The Diaspora – Star-Eater’s Spine
The dark and oppressive tunnel below the asteroid’s surface gave way to a severe airlock chamber crafted of metal and concrete past an open outer door. A wide sliding door stood closed in the far wall of the room, rust dappling its edges like rotten lace. A single light above the doorway flickered weakly.
As the crew approached, spores burst forth from vents on either side of the door, bypassing their armors’ environmental protections. Kima and Galakrond resisted the effects of the magical spores, but Glitch and Kusanagi found their thoughts sluggish. As such, it took the crew some time to cycle the airlock and get through the inner door.
Riveted walls of steel around the airlock hatch extended into a cavernous gloom. At the chamber’s center stood a wide computer console that practically stretched to the ceiling. Rows of grimy buttons framed its blank display screen, from which emanated the faintest of glows. They spent some time failing to hack this computer before it occurred to them that any information about where the cultists went and what exactly they might have learned on Castrovel would be located in a larger computer system.
Past the operations terminal, half a dozen tiered pillars were interspersed throughout a wide hallway, which ended in a concave wall made of plated steel. A strange pile of body parts and viscera lay next to the easternmost pillar, and the faint scent of ozone hung in the air. The mass of gore appeared to be the remains of some manner of undead humanoid. It was difficult to discern the exact features, however, because the corpse had been cut into little chunks. Galakrond sifted through the pile of gore and found a patch stitched with the insignia of the Corpse Fleet, the exiled remnant of the Eoxian Navy. It seemed that the undead rebels had preceded the crew in infiltrating the Star-Eater’s Spine.
Glitch hung back while the other three advanced down the hallway. About the time they reached the center, a latticed wall of laser beams stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall separated those in the hall from their ysoki companion. Then the wall moved rapidly to the west and the trio of Starfinders scrambled to evade.
Galakrond and Kusanagi rushed back out before laser wall came back east, but Kima was too slow. He was burned by the beams and found himself cut off again. Instead of facing the murderous lasers again, he made for the doors to the north of the hall and burst through them into another darkened hall. The lasers persisted until Glitch and Kusanagi managed to finally hack the terminal and shut it down. All agreed that they should take a few minutes to rest before continuing.
When they did, they found a cloying gloom filled the long, claustrophobic hallway where Kima had sought refuge. A red light on the western wall blinked slowly, giving the scene a sinister atmosphere. Several closed doors on the north wall opened into a series of connected living quarters. In each, minimalist sleeping pallets lay on the severe metal floor, and simple shelves and dressers served as furniture.
In a locked dresser, they found a pair of injection gloves and 2 doses of a substance labeled “insanity mist.” They also found a security key card, that Glitch mentioned would have been helpful when dealing with the operations terminal. The easternmost of the rooms opened up into an armory. Three largely empty rows of shelves lined the northeastern side of the wide room. Here and there, a drooping suit of armor hung from its rack. A pair of patrol-class security robots activated as the Starfinders entered the chamber, but they were swiftly overcome. They left several suits of broken armor where they lie, planning to pick them up on their way out of the base.
Back to the west, they came to an area divided into two wings. The eastern side was filled with round metal tables and chairs, while the western chamber contained several pantry shelves as well as four flat, utilitarian stove units with attached faucets. The pantry shelves mostly held dry and preserved foods. The nature of the supplies here was odd, with extremely spicy options mixed with bizarre strains of fruit and vegetable preserves. They continued through an exit to the south.
Looming over the west side of the sterile room beyond were floor-to-ceiling computer consoles that swallowed the entire wall with dizzying displays of darkened screens, inset buttons, levers, and switches. A squat, bony, reptilian creature was slumped over in a congealed puddle of blood in front of the consoles. Another, more lively specimen lifted its head and barked in challenge as smoke billowed from its eye sockets.
The alien lizard barely got a single tooth into anyone before it was put down. The crew considered the large computer momentarily, but then decided to see if they could find any other items in the base to help them bypass its security measures. They headed out the southern exit into another mess hall.
The kitchen and dining area they found seemed as if they had been abandoned in the middle of a meal’s preparation. Pots of meat slurry and festering dairy sat on the stoves to the west, and metal cups full of some sludgy, long-turned beverage sat on the tables to the east. Tiny flies buzzed about the entire scene, flitting from place to place among the rotten smorgasbord. Glitch was sickened by the stench, and the crew swiftly moved on.
