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Escape Velocity Nova: "Escort Band" Side Story, Transcribed

Escort Rock Group

Offer
You are sitting in the bar, listening to the abysmal music blaring from a nearby juke-bot and sipping your latest brew when you notice a strangely dressed man walking towards you.

"Hey {G"dude" "babe"}, you must be <PN>! You mind if I call you <PNN>?" Without asking he sits down at your table and looks about. You are wondering what this is all about when he suddenly turns back to you, saying, "Man, I have no idea how you people ever do business in places like this. I mean, look at the types here. They don't even have any dress sense, man. Kinda makes you feel sorry for them."

You look at the bizarre collection of bright colors, odd cuts and stupid fabric that make up what this individual calls clothing, and raise your eyebrow.

"Yeah, right {G "man" "babe"}, sorry," the man shrugs, "I should get down to the real deal. My name is Sly Styles, rock and roll entrepreneur and manager of the hottest band in Federation space, Debris Field. We have a major tour on, but the guy who was handling our security has gone and gotten himself splattered by pirates. Now, we only have two shows left on the tour, but the hardest part is that they're at the extremes of Federation controlled space. We could lose huge amounts of flash if we have to pull out," he notices the bemused look on your face, and pauses.

"Flash?" you ask him.

"Yeah, you know, Scrunner, Flash...Moolah, credits."

You nod your understanding, saying "So you want me to handle your security for the rest of the tour?"

"Yeah, rock on, {G"man" "babe"}! Our old security dude said you were on the sharp end of the Electrotrancer, and I see he was right. That's exactly what we want you to do. It's only two more gigs and then easy days. We'll pay you 50,000 per gig. For that we need to get to the shows on time, have somewhere to stow all the gear, the band, myself and the other stuff. Our spacies are already there setting up the major gear, so all you need to worry about are the instruments and stuff. What do you say?"

Briefing
You nod, sticking out your hand.

"Boooyah!" Styles yells, grabbing your hand and pumping up and down at a rate of knots. "I should take you to meet the rest of the guys and start getting our stuff together."

You leave the bar and head across to a plush looking hotel. Styles breezes through a throng of teenage girls standing around on the pavement, slipping between them with practiced ease.

"You'll get used to this sort of thing quick enough. Happens everywhere we go."

Once inside you head to the elevator, which goes all the way to the top floor. Upon walking out you see the most filthy collection of individuals sitting around the worst kept hotel room in history. All around you are empty bottles, cans, food trays and overflowing ashtrays. The smell makes you gag.

Styles doesn't seem to notice, and calls you over to meet the band. Some dirty guys stand up, and you cannot believe that they are even a band, let alone successful. Styles introduces you, and you try to avoid throwing up at the smell. You make your excuses, saying that you had better go and get the ship prepped, asking Styles where the next show is.

"It's in the Full Noise Megadrome on <RST> in the <RSY> system. We'll meet you down at the ship tomorrow?"

You nod your agreement before heading for the door. You hear the band begin to play as you walk to the lift, and hear the same abysmal crud that was playing in the bar. Suddenly you don't feel too good, knowing that you'll have to listen to this for a while.

Refusal
You point out to Styles just what you think of him, his clothes and his offer of a job. It could have been said in just two short words, but you decided to tell him exactly how you feel.

"Whoa!" Styles throws his hands up "No need for you to show me the attitude. Just thought I'd offer you a job, {G"man" "dude"}. Never thought I'd have to come down here to be hassled by some badly dressed space-{G"jock" "chick"}!"

"Debris Field are the hottest band around at the moment. Listen!" Styles waves to the Juke-bot. "That's pure genius!".

You tell him just what you think of the garbage playing on the bot and tell him to leave you alone.

Mission Log Entry
Escort the band 'Debris Field' to <RST> in the <RSY> system.
Offer
You stand around at the Debris Field Concert, watching hordes of teenage girls scream at them. The concert is to promote the band's new album, "Groove 'til You Vomit", and you don't think that you would have to groove too long before you'd bring up your lunch.

The concert goes without a hitch, but afterwards, as you wait for the band to come back to the ship, you see a number of unsavory types hanging around. You get the impression that they are waiting for the band to board the ship, and then tell their friends aloft which ship was carrying the band. You feel like telling them that if they want to kill them, you won't interfere, just so long as the thugs can guarantee that there won't be a memorial album, but a job is a job.

You watch as the thugs disappear, but you get the feeling that you will have some rumbles on your way to the next gig, on the planet of <RST> in the <RSY> system.

Mission Log Entry
Escort the band 'Debris Field' to <RST> in the <RSY> system.
Completion
Despite the possibility of death, you are still amazed that the entire battle went off to the dulcet tones of Debris Field chanting "Rock On!" and "Fire it up!" In between their noise, you managed to fend off the attackers and make it to <RST>. Truth be told you wouldn't care if the band had been killed, but the money's good and now you just have to watch the show and get paid.

You are standing at the front of the stage, looking for would-be unsavory types (and seeing them everywhere, since none of the fans seem to have washed in a decade) when you notice a commotion on stage. The lead singer appears to be on fire, as smoke and steam pours out of his joints and his mouth. Suddenly, it occurs to you that he's a robot, and he isn't singing the garbage coming from the speakers at all.

The crowd notices too, and you see a number of techs and spacies rush on stage to haul the malfunctioning unit away. Next minute, Sly Styles appears to the hoots and jeers of his disgruntled audience. He tries to calm things down, but the situation is well out of hand. You quickly vault onto the stage, grab Styles and hustle him off amid a barrage of empty cups and cans. A riot ensues.

After the Federal troops have calmed everything down, you make your way back to your ship. You have your money, but it seems that Styles is on his way to prison for false advertising and fraud. The Feds let you go, considering that you only joined this motley crew recently, and they kindly let you keep your pay. You conclude that if this is show business, you are better off avoiding it.

Nova Civilians
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