Your shuttle slowly enters the gas giant, as you lose visibility of the outside. You immediately begin to feel nervous, even though your new pilot, a young and newly liberated slave by the name of Hawkins, assures you that his sensors can tell everything that's going on with ease.


"Who are you?" a voice comes over the comms system.


"Commander? You want to answer that?" Hawkins asks, as you grab the radio.


"The name's Karth," you say. "I'm here to make a deal."


"Go on..." the voice replies.


"We'd like to hire your men to work and repair our vessel."


"In exchange for?"


"We'll feed you, cloth you, give you board, medical attention, allow you access to our vast databanks of information, let you research the ship as well as continue your research."


"Hmmm... come aboard," the voice comes back.


Through the scans of your ship, the space station is made out to be a large vessel made of a large ring around a central sphere. Your shuttle docks, and the doors open. 


The men on the other side are... simply aren't men. It seems they've taken cybernetization to an insane degree. All that remains of their organic forms are bright pink brains floating in tanks of green fluid.


One is a tank attached to a cylindrical body with tiny, stumpy legs and dozens of long tentacles with various tools attached to the ends.


Another is a levitating, odd shape with a single long, segmented arm ending in a three-pronged claw, as well as multiple tubes situated at the front, holding things such as cathode rays, magnetic beams and a small bunsen burner.


The rest are all just as weird, lacking forms that were even vaguely humanoid. One, a brain jar hanging from four long legs, slowly walks forward, peering down at you with green electronic eyes.


"You must be Karth," it says in a dull, monotone voice. "My name is Dr Malakai the Skull Taker."


"Malakai the Skull taker?" you ask, curiously.


"We all have wild lives before the call of academia takes us, do we now?" Dr Malakai says. "I most certainly did."


"What does this institute do?"


"We're an institute of former techpriests dedicated to knowledge. We search outside the tight restrictions of the God-Emperor or the Omnissiah, or the corruption of the Dark Gods."


"What do you have to say of my offer?"


"The research we're doing in regards to the formation of compounds in gas giants. If you expect us to give over the majority of our staff to you, we want something extra."


"What more could you want?" you ask.


"In exchange for funding, we could turn our focus to more practical sciences and research that could help the ship, whilst working on the Roar of the Vortex."


"How much?" you ask.


"Research is actually very expensive. You need test subjects, research..."


"How much?" 


"Realistically, twenty million thrones."


"That's ridiculous!" you say.


"That's the only offer I'm willing to make."

You refuse

"No deal," you say. "Lower the price."


"I'm sorry, as a man interested in science, I can't agree to anything else."


"I suppose we've reached an impasse, then," you say.


"Agreed. Well then if none of us will move on this issue, I suppose our deal is finished."


To be fair, the Doctor remains amicable, offering you a tour of the facilities. You politely decline, nearly falling asleep as he explains the "exciting world of the atomic radius!", so you're sure an extended tour wouldn't be the best use of your time. You depart on good terms, and head back to your ship.