They found additional living quarters and searched them, finding a datapad and a credstick containing over a thousand credits. East of the southern set of barracks they found an arsenal similar in design to the armory on the north side.
Three rows of mostly bare shelves stood along the southeastern end of the wide room. Here and there, a dilapidated pistol or longarm sat on a dusty shelf. Three humanoid robots stood near the north wall; each was hunched over and covered in scorch marks, occasionally emitting puffs of sickly gray smoke. It appeared that the constructs had been taken down with laser fire, sometime within the past week. They bagged a number for broken guns and returned to the datacore.
The massive computer had a voiceprint password, so Glitch turned his attention to the datapad they’d found in the living quarters, hoping to find an audio file they could use. Among the mundane data files, electronic messages, gaming applications, and other files on the datapad was a single video file labeled “Do Not Delete.” In the video, a verthani and a gnome were sitting cross-legged on the floor inside one of the base’s living quarters. Both were dressed in robes and wearing unholy symbols of the Devourer, and the verthani is teaching the gnome to sing a paean to the Devourer. Throughout the song, both cultists repeat the phrase “Nyara knows!” over and over.
This phrase triggered something in the mainframe, and the Starfinders were able to access the datacore. There were three data modules of interest, labeled “Activities,” “Intelligence,” and “Sacred Lore.” They accessed the Activities module first, since Intelligence and Sacred Lore were protected by security countermeasures.
The Activities module stated the mission of this sect of the Cult of the Devourer in no uncertain terms. The denizens of the Star-Eater’s Spine were devoted to poring through the prophecies in a sacred but cryptic tome called The Entropy of Existence and Glorious Rise of the Void. The data contained the cult’s analysis of some of these divinations, including one prophecy flagged as high-priority. A link pointed to the location of this high-priority prophecy in the secure Sacred Lore module.
The cultists had focused on this one prophecy in particular because they thought it the most likely candidate for them to bring to fruition. From the data, it appeared the cultists interpreted the prophecy as referring to some sort of weapon – one powerful enough to serve as a “key” to untold destruction – but they had deciphered little else. In addition to the cultists’ obsessive work to understand more of this prophecy’s latent instructions, the module details the terrible, ritualistic tortures the cult enacted to try to pull further clues from those lines.
Following the breadcrumbs, the crew accessed the Sacred Lore module. It contained reams of information about the cult’s profane belief in the Devourer, the assured entropy of the universe, and the cultists’ unholy roles in bringing about the end of existence for the glory of their dark religion. In addition to general religious dogma and near-mad ramblings, the data module also detailed the Star-Eater’s Spine cult’s fascination with an ancient elven soothsayer named Nyara, outlining her history.
Centuries ago, an evil and malicious elven mystic named Nyara had lived a depraved existence on Castrovel. At the time, the Cult of the Devourer was merely a shadow of a threat to the civilized species of the galaxy, but Nyara discovered in the dogma of the Star-Eater the nihilistic ambition for which she later became known. Nyara fed off the pain and suffering of those weaker than her, and she slaughtered hundreds and quickly rose through the ranks of Castrovel’s Star-Eater cult. As the number of atrocities she committed in the Devourer’s name mounted, Nyara came to believe that her uncaring patron would visit a terrible fate on her soul should she not work to further the total destruction of existence that the Devourer so coveted.
Committing herself fully to the Devourer’s entropic cause, Nyara began a career in dark soothsaying. Her killings became ritualistic rather than indiscriminate, and she drew prophecies from the very blood of her victims. Nyara spent her long elven life span extracting the terrible secrets underlying creation and extrapolating innumerable doomsday futures. Before her death, Nyara recorded her most profane divinations in her magnum opus, a tome called The Entropy of Existence and Glorious Rise of the Void. This work, though obscure to the galaxy at large, is considered a key unholy text to many Devourer cults. Its dark prophecies span countless realities, including dozens of ways that the multiverse and all its planes of existence might someday come to an end.
The data includes a computer-generated hologram of Nyara recounting some of her most enigmatic prognostications, as recorded in her most infamous book. One of these predictions is flagged as high-priority; they accessed the prediction, and a hologram of Nyara recited, “In the maw of the Twelve lies the Key. Forsooth, shall all be undone. When the knee meets the gorge, so far. The widening gyre implodes – magnificently.”
