Ketin shifted his hands to rub at his eyes with palms. "Oh, yeah sorry 'bout that, s'just a habit." he said all too absently, trying halfheartedly and failing miserably at blowing it off to make it seem like nothing. Anything to keep from becoming too attached to someone.
It was a habit, granted - a habit that formed when he was around someone long enough to really start to consider them to be someone important to him - close to him. He always tried his best to keep it at that - everyone went away in the end, after all. Ikarus had been Ik' until they got separated at Station 01 - Kete had done adequately in making that seem like it had been an object of fate and not his own doing, abandoning his friend to keep their mutual enemy off his friend's trail.
'Gus's name was actually Aengus, but the two became such good friends that the nickname inevitably overrode the original. But 'Gus had been, for the most part, just a normal guy - not too unlike what Ketin might have grown up as if he had been just a 'normal guy'. Kete had come along and brought with him all the large-scale conflict and chaos that came with being the Galaxy's most-wanted criminal, injecting all of it into the world of a guy who's problems were all so much more realistically proportioned - family troubles, strained relationships. No less important, but certainly less dangerous. Eventually they met Riley and Kete was able to distance himself from 'Gus, sort of inserting the new girl in his place. She was a better fit for him anyway. Then one day, as the two of them were just starting to really hit it off, Kete briefly, sadly admired his work and then slipped quietly away, never to be seen again.
And Nirix had been Nir'. Kete never really inserted himself into Nir''s life - in that story things went the other way. He had been in trouble and she had appeared, stuck to him, followed him around with just as much persistence as he would normally use on others. Then, when things inevitably started to get out of hand, she stuck around to help him through it.
But all of Ketin Clarke's stories always ended the same way - the biggest difference this time was that the inevitability of it stung so much more. It was only a matter of time.
Presently he let hands fall back into his lap, looking tiredly downward at the floor where he sat. The undersides of his eyes were reddened and irritated, the hair at his forehead damp, a strand or two clinging to his temples. He had yet to look quite as tired, as worn down, as mentally and emotionally drained as he did at this moment. Even as he stood, the kid emanated tiredness, going so far as to brace himself on the wall as he got to his feet.
Once standing, he shoved hands in coat pockets, continued to stare at the floor for a moment, and at last looked up with the same sad look to the still-present Arthur, ignoring the two great robot guards.
"Hey Arthur...?" he said wearily - the fact that he had never learned Emperor Arthur's name the conventional way did not occur to him, but it didn't matter now anyway, since everyone knew what he was - or at very least what he could do. It was a detail he would usually scold himself for overlooking - never seeming to get any better at it over the years - but this time there was no need for it and there wasn't even a thought for it.
"Can we...can we go now? Please? Forget about the ship, neither of us can fly it anyway, j...just put us down somewhere populated huh?"
Neither of them could fly it anyway. That was a good point. Why in Space would he have agreed to go with Kampfer to get a starcraft that neither himself nor his companion could pilot? Sure, most modern starcraft had extremely advanced autopilot systems which could more than adequately substitute an experienced or trained pilot, but still.
Admittedly, Kete wouldn't really know what to do with his very own vessel - not that he hadn't had such privileges before; he had once been put in command of an entire naval fleet - but there would be other little problems too - namely the solitude.
Kete was always careful to avoid situations where his companion might have a chance to talk with him heart-to-heart - a chance to ask questions, try to better understand or even, Space forbid, help him. Nirix would probably want to talk with him after all this - they had known each other for hardly two, three days?* And already he was so hopelessly attached to her. That would not do, that would have to change or their inevitable separation was going to hurt as much as it had with Ikarus and 'Gus. Yet simultaneously, part of him wanted to fight that, to stick with her, keep her around, keep someone near who could assure him that things would be okay, no matter how much the other part tried to warn of the impossibility of it.
Either way, talking with friends on matters such as this never really got him anywhere he wanted to go...
But when it all came down to it, Kete was an eighteen-or-so year old kid who just didn't want the responsibility of making decisions. He had lived that way for three hundred years - just going where life took him, existing with little initiative except to keep seeing and keep running. He had once been such a great battlefield tactician, but the tactics of life were so much more difficult. Trying to figure out what he did and didn't want, figure out what would happen if he did or did not accept the ship, trying not to think about what drove his past choices and what might affect his future ones.
Besides, even if they did get their own ship, where would they possibly go? The only real choice of action Kete saw now was to return to his usual life - drink it away in a monumental bar-hopping binge, maybe steal some things or stir up some trouble, anything to take his mind off all this - anything to distance himself from everything and become just another weird traveler again.
Just like that, Kete made his decision. That was exactly what he was going to do.
Screw it.
Whatever happened, whether or not he got himself a ship, he was going to get back to his usual routine. He was going to drink his troubles away and get into some trouble, and if they kept him here then he would just shut down and emotionlessly wait it out.
No, he still did not want to become separated from Nirix, he still derived too much comfort from her presence to want anything but for them to stick together - but in the back of Kete's unpredictable mind was the fact that emotional comfort through companionship was like a drug, and one had to limit the kinds of drugs they allowed themselves to be addicted to. Kete was already addicted to lying to himself, to running from his problems - letting himself get hooked on the comforting presence of another wasn't going to be good for him. That was not the driving force for his thought process, but it was one of the many factors that buzzed around in the white-noise cloud which made up his scattered thoughts.
Really Kete didn't know what he was doing or why. That was the ultimate truth of it. He was in a fog, his thoughts were broken and muddled, and he was just doing things, just saying things, just going places, just letting things happen. There was no real logic to any of it - to anything he did or said - and for once that might have actually been noticeable in him...As if his usual unpredictability wasn't already.
It was for that reason that even though he would go on making decisions in the half-blind stumbling-forward of life, at least for the time being any decision that Nirix made would immediately override his own and there would be no complaints. It wasn't a conscious decision to just follow her if she decided to choose their mode of action, but if the option came up he was going to find himself going for it contentedly.
Making decisions was hard, just like making everything okay.
(*: I know going by the 'official' timeline it's only been like...a day since this all started, but similarly to the issue we had during Kartupelis of everything moving too quickly I figured I'd just throw in a couple of extra days just to make everything more realistically fleshed out. I do like to keep it ambiguous~)
(Also other parts will come later~ I...probably don't have to keep saying that every time but whatever. Guess I just don't want to take any more chances on anyone feeling left out by accident~)
It was a habit, granted - a habit that formed when he was around someone long enough to really start to consider them to be someone important to him - close to him. He always tried his best to keep it at that - everyone went away in the end, after all. Ikarus had been Ik' until they got separated at Station 01 - Kete had done adequately in making that seem like it had been an object of fate and not his own doing, abandoning his friend to keep their mutual enemy off his friend's trail.
'Gus's name was actually Aengus, but the two became such good friends that the nickname inevitably overrode the original. But 'Gus had been, for the most part, just a normal guy - not too unlike what Ketin might have grown up as if he had been just a 'normal guy'. Kete had come along and brought with him all the large-scale conflict and chaos that came with being the Galaxy's most-wanted criminal, injecting all of it into the world of a guy who's problems were all so much more realistically proportioned - family troubles, strained relationships. No less important, but certainly less dangerous. Eventually they met Riley and Kete was able to distance himself from 'Gus, sort of inserting the new girl in his place. She was a better fit for him anyway. Then one day, as the two of them were just starting to really hit it off, Kete briefly, sadly admired his work and then slipped quietly away, never to be seen again.
And Nirix had been Nir'. Kete never really inserted himself into Nir''s life - in that story things went the other way. He had been in trouble and she had appeared, stuck to him, followed him around with just as much persistence as he would normally use on others. Then, when things inevitably started to get out of hand, she stuck around to help him through it.
But all of Ketin Clarke's stories always ended the same way - the biggest difference this time was that the inevitability of it stung so much more. It was only a matter of time.
Presently he let hands fall back into his lap, looking tiredly downward at the floor where he sat. The undersides of his eyes were reddened and irritated, the hair at his forehead damp, a strand or two clinging to his temples. He had yet to look quite as tired, as worn down, as mentally and emotionally drained as he did at this moment. Even as he stood, the kid emanated tiredness, going so far as to brace himself on the wall as he got to his feet.
Once standing, he shoved hands in coat pockets, continued to stare at the floor for a moment, and at last looked up with the same sad look to the still-present Arthur, ignoring the two great robot guards.
"Hey Arthur...?" he said wearily - the fact that he had never learned Emperor Arthur's name the conventional way did not occur to him, but it didn't matter now anyway, since everyone knew what he was - or at very least what he could do. It was a detail he would usually scold himself for overlooking - never seeming to get any better at it over the years - but this time there was no need for it and there wasn't even a thought for it.
"Can we...can we go now? Please? Forget about the ship, neither of us can fly it anyway, j...just put us down somewhere populated huh?"
Neither of them could fly it anyway. That was a good point. Why in Space would he have agreed to go with Kampfer to get a starcraft that neither himself nor his companion could pilot? Sure, most modern starcraft had extremely advanced autopilot systems which could more than adequately substitute an experienced or trained pilot, but still.
Admittedly, Kete wouldn't really know what to do with his very own vessel - not that he hadn't had such privileges before; he had once been put in command of an entire naval fleet - but there would be other little problems too - namely the solitude.
Kete was always careful to avoid situations where his companion might have a chance to talk with him heart-to-heart - a chance to ask questions, try to better understand or even, Space forbid, help him. Nirix would probably want to talk with him after all this - they had known each other for hardly two, three days?* And already he was so hopelessly attached to her. That would not do, that would have to change or their inevitable separation was going to hurt as much as it had with Ikarus and 'Gus. Yet simultaneously, part of him wanted to fight that, to stick with her, keep her around, keep someone near who could assure him that things would be okay, no matter how much the other part tried to warn of the impossibility of it.
Either way, talking with friends on matters such as this never really got him anywhere he wanted to go...
But when it all came down to it, Kete was an eighteen-or-so year old kid who just didn't want the responsibility of making decisions. He had lived that way for three hundred years - just going where life took him, existing with little initiative except to keep seeing and keep running. He had once been such a great battlefield tactician, but the tactics of life were so much more difficult. Trying to figure out what he did and didn't want, figure out what would happen if he did or did not accept the ship, trying not to think about what drove his past choices and what might affect his future ones.
Besides, even if they did get their own ship, where would they possibly go? The only real choice of action Kete saw now was to return to his usual life - drink it away in a monumental bar-hopping binge, maybe steal some things or stir up some trouble, anything to take his mind off all this - anything to distance himself from everything and become just another weird traveler again.
Just like that, Kete made his decision. That was exactly what he was going to do.
Screw it.
Whatever happened, whether or not he got himself a ship, he was going to get back to his usual routine. He was going to drink his troubles away and get into some trouble, and if they kept him here then he would just shut down and emotionlessly wait it out.
No, he still did not want to become separated from Nirix, he still derived too much comfort from her presence to want anything but for them to stick together - but in the back of Kete's unpredictable mind was the fact that emotional comfort through companionship was like a drug, and one had to limit the kinds of drugs they allowed themselves to be addicted to. Kete was already addicted to lying to himself, to running from his problems - letting himself get hooked on the comforting presence of another wasn't going to be good for him. That was not the driving force for his thought process, but it was one of the many factors that buzzed around in the white-noise cloud which made up his scattered thoughts.
Really Kete didn't know what he was doing or why. That was the ultimate truth of it. He was in a fog, his thoughts were broken and muddled, and he was just doing things, just saying things, just going places, just letting things happen. There was no real logic to any of it - to anything he did or said - and for once that might have actually been noticeable in him...As if his usual unpredictability wasn't already.
It was for that reason that even though he would go on making decisions in the half-blind stumbling-forward of life, at least for the time being any decision that Nirix made would immediately override his own and there would be no complaints. It wasn't a conscious decision to just follow her if she decided to choose their mode of action, but if the option came up he was going to find himself going for it contentedly.
Making decisions was hard, just like making everything okay.
(*: I know going by the 'official' timeline it's only been like...a day since this all started, but similarly to the issue we had during Kartupelis of everything moving too quickly I figured I'd just throw in a couple of extra days just to make everything more realistically fleshed out. I do like to keep it ambiguous~)
(Also other parts will come later~ I...probably don't have to keep saying that every time but whatever. Guess I just don't want to take any more chances on anyone feeling left out by accident~)
With his large eye, Arthur put his hand on were his chin would be if he had one and looked up in thought. "Hmm, apparently looking in your background and the situation we were in, Kampfer must have assumed that you knew how to fly a ship" He then looked at the two and responded "Well, that means you'll be traveling with Kampfer, as he makes his way towards Gryo for his operation. Of course if you know what occupies Gryo, he won't drop you off there but between from here to there. If you wanted to be dropped nearby it won't be possible since we orbit a gas giant and no populations on different planets in other systems" Arthur explains as he reports towards Kampfer about the situation. "If you wanted to leave know, you are unable to do it for a couple of hours since Kampfer needs to do somethings, during this time I recommend you get some rest or attend a concert that is happening now on the base, it has good really old Earth playing music, serving drink and food" he continue to explain giving all the information deemed useful to Ketin and Nirix. "Don't worry I am to escort you around the base to anywhere you want to go within reason, just me" he reassured them if they were slightly uneasy by any chance and also told him to keep an eye on them, no pun intended.
"You don't scare me big man, you aren't even fully operative." With that he was hinting at the seemingly damaged mechanical arm he had just noticed. With such defect, it would be an easy fight, like taking down a man with only one arm. Easy. But in Dim's eyes, to be honest, he didn't even need to do that, as the government would be disposing of this pathetic dissapointing waste on their own if they'd be returning to the base. Nevertheless, the albino was slightly curious on what had happened to the arm, but only slightly as he already had his doubts.
The albino was slightly confused about the second question - if it could even be called that - so he'd ignore it, not wanting to show a slight sight of weakness.
"You're pretty persistent, aren't you? Keep talking, metal container, see if I believe any of the crap you're trying to make me believe." The albino would say in return, keeping himself in a position ready for lunging at the stranger while he trew the threads back.
There was a problem however. The canid was in a weapon disadvantage if it came to them really having to combat it out. He'd be fine if he'd get in close combat with his bladed cutting doom, but if the stranger would be able to keep them at a distance, the albino was gonna suffer some big portion for not being able to counter or hit them back straight after.
He'd need to play this strategically...
"However, we can make a slight deal." He'd suggest, lowering the agressive tone in his voice. "Remove your mask. Show me you are no mindless can of a bot." Dmitri was not going to be helping a tool of destruction. He did not see a reason to really try negotiating with a being built solely for a specific thing for those specific reasons only. They had no other reasons for existing so he might as well let his sharp friend do the talking for him.
The albino was slightly confused about the second question - if it could even be called that - so he'd ignore it, not wanting to show a slight sight of weakness.
"You're pretty persistent, aren't you? Keep talking, metal container, see if I believe any of the crap you're trying to make me believe." The albino would say in return, keeping himself in a position ready for lunging at the stranger while he trew the threads back.
There was a problem however. The canid was in a weapon disadvantage if it came to them really having to combat it out. He'd be fine if he'd get in close combat with his bladed cutting doom, but if the stranger would be able to keep them at a distance, the albino was gonna suffer some big portion for not being able to counter or hit them back straight after.
He'd need to play this strategically...
"However, we can make a slight deal." He'd suggest, lowering the agressive tone in his voice. "Remove your mask. Show me you are no mindless can of a bot." Dmitri was not going to be helping a tool of destruction. He did not see a reason to really try negotiating with a being built solely for a specific thing for those specific reasons only. They had no other reasons for existing so he might as well let his sharp friend do the talking for him.
"... Yes... Yes..." Christofer would agree blindly to whatever she was saying and trying to explain to him. He felt empty. Being submissive was the only thing he thoughgt he could do, anything else possibly resulting onto her getting more annoyed and there for bad things happening to him in return.
The boy was starting to get more frightened as Royanna was starting to struggle with her words. She was annoyed most likely, she was going to lie, try hiding things from him - but did he even deserve the truth? He had been such a bad bad disobeddient boy...
"... Please... Please... Just... Go eat... It'll make you feel better... You don't need me... ..." The boy spoke in a quiet weak tone, as if he was whispering. He didn't want to just sit there, being all useless, but another part of him was just too scared to do anything. He wanted to cry, letting some of the building pressure to just disappear, evaporite, be gone...
Her silence was making him fear that she was going to do something bad to him and that she was just thinking of a way to punish him for interrupting her, cutting her speach with his worthless talking... He'd probably deserve the punishment...
When she finally started to speak again, Christofer would listen to her talk, silently, not feeling like trying to interrupt her again.
He still felt bad for her having to try and talk all these things to him... Royanna clearly didn't want to speak out all these things like this...
He'd wait for a while after she had stopped. In a way he wasn't expecting her to hit him anymore, but he was still feeling empty and useless. Guilty. Without really thinking it through, the German would get slightly closer to the woman, leaning slightly on her and then wrapping his arms softly over her. Really, hugging her was the only way he thought that he could do anything. He wasn't really capable of expressing his feelings right now, but for now he didn't know any other way to possibly even show that he was thankful and that he cared. Being grateful in a state like this wasn't easy. With no real thoughts put out behind it, the tail too would move on its own accord, wrapping around the two...
The boy was starting to get more frightened as Royanna was starting to struggle with her words. She was annoyed most likely, she was going to lie, try hiding things from him - but did he even deserve the truth? He had been such a bad bad disobeddient boy...
"... Please... Please... Just... Go eat... It'll make you feel better... You don't need me... ..." The boy spoke in a quiet weak tone, as if he was whispering. He didn't want to just sit there, being all useless, but another part of him was just too scared to do anything. He wanted to cry, letting some of the building pressure to just disappear, evaporite, be gone...
Her silence was making him fear that she was going to do something bad to him and that she was just thinking of a way to punish him for interrupting her, cutting her speach with his worthless talking... He'd probably deserve the punishment...
When she finally started to speak again, Christofer would listen to her talk, silently, not feeling like trying to interrupt her again.
He still felt bad for her having to try and talk all these things to him... Royanna clearly didn't want to speak out all these things like this...
He'd wait for a while after she had stopped. In a way he wasn't expecting her to hit him anymore, but he was still feeling empty and useless. Guilty. Without really thinking it through, the German would get slightly closer to the woman, leaning slightly on her and then wrapping his arms softly over her. Really, hugging her was the only way he thought that he could do anything. He wasn't really capable of expressing his feelings right now, but for now he didn't know any other way to possibly even show that he was thankful and that he cared. Being grateful in a state like this wasn't easy. With no real thoughts put out behind it, the tail too would move on its own accord, wrapping around the two...
It was very common for the Ranger to throw as many curses as he could with his voice as loud as possible while threatening someone, all of this while he had a gun - preferably of an unusually caliber - towards his target. This, however, was not the case of Dmitri, that was not a threat. CL merely took the rare opportunity to speak impolitely with someone at least once in a year, but, apparently, this effort had gone to waste due to the canid's rather uncooperative demeanor. Letting a good portion of the frustration of dealing with Dmitri's through a heavy sigh under his mask, the Ranger would try to follow up with another question... And that's when the canid asked him for his mask.
"Looky here, you mangy excuse of a ******* mutt." - The question certainly snapped the Ranger. Judging by the fact that the assailant's gun were pointed straight to Dmitri's snout."Weapons on the ground, hands to the air. NOW!". While Dmitri was an apparent fugitive of some sort, it was doubtful that he had a billionaire reward on his head while being hunted both my paramilitary organization and by dozens of human mega-colonies. "Believe it or not, mutt, but I just won't splatter your brain to the birds RIGHT ******* NOW because you remember me of... Someone... Whatever, just start 'barkin, doggy. Who sent you? Who-- WHAT are you?? How much they offerred for my head, eh?!" - His damaged cybernetic just wouldn't let the Ranger absorb the recoil from his gun nor augment his aim with his neural implants, however, CL were still a bounty hunter with many years of experience, it was easy to assume that Dmitri had to be a lot nimble if he wanted to counter anything the assailant had for him.
"If you want to boil his blood, just call him Wan Nabes Captain-Admiral." - A laughing-coughing fit came along from the old man's voice from the other side of the communication, followed by an hearty "GO **** YOURSELF!!!". It would take long seconds before this Severin-fellow would return communications with Aelyn. After clearing his sore throat, the voice continued. "Anyway. I present you with my, erm... 'Politeness' as the only grant of trusting me. Not Wan. Not our Ranger. No one..." - Everything that Aelyn had dealt with on his stay at Earth VI were kind of goofy in some way or another. A haywire android that held valuable information about Earth. An skilled, but crazy mercenary that curses as much as he breathes. A army led by some megalomaniac, auto-proclaimed lord of space and time with the objective of conquering an strategically poor planet. That with the fact his crew still had their portion of being 'unique', specially Volo. And now another crazed mercenary from the depths of space, apparently commanding a destruction fleet armed to the teeth...
All of it until the voice of Benedict Severin came through his BrainPal.
"As I presented myself before, Captain. I am - Or, I WAS - a renewed scientist specialized in the laws of physics. More precisely, astrophysics and it's countless branches. Due to a disastrous turn of events, I was stripped off my position and after a disclosed amount of time, I've met our Mad Ranger. That's how I made it here in the first place. I come from a region in the universe hypothetically impossible to observe properly if not aided by a very expensive instrument that uses a very unstable ... 'Subject', as a mean of function: Warping of the fabric of space and time." - Nothing of it were a big surprise to Aelyn, FTL travel were a pretty common sight anywhere in the universe, however, executed by distinct technologies depending on whatever civilization uses it. "Now, Captain Petrovalyc, listen very carefully..."
"Cease any use of it. Immediately. I, you. All of us, are in extreme danger." - As soon as the old man said that, all the random chatter into his channel suddenly stopped. What was this 'danger' Severin spoke about that needed Aelyn to deactivate any of his warp drives on the Stella Viventium? What could be a threat to the Aelyn's interstellar colony and Kampfer's force alike? The thought of it were curious as it was grim. "I will relay this same message to "Mr." Kampfer, that is, unless you want the absolute bane of his force's existance, and maybe, anyone he's involved with. I have detected under secret means that your colony reside in an space alternate to this one, I will close our channels immediately, however, whatever it happens, do not warp out of it before I contact you again, we'll try to connect via radio with the Ranger. Benedict out. **** YOU, AEL--"
So, as soon as it came, Benedict Severin did as expected. Communications with Aelyn and the Stella were closed without further warning. There was just one problem: Without his knowledge, the radio message sent to Aelyn could be picked up by Kampfer's forces without precise detection of Wan Nabes cruiser itself... How the mercenaries could contact Kampfer directly without giving out their position through detection of radio waves... ?
"Looky here, you mangy excuse of a ******* mutt." - The question certainly snapped the Ranger. Judging by the fact that the assailant's gun were pointed straight to Dmitri's snout."Weapons on the ground, hands to the air. NOW!". While Dmitri was an apparent fugitive of some sort, it was doubtful that he had a billionaire reward on his head while being hunted both my paramilitary organization and by dozens of human mega-colonies. "Believe it or not, mutt, but I just won't splatter your brain to the birds RIGHT ******* NOW because you remember me of... Someone... Whatever, just start 'barkin, doggy. Who sent you? Who-- WHAT are you?? How much they offerred for my head, eh?!" - His damaged cybernetic just wouldn't let the Ranger absorb the recoil from his gun nor augment his aim with his neural implants, however, CL were still a bounty hunter with many years of experience, it was easy to assume that Dmitri had to be a lot nimble if he wanted to counter anything the assailant had for him.
"If you want to boil his blood, just call him Wan Nabes Captain-Admiral." - A laughing-coughing fit came along from the old man's voice from the other side of the communication, followed by an hearty "GO **** YOURSELF!!!". It would take long seconds before this Severin-fellow would return communications with Aelyn. After clearing his sore throat, the voice continued. "Anyway. I present you with my, erm... 'Politeness' as the only grant of trusting me. Not Wan. Not our Ranger. No one..." - Everything that Aelyn had dealt with on his stay at Earth VI were kind of goofy in some way or another. A haywire android that held valuable information about Earth. An skilled, but crazy mercenary that curses as much as he breathes. A army led by some megalomaniac, auto-proclaimed lord of space and time with the objective of conquering an strategically poor planet. That with the fact his crew still had their portion of being 'unique', specially Volo. And now another crazed mercenary from the depths of space, apparently commanding a destruction fleet armed to the teeth...
All of it until the voice of Benedict Severin came through his BrainPal.
"As I presented myself before, Captain. I am - Or, I WAS - a renewed scientist specialized in the laws of physics. More precisely, astrophysics and it's countless branches. Due to a disastrous turn of events, I was stripped off my position and after a disclosed amount of time, I've met our Mad Ranger. That's how I made it here in the first place. I come from a region in the universe hypothetically impossible to observe properly if not aided by a very expensive instrument that uses a very unstable ... 'Subject', as a mean of function: Warping of the fabric of space and time." - Nothing of it were a big surprise to Aelyn, FTL travel were a pretty common sight anywhere in the universe, however, executed by distinct technologies depending on whatever civilization uses it. "Now, Captain Petrovalyc, listen very carefully..."
"Cease any use of it. Immediately. I, you. All of us, are in extreme danger." - As soon as the old man said that, all the random chatter into his channel suddenly stopped. What was this 'danger' Severin spoke about that needed Aelyn to deactivate any of his warp drives on the Stella Viventium? What could be a threat to the Aelyn's interstellar colony and Kampfer's force alike? The thought of it were curious as it was grim. "I will relay this same message to "Mr." Kampfer, that is, unless you want the absolute bane of his force's existance, and maybe, anyone he's involved with. I have detected under secret means that your colony reside in an space alternate to this one, I will close our channels immediately, however, whatever it happens, do not warp out of it before I contact you again, we'll try to connect via radio with the Ranger. Benedict out. **** YOU, AEL--"
So, as soon as it came, Benedict Severin did as expected. Communications with Aelyn and the Stella were closed without further warning. There was just one problem: Without his knowledge, the radio message sent to Aelyn could be picked up by Kampfer's forces without precise detection of Wan Nabes cruiser itself... How the mercenaries could contact Kampfer directly without giving out their position through detection of radio waves... ?
It was the sheer normality of Severin's voice that had Aelyn-Paeryc's full attention there focused. He listened intently with expression intense, finger to his ear in indication that nobody should go pestering him at that precise moment. He did not interrupt.
When the communications were cut off, naturally his first impulse was to ignore the warning and proceed with exiting Notspace in a gesture of blind arrogance - but he stopped himself before making any such stupid and irrational decision. The importance of people, he reminded himself - not everyone who contacted him before he contacted them was his enemy, and this Severin had made an excellent case for himself. Not to mention the fact that these newcomers - even the hilariously short-tempered Nabes - provided possible allies, and no matter how well things were going he knew well that no ally was ever to be turned away so long as he was engaged in so impossible quest as the hunt for Earth and Sol.
He said nothing, merely standing with finger to ear and looking thoughtfully forward, as if through the very walls and into the eternal, impossible blackness of Not. Momentarily he recalled what the Ranger had referred to it as - Supervoid - and reminded himself to bring this up with Severin if he had the chance - yes, that made another reason not to burn that potential ally. Another among many.
Most importantly however was the fact that Benedict Severin might have been right. Granted, A.P. had no idea why the use of his or any similar technology might put all parties in such grave danger, but he could think of no other reason why he would have been warned of the peril. His contactor knew the nature of his vessel and was aware therefore that he possessed no threat, and therefore would not need to be quarantined or kept out of the way...And what had he meant by having come from a region of space hypothetically impossible to observe? Without an unstable subject...? There were too many questions and far too few answers - yet the whole of it was too intriguing to dismiss.
Curiously he sent the entire conversation, reordered diligently via BrainPal™ to Harkahn, whom he assumed was waiting feverishly before the primary monitor as the contents of that precious datachip were uploaded…
Aelyn-Paeryc would wait, for now. There was no immediate need to move as it was, and they were safer in Notspace than anywhere else in the Universe. Whatever technological marvel the newcomers had used to determine that they existed at all must have been a sight to behold, certainly something ahead of its’ time. Of all people, Captain Petrovalyc would not take orders blindly from someone simply because they were capable of intellectual communication – but there was no need to act hastily. He would see what Harkahn had to say about it, and he would wait.
“Well, I’m positively surrounded by sound logic and reason today, such a pleasant surprise.” he said at last, lowering finger from his ear to once more address the physically present. That particular statement was in regards to Arsinova’s recognition that he was in the captain’s territory and debt. Since there was no need to bring up what was going on between himself and the Kingsbane, he simply dropped the matter and continued on speaking as though there had been no interruption at all. “I still have a host of questions that would be better answered by you than by your datachip however, if you’ll indulge me…Your account follows that your people burned Earth, but if that was the case then I would certainly remember such an event – furthermore my brother went and made the entire System disappear before any such attack could take place –…” he stopped suddenly, and his expression grew fiercely intense.
He suddenly wished with desperation that he had known just where Paeryc had been when he set his presumed plan into motion. Had he been on Earth?
Forcing himself into calmness again, Aelyn gave a huff and prodded at his forehead with massaging fingertips. The whole of this needed to be approached more slowly, there was no sense in jumping to conclusions. He was eager to understand everything after so very, very long, but…
“Pardon if I recall incorrectly, but you mentioned having been in charge of the destruction of Earth, correct? What…what do you know about the state of non-existence known as ‘Notspace’? Others have referred to it as ‘Supervoid’ though I’ve yet to fully research the distinction…I ask because if my memory serves me correctly, my brother instigated a system-wide shift into Notspace in order to avoid some incoming disaster that he alone had foreseen – I can only assume that said disaster was you. I remember the day clearly as though it were yesterday, and yet I do not recall you or any such attack on Earth.”
He did not mention that many things had been entirely wiped from his memory – or, rather, that he believed many things must have been wiped from his memory, to explain gaps therein. Surely something as great and vital as the robot apocalypse of planet Earth would not have been purged from his brain – if his assumption that it was Paeryc who had tampered preemptively with his memories was true, surely he would have left that critical detail intact. There could be no good reason to do otherwise…
But then, Aelyn had never hoped at being able to even partially understand his brother. The boy had operated on such a different plane of thought, that even the infinitely-arrogant Aelyn Petrovalyc humbled himself in the assumption that Paeryc’s mind was simply beyond mortal comprehension.
After a long moment of thought, Aelyn said ”If you would, could you give me a full, detailed account on the events that transpired between you and Sol? I need to know everything – chronologically – if any of this is going to piece together at all…Oh, and I would like to preemptively express my gratitude for your cooperation.” It might have proven difficult to determine whether the last bit had been uttered with a hint of bitterness or was entirely genuine – not that it mattered.
-
Scientific Administrator Dorin Harkahn was not feverishly waiting for the data to upload itself onto the Stella database. Of the various incomprehensible programs and pieces of data which appeared incompatible with the current machinery, one such executable file must have been something making the data transfer at an incredible rate – because the transfer protocol had been operating for a mere five minutes before claiming to have completed. He did not believe it at first – initially he was outraged that the mech had provided so paltry a collection of knowledge – but it did not take long for him to understand that in fact, the whole of the archive had been uploaded.
Harkahn was not like a kid in a candy store, being faced with the incredible store of information. Rather he was akin to a newly cured diabetic glucose addict being faced with a sea of sugary elixir and an infinite stomach. The look in his eyes as he skimmed over the index was absolute wonderment. There was precisely no chance whatsoever that he was going to be even theoretically capable of staying focused enough to pick out the most relevant information or relaying that which the Captain most intently sought. It was like the ultimate Wikipedia, everything merged together, connected, one thing led to another and another and another – it was glorious.
Sure, he initially went digging for the important things, such as the current location of Sol and Earth, and the historical records of the events what transpired in the days surrounding the system’s disappearance – but it didn’t take long before he was waist-deep in schematics for alien technology and documents relating to theoretical physics and impossible astronomy and all other manners of science which were so far beyond his comprehension that the mere study of it was ambrosia to his brain. He did not even notice when the Captain sent a message containing a recorded conversation and a request for input – he was far, far too busy for even meager attention to such duties, and that was not going to change until faced with direct intervention. Idly, he considered just locking the door to the mainframe – but that would have required standing and tearing his eyes from the monitors. Lucky for him that he was so gifted in the art of informative intake that he could skim the pages upon pages and drink it all in like fine wine…
Teeth gritted, eyes closed and hands clutching with knuckles white at her head, Royanna Kallenger was desperately willing herself out of the intense urge to grasp the nearest object, hurl it with all her might at the opposite wall, curse the kid for how overly hard she had been trying to help him, and storm out of the room with bitter insistences that he come find her when he could handle himself.
But those thoughts were disarmed suddenly and efficiently with physical contact. Indeed she jumped slightly, tensed – not far unlike the way Christofer had reacted on numerous occasions to her own touch – it was subtle and did not radiate a sense of displeasure, but clearly it had not been what Roya was expecting. She had given up, more or less – assumed failure in this impossible endeavor, so suited for anyone but herself – yet here he was, wordlessly, gently embracing her, making it clear that he too was having some difficulty with words.
The two of them were both in positions more than new and uncomfortable to them – particularly him – but there was a parallel there in that neither of them really knew how to handle it. Roya found herself caring passionately for the wellbeing of another, Christofer found himself…being a dog…Comparable enough, she figured in silence.
The minuscule jump and tensing faded almost immediately, and idly she hoped that it wouldn’t go undoing the progress she had apparently – and to her great delight – made with him.
Somewhat awkwardly, after a few long moments of allowing the boy to just hold on and silently express his godsend-gratitude, Roya lifted one arm to sort of put it half-around him, resulting in a hand resting atop his head, with fingers scratching affectionately at the tufty hair. Her detached and un-physical nature would not allow her to wholly return the gesture, but this was something.
At long last, she made a sound – a sporadic little chuckle, a wry despondence in the dryly spoken words that followed. “Heheh….Aren’t we a pair, huh? Great Space…” she shook her head just a little, but not in any real disapproval, only mirroring the absurdity of the two of them in a relatively good-humored light. She seemed tired both in tone and demeanor, but there was an overwhelming sense of relief about her which dwarfed all else – relief that she had managed by some miracle to express herself with some measure of coherency and actually gotten through to the kid. It was a real personal achievement – not to mention that she was more relieved than she would have liked to admit that he was putting some measure of trust into her, that she was helping at least to some extent.
Everything else seemed so far away – Devil Eye, the loss of her unit, the inevitable confrontation with Admiral Malbec which would certainly result in nothing good for her…All of it seemed far away, like some other life – the issue at hand was the only thing that really mattered for now, and no matter how stressful it might have been, she was grateful for it…For the distraction of it – for the fact that she could find such a genuine interest in it all so as to make it the focus of her energy. She felt like a different person – like a new person – and she loved it.
”Guess I’d better go tell the doctors that everything’s okay…” she said quietly, after some time, adding with a spiteful bite ”If Perry’s out there waiting to chew me out for this I swear to Space I’ll ring his neck, ignorant bastard…” but realizing the intensity of her growl, she immediately neutralized it – not wanting to upset the boy again.
”Rgh. No matter, he’s a jackass but there’s nothing he can do so I guess I’d best just forget about him and let him go on his tirade…” A casual glance to the clock, that strange little device on the wall which displayed Galactic Standard Time and would thusly seem quite malfunctional to anyone who was not, for whatever bizarre reason, familiar with GST. Then, craning her neck slightly to the side, she looked sidelong at the communicator around the wrist which currently sat on Christofer’s head – neural implants induced it to give the information she was looking for without the need for commands or buttons.
”We’ll be at Ardella by tomorrow, if they’re not making any other stops. As soon as we’re there I’ll take you to see Doctor Ritters and we’ll get you figured out…I mean, we’ll figure out what’s going on with you. Malbec’s going to want to have a word with me but…” she gave an almost mischievous little smile, though not in the proper position to direct it at anyone in particular, ”I can stall him for half a day at very least. The old man can wait. In the meantime, you’re probably right that the both of us would benefit from getting some food in us. Perry might be a jackass but his ship’s got a great canteen, and it would probably be best for us to get out of this stuffy room for a bit…Whaddya’ say Kid?” Roya maintained a carefully balanced air of mild cheerfulness in her voice – the kind of tone that was soft and reassuring, that acknowledged the fact of current crisis but tried to smooth it over to better cope. It was certainly strange to be thinking about something so mundane as going to the canteen for food, given the circumstances involving an apparent werewolf transformation – but Roya recognized that things were strange and there was nothing that could be done about it for the moment, so it was best to continue on with life to the best of their ability.
Granted, the walk and the food would also be a good excuse to talk to him more about his surroundings, since she still got the distinct feeling from him that he was very, very out of place. Sooner or later she was going to have to figure out definitively if he truly did not comprehend a spacefaring Mankind and, more importantly, why. Idly she wondered if he had ever seen a planet from space before. Lots of people had never such a privilege – the spaceways were home to many, but countless larger sums had never set foot upon a vessel, let alone had the chance at a direct viewing. But that could wait – presently she patiently awaited his reply to her suggestion of adventuring to the canteen for food, trying her best to keep from making him feel pressured.
Maybe she was overthinking this?
Ketin took a deep, heaving breath, and again ran fingers through hair, again flattening ears beneath palms and allowing them to spring partially back up once passed over. The expressive things would not perk up yet – far from it considering how distraught he continued to be – and they were clearly reflective of his proceeding anxