine GN2 purge header temperature sensor failed in GSE sub-lines, and only a small percentage of them had critical failure while in transit. I heard from Rook, cute scaler by-the-by, great with mainframe codin' and repair, someone 'Frankenstein a' engine for a' race in the Belt. Blew a' crater the track when it overheat and cooked the line to-"

While talking, she quickly put her immediate things away and retrieved a nutrition bar and an old leather bookbag, quickly taking bites between gaps in her speech and slinging the bag over her small-framed shoulder. When she realized she was in the lounge, she paused for the first time. With food still in her mouth, she almost looked surprised, then said
"Hi y'all! I'm Coponisa! But y'all can shout Riddle if ya have a need to call on me!"

Her eyes showed a sparkling blue curiosity to her newly found companions for the journey.

Borais looks Riddle up and down, gives a nod in greeting, then returns to his drink.

"Copon~ Riddle.  A pleasure to meet you." says the vesk.  "I'm Tytva.  A pleasure to meet you all.  Im currently on a diplomatic cultural exchange mission from the Vesk empire.  I will be performing a traditional Vesk opera for the grand re-opening of the New Elysium.  I hope to see you all there." she says sweetly.

Alezandaru smiled at the talkative Riddle and gave a quick nod. He sips at his whiskey as Tytva introduces herself “Cultural exchange eh? You’ll be preforming at the gala? I look forward to it.”

"Why, yes.  Its is my duty and my joy to spread the glory and beauty that is Vesk opera.  I look forward to sharing with you it's tales of mighty heroes, their legendary victories and legendary defeats as well as epic romances and epic heartbreaks."  This last she adds with emphasis to Riddle, with a smile that might pass for mischeviousness in Vesk culture.  "But I do go on.  What brings you all to the grand re-opening?" she says diplomatically to the room.

The mention of opera seems to catch Borais' attention--he looks sharply at Tytva, at least, though he doesn't say anything. At her question, he raises his eyebrow and looks around the room with narrow eyes, as if he too is interested in the answer, though he seems either disinclined to answer himself or unaware that he is expected to.

Riddle quickly nodded, then paused to listen to Tytva and Alezandaru. Her ear might have seemed to twitch at 'heartbreak', as if subconsciously picking up on an unknown clue. But Riddle didn't seem to catch it.
"Ooooooh, I don't think I've ever heard of a Veskarium opera before! I've heard all kinds of stories about fighting prowess and immediate efficiency, but not opera! I'll be there!"

She climbed onto a stool at the bar and said "Blue Dolphin please" to the barkeep, then turned so she could still see everyone in the room.
"Re-opening? I didn't hear nothing 'bout that. I thought it had been open for a while now. Sum' happen?"

"Oh.  Well, I suppose your right," says Tytva thoughtfully.  "I don't know.  Perhaps it was merely called 'The Elysium' before," Tytva softly trills with laughter at her own joke.  "My agent said it was a - how do you say it - 'big deal' in this system."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:30, Wed 03 Mar 2021.

The intercom crackles, and then comes alive with a synthetic simulation of Jill's telepathic "voice".

"Pardon me folks, don't mean to interrupt your party, but we've got a bit of a developing situation here. We're still about an hour out from the resort and my sensors have picked up another ship on the same flight path - more guests, I presume. Trouble is, that ship is having some engine trouble, and has attracted the attention of some... less savory types that frequent this system."

A pause.

"Now, normally I wouldn't hesitate in swooping in there to blow those black-marked pirates and their junk-heap ships into so many new meteorites for the Diaspora." The synthetic voice can't simulate emotion, and yet somehow the anger is clear.  "Unfortunately, my contract with Paradise Resorts is pretty clear that I'm not to endanger the lives of any VIP passengers aboard my ship. ...Not without their say-so anyway. So..."

There is a brief moment of hesitation, and then, "...how do you all want to play this?"

Borais' grip tightens on his glass. "To leave the innocent stranded with the scum of space bearing down on them...." He sneers and knock backs the rest of his drink. "I cannot abide that."

Alezandaru stiffened at the mention of pirates. Not really preferring a fight he sighed and finished his drink. “I’m not really fond of a fight. At the very least they need back up. Perhaps there is a way to back them without loss of life?”