Finally, the crew accessed the Intelligence data module, which contained records of all of the communications between the Star-Eater’s Spine and the Devourer cult on Castrovel. Although it appeared that the cultists had tried to erase this data before they deserted the base, the Starfinders were able to recover most of the communication logs for the base’s comm unit. These captioned recordings document the Castrovelian cult leader Tahomen’s boastful crowing about his cult’s activities at the Temple of the Twelve, including a premature claim of the cult’s humiliating defeat of the crew.
The last communication log took on a triumphantly gleeful tone. In it, Tahomen reported that information in the temple’s inner sanctum had revealed the location of the “key” emphasized in Nyara’s prophecy. In the final line of the recording, Tahomen jubilantly stated, “Our future awaits, far beyond the confines of the Star-Eater’s Spine! You must fly, my sisters and brothers! Fly to (garbled static), where the Key awaits…” The recording then ended. The Starfinders sighed heavily.
It was obvious that the name of the location the cultists fled to had deliberately been deleted and then meticulously scrubbed from the system. The electronic signature of the hacker who performed these tasks was unlike any of the digital footprints left in either the datacore or the computer terminal near the entrance. However, there were clear signs that the data was deleted just a few days before – sometime after the cultists had abandoned the Star-Eater’s Spine, given physical clues left behind at the base, such as the state of the mess hall.
The evidence suggested that the Corpse Fleet was aware of the Stellar Degenerator and were investigating what the Cult of the Devourer had discovered, as well. Having exhausted all of the leads in the base, they collected the loot they’d found and returned to the Sunrise Maiden.
They had barely left the surface of Asteroid K9204 when a pair of Death’s Head Necrogliders showed up on their scanners, with weapons hot. The tiny interceptors were nothing like a match for the upgraded Starfinder ship, and they were disabled in short order. The crew managed to wrangle the bone trooper pilots on board their ship and question them. The prisoners denied their membership in the Corpse Fleet, though their uniforms and the markings on their ships belied the claim.
When coerced, the pilots confirmed that the Corpse Fleet did visit the Star-Eater’s Spine and that they had been ordered to attack anyone leaving the base. Neither pilot had any knowledge of the Corpse Fleet’s goals in investigating the cult base, and they didn’t know the ultimate destination of either the Corpse Fleet or the Cult of the Devourer. The crew left the Corpse Fleet pilots in their disabled ships, then placed a call to Captain Alera Okwana with a tip about easy salvage, then returned to the Drift beacon to report back to Absalom Station.
About eight hours later, they received a pre-recorded reply.
“Greetings, my friends. It is a grave matter, indeed, that the Corpse Fleet seems so intent on keeping you from following the Cult of the Devourer’s trail, even to the point of attempting to eliminate you,” Chiskisk began, their antennae folded pensively. “I presume that means they are now searching for the Stellar Degenerator as well. The Corpse Fleet is not to be trifled with, and its schemes perpetually frustrate the Eoxians here on Absalom Station. The Eoxian delegation diligently reports the efforts their planet undertakes to curb the Corpse Fleet’s activities, but they never seem to make a dent in the threat.
“Given your run-ins with the Corpse Fleet of late, I have kept my antennae in the air. My contacts in the Eoxian embassy here on the station have worked with a bureaucrat and historian in Eox’s Ministry of Eternal Vigilance named Waneda Trux. She is posted in the city of Orphys and handles reports about Corpse Fleet activity on Eox. According to my contacts, Ms. Trux recently received some indications that the fleet’s agents are up to something – perhaps recruiting for a big mission or gathering resources. It’s unclear. But following any leads that Ms. Trux has gathered could very well reveal the Corpse Fleet’s plots for the Stellar Degenerator and, if we are lucky, the coordinates where the cultists from the Star-Eater’s Spine fled to.
“Waneda Trux’s office is located in a district of Orphys called the Splice. I have informed her that you will be arriving soon. I will not misrepresent Eox – it is a dead world, and it will not be comfortable, even for representatives of the Starfinder Society on official business. But Eox is a member of the Pact Worlds, so one can expect a certain amount of civilization.”
Chiskisk cleared their throat with a metallic rasp and continued. “I am sure I do not need to remind you, but this mission is of the utmost priority. You must meet Waneda Trux and find the location of this Stellar Degenerator. You must keep it out of the hands of the Corpse Fleet and the Cult of the Devourer. Everything could be at stake. End transmission.”
In addition to the message, the crew found 2,500 credits had been deposited in each of their accounts for their ongoing efforts in the investigation. With direction from their leadership, the Starfinders set a course through the Drift to Eox.
Eox was a dead world, with no seas or oceans, and what was left of its thin atmosphere was toxic, radioactive, both, or worse. As the Sunrise Maiden approached the planet, the crew was contacted by Eoxian Space Defense officials on the ancient orbital defense platform called the Sentinel, who requested identification and their destination. Fortunately, Orphys had its own small spaceport, so the crew was directed there. Once they passed through customs and immigration under the watchful eye sockets of undead officials, they were free to enter the city. They made their way straight to the Ministry of Eternal Vigilance in the Splice.
Orphys was one of Eox’s great necropolises, but the Splice was one of the city’s most unappealing districts. Largely industrial and utilitarian, the Splice was home to several necrograft factories, which lay the unpleasant reality of this technology’s fabrication bare. These factories were large, dirty, and unsightly. Most of the fusion of undead flesh and technology required to create necrografts took place inside the factories, but other rather morbid processes also happened on these facilities’ open-air grounds. This included the cultivation of massive amounts of vat-grown, genetically synthesized living flesh as well as the transportation of this unpleasant crop via flesh elevators up into the factories.
Beyond the necrograft factories, the Splice was also home to rows of slum-like abodes where some of Orphys’s poorest and politically disfavored citizens lived, including those few living species who have agreed to work for the Eoxians – often in the nearby necrograft factories – in exchange for the gift of undeath once their mortal forms have weakened. Of course, where there was a population, there were also businesses to serve the residents, and the Splice was no different. However, local law enforcement rarely turned its attention toward the hardscrabble district, so many of the Splice’s business proprietors were known to be shady, even by Eoxian standards. Visitors were uncommon in the Splice, and amenities for the living were scarce enough to be nearly nonexistent.
The Ministry of Eternal Vigilance sat on Carpalspur Street, nestled between necrograft factories and shops. Compared with other government buildings elsewhere in Orphys, the ministry was remote, run down, and politically ignored for the most part. The crew came to a wide, two-story building of black and rust-dappled gray that stood out from the other dilapidated structures on the densely packed block. A holographic banner above the sliding double entryway displayed the words “Ministry of Eternal Vigilance” in Common and Eoxian. A smaller sign on the front doors declared that the office was open for at least 12 hours every Pact Standard day, even if the stench from the nearby necrograft factory and the building’s lack of windows and architectural accouterments were less than inviting.
The ministry’s ground floor contained a large waiting room with rows of rusty and, in some cases, lopsided hover chairs. A tall, boxy machine in a corner dispensed numbered tokens. Beside the machine, projected in a hologram on the wall, were instructions for reporting Corpse Fleet activity to the ministry. A wide front desk with a teller-like window faced the lobby at one end, with a holographic numerical display. Behind the front desk, stairs led to the second floor, though they were roped off with industrial-grade silver tape labeled “No Public Access.”
There were only two people present on the Ministry’s first story: a shabby human man sitting in the lobby, and a female ghoul sitting behind the front desk, absently entering information from an enormous stack of papers into a computer terminal sitting on the desk. According to the holographic instructions in the lobby, visitors should take a numbered token from the machine in the corner and have a seat. When their number was called, they should check in at the front desk, where a ministry official would assist them. The crew took a few numbers then had a seat next to the man waiting to file his report.
While they waited, they engaged the human man in conversation. His name was Shan Goulding, and he was a worker in the Fleshworn Fabrications necrograft factory as a line inspector, examining cured pieces of vat-grown flesh to ensure that they fit the specific sizes and shapes needed for creating ocular necrografts. He was hired by a bone sage who was partial owner of the factory; once Shan completed 3 more Eoxian years (15 Pact Standard years) of service, the bone sage had promised him the gift of immortality as an undead ghoul. Shan was locked in a bitter feud with a half-elf line inspector named Frenzel, and he admitted that he was planning to report his rival for secretly being a Corpse Fleet agent.
It was pretty clear that the half-elf was not, in fact, Corpse Fleet, but Kusanagi thought he might be able to commiserate with Shan to get a bit more information out of him. The man revealed that a flesh brewer at the factory, a corpsefolk – an undead zombie that retained its intelligence and personality – named Voxel also hated Frenzel. Shan further explains that, if they ever needed anything from the factory, they should talk to Voxel and tell him Shan sent them.
