The party is forced to remain onboard while the local authorities deal with an incident in the hanger. All ship occupants are requested to stay on board.

Whatever happened here is over.
And it’s clear these two are at the heart of it.

Two humanoid figures, a ysoki and a badly injured Kasatha can be seen talking to Steward Guards.

The party steps off the ship and approaches carefully. The moment hangs—tense, uncertain—before Drode breaks it completely.

Introductions, immediate and unfiltered.

Drode leans toward the kasatha—Zen-Dal—clearly recognizing strength when he sees it. Names are exchanged. Paul-Paul Atreides introduces himself with practiced confidence, and, by extension, Zen-Dal.

The story comes out in fragments.

A job. A dwarf—Duravor Kreel. A meeting that never happens. A firefight that absolutely does. Zen-Dal nearly dies.

Paul-Paul… does not.

Zen explains why, plainly: Paul spent most of the battle completing the appropriate legal documentation required to engage in armed civilian response.

There’s a pause.

Dwelly steps in smoothly, taking control of the conversation before it can collapse under its own absurdity. He explains their group, their purpose—

—and then the ship.

The Astral Express.

It travels by destiny.

It chooses its path.

Korsavox, nominally the pilot, does not actually know how to fly it.

There are looks.

Many looks.

Zen-Dal processes this silently.

Paul-Paul does not dispute it.

Instead, he seems… intrigued.

Zen’s attention shifts as he notices Tovak—another kasatha. There’s immediate recognition there, a shared understanding. A brief exchange follows: solarian and technomancer, two different paths, same origin.

Meanwhile, Stewards move through the area. Zen receives medical attention, stabilizing him after the brutal hit he took earlier.

Paul, however, has priorities.

Paperwork.

The rest of the party, now effectively grounded on the station, decides to accompany the two newcomers—if nothing else, to see this through and collect what’s owed.

Paul pays without hesitation. Ten credits. Logged, no doubt.

Inside, he takes the lead.

At the front desk, a lashunta officer receives him. Paul presents everything—forms completed, documentation filed, timeline established. Every detail accounted for.

Form P-AS-0801: processed.

The result is swift.

Payment authorized.

2,000 credits total.

Paul and Zen step back outside, rejoining the others. There’s a moment—what now?

Exploration wins.

Inside, a shirren greets them warmly, offering refreshments before introducing themself:

A shirren greets the party as they enter, 
offering any beverages or meal supplements.

The shirren introduces it's self as Chiskisk, a council member for the Starfinder Society.

They report Kreel’s death.

Chiskisk listens carefully, antennae shifting with thought. Then comes the ask—investigate further. Find clarity. Payment offered to all if they can uncover what happened and why.

The party agrees.

Back to the precinct.

This time, with purpose.

Granted access through their association with the Starfinder Society, they split their efforts. Paul-Paul, Tovak, and Dwelly dive into records, databases, anything with a paper trail. Zen-Dal takes a different approach—conversation, instinct, reading people instead of reports.

Piece by piece, a picture forms.

Two gangs.

The Level 21 Crew—operating in the lower decks. Rough, but tolerated. They protect local businesses—for a price. Sometimes they pick sides when those businesses compete. Their leader: a ysoki named Jabaxa. Recently hired by a group called the Hard Scrabble Collective.

Opposing them: the Downside Kings.

Brutal. Expansive. Controlling multiple decks—levels 36 through 39. Their influence runs deep: trafficking, organized crime, systemic control. Their leader: a human named Ferrenie Nadaz. Their headquarters? A high-end brothel known as the Fusion Queen.

From Zen’s side, more context:

The Hard Scrabble Collective—asteroid miners from the Diaspora. Not openly criminal, but deeply comfortable operating in gray areas—smuggling, questionable trade routes, quiet deals. Their operations connect directly to Level 21.

Territory lines are drawn.

Tensions make sense.

The firefight wasn’t random.

The group regathers.

They decide to rest before moving forward. The Astral Express becomes home for the night, and for Paul-Paul and Zen-Dal...an introduction.

Rested and refocused, they descend to Level 21.

A massive industrial elevator carries them down—large enough for vehicles, echoing with heavy use. The air changes as they descend. Cleaner above. Grittier below.

By the time the doors open, the difference is undeniable.

This level is worn. Watched. Alive in a different way.

Drode takes point as they move through the streets. Tension rides with them.

Tovak deploys his orb—sending it ahead to scout the warehouse tied to the Hard Scrabble Collective.