Several more minutes passed in silence as the ghoul at the front desk continued doing whatever it was that didn’t involve tending to those in the waiting room. Eventually, Kima lost patience and approached the desk to speak with the undead woman. She only pointed at the instructions without looking up at him until he mentioned that Chiskisk had sent them.
“Ah. The Starfinders. The bug sent you, huh? You know the stuff people report to me is mostly garbage, right? Petty, stupid complaints about the neighbors or outright lies about rivals and enemies, and none of ’em have nothing to do with the Corpse Fleet.
“Still, once in a thousand moons, we actually get a legitimate lead or two. When that happens, I forward the reports to the government, who passes them on to the authorities and the Pact Council and
all the Pact Worlds, or so I’m told. This time, I’m giving ’em to you too. You want to use ’em to go after the Corpse Fleet, be my guest. Literally, since I was instructed to set aside a room upstairs for you. It’s yours for as long as you’re here, as an office and as a bedroom, since you lot still need sleep, I guess. But don’t rush your business on my behalf; I just love strangers – especially living ones I can’t eat – staying in my office, particularly when my boss is pretty much forcing me to play host.” Waneda smiled disagreeably, revealing sharp, scraggly teeth and a long, curling tongue.
“I’ve got two reports that came in during the last week,” Waneda explained. “They’re the only ones with any merit at all recently, to be honest with you. The authorities might get to investigating ’em soon, but I’m willing to bet your business is more urgent.”
Report Filed By Voxel Darksend; Necrotype/Species Corpsefolk (elebrian)
Address 43 Sethrot Commons, Upper Vamsbank, Orphys
Occupation Flesh brewer; Employer Fleshworn Fabrications
Available for Follow-Up Interview? Yes (at work only)
Filing Date 4 Kuthona 317 ag
Recorded By Waneda Trux, Director
Incident of Suspected Corpse Fleet Activity “Sometime between the hours of 11:30 and 13:00 yesterday (3 Kuthona), an entire vat of flesh disappeared from FWF’s flesh yards. Upon discovering the flesh was missing, I found a badge with the Corpse Fleet’s insignia next to the empty vat. I also recorded a digital photo of the badge’s location. It seems pretty obvious to me that the Corpse Fleet stole the vat flesh for some unknown purpose.”
Report Filed By Gretal Rapinder; Necrotype/Species Bone trooper (elebrian)
Address 5236 Bareknuckle Way, Splice, Orphys
Occupation Navy trooper (retired); Employer 5th Squadron, Eoxian Navy
Available for Follow-Up Interview? Yes
Filing Date 6 Kuthona 317 ag
Recorded By Waneda Trux, Director
Incident of Suspected Corpse Fleet Activity “On or around 00:00 on 4 Kuthona, my flatmate, Harvinne Nessex (also a 5th Squadron veteran), left our residence, saying she needed to purchase new outerwear – a curious task, especially considering the late hour. In any case, she never returned to the flat. This morning (6 Kuthona), I entered her quarters and discovered that most of her belongings were gone, but I found a scrap of paper on the floor that looks like it fell out of her journal (Harvinne keeps a real paper diary that she actually writes in with a stylus). On this scrap, Harvinne wrote about her disillusionment with current Eoxian policy and her intention to join a contingent of the Corpse Fleet that is currently operating in Orphys. I believe that Harvinne has left the Splice to enlist in the Corpse Fleet.”
After the crew had reviewed the reports, Waneda said, “You should probably look into both of these as soon as you can. The flesh brewer works at Fleshworn Fabrications. He said to ask for him at the factory’s back gates, which are right across the street from the ministry. That delightful stench you smell is from the flesh vats in the factory yard. I suppose you don’t like it much but it just makes me hungry. The retired trooper lives down the way. She’s retired, so she should be available whenever – what else is she going to do? Oh, and there’s one more thing before you go.”
Waneda informed the crew that Ambassador Nor had compiled a dossier of known Corpse Fleet agents currently active on Eox. “I don’t how this background material will help you, but Ambassador Nor insisted you have it,” said the ghoul as she passed it along. The information in the dossier was difficult to parse without much context, but it did include the names of the following Corpse Fleet agents: Rialphus Evanko, Zeera Vesh, and Woan Watten.
The crew thanked the surly ghoul then left the ministry building. They decided to visit the necrograft factory first, and made their way to Fleshworn Fabrications. Tall metal walls behind a chain-link fence and wide, looming security gates marked the industrial facility. Inside the gates was a massive metal-and-concrete platform resting at the bottom of an enormous elevator shaft. The edges of circular pools or vats containing some strange undulating substance were barely visible behind the fence, sunk deeply in the ground. A sign that read, “Attention visitors: Call for agent,” hung above an intercom on one side of the back gates. They used the comm unit to summon Voxel Darksend.
A booming voice answered, and once the crew identified themselves as having come from the Ministry, Voxel hurried over to open the gates, saying, “Finally! It’s about time the Ministry sent somebody! You have no idea how much I’ve needed you to tell my bosses that I didn’t steal or lose the missing flesh. Well? What are you waiting for? Get in here!”
Voxel was fairly coarse and abrupt, and he simply wanted the crew to prove that the missing flesh had been stolen. Voxel didn’t care much about bureaucracy or the political arrangements between Eox and the Pact Worlds regarding tracking the Corpse Fleet. He assumed that the authorities had sent the Starfinders, and insisted on calling them “cops” or “agents.” The crew did not correct him.
As soon as they walked into the flesh yard, Voxel insisted on showing them the relevant vat, which was still empty from the recent theft. He also showed the crew a photo on his datapad of the badge he found next to the vat immediately following the theft’s discovery and even produced the badge itself. Galakrond confirmed that it was definitely a Corpse Fleet insignia. Kusanagi suggested searching the damaged vat itself, but Voxel balked, citing safety regulations and despotic supervisors. Glitch offered to repair the apparently busted control module and fix the broken mechanism, and Voxel agreed that if that were accomplished, he saw no reason to stop them from investigating the vat.
It didn’t take the ysoki long to work his magic and get the vat fixed up. Kusanagi descended to execute his search, and in the bottom of the vat, he found some curious bone spur-like shards among the scraps of synthetic flesh that remained in the vat. He bought the shards back up and showed them to his companions. The crew determined that the bony spurs were likely osteoderms shed by an undead creature known as a marrowblight.
Voxel didn’t know anything about such creatures nor why one would be interested in the factory’s flesh. Before the crew left, he requested they sign an affidavit that he could should his superiors stating that the Ministry had confirmed the Corpse Fleet was responsible for the missing flesh. Once they had done this, he smiled gratefully and handed them a few frag grenades from his personal stash for their trouble.
The crew made their way over to the pensioner’s flat, which was only a block or so away. The narrow sliding door to this residential building bore the tarnished metal numbers “5236,” with the final digit drooping to the side. The door was slightly dented and hung partially ajar, clearly having been forced open. The sound of rasping voices shouting angry taunts could clearly be heard coming from inside the residence, and so the Starfinders wasted no time kicking in the door.
Within, three ghoul soldiers were kicking a bone trooper who had fallen to the floor. The ghouls whirled on the crew, but they were wildly outmatched. After the first fell, the other two fled into the streets, and the Starfinders let them go. The woman Gretal, who had filed the report, expressed her thanks for their help. The bone trooper was concerned about brewing Corpse Fleet activity in the area. She was also a little shaken in the knowledge that her trip to the Ministry of Eternal Vigilance has become public knowledge and that soldiers in her former squadron had taken such offense to her report. A loyal citizen, Gretal simply wanted to do right by her planet’s legitimate government and military, which required her to report her suspicions about her flatmate Harvinne.
In gratitude for their help, and also to help the crew in their future endeavors, Gretal gave them a haste circuit armor upgrade from her time in the 5th Squadron. “I was hanging on to this as a souvenir of my time in the service,” Gretal said. “Honestly, though, I have no use for it anymore, and it will likely help you more than it would ever help me. But let it be a reminder – not all of us who’re dead are bad!”
Although the bone trooper’s appearance was rather unsettling, she was relatively friendly toward the crew. Without much prompting, Gretal unlocked her flatmate’s bedroom and gave the Starfinders the journal page she had mentioned in her Ministry incident report. The bedroom contained no additional clues, but upon examining the journal scrap, they learned that Harvinne had planned to meet with something called “the marrowblight” before taking up her illicit commission in the Corpse Fleet.
The crew exchanged glances. Tracking the marrowblight was clearly their next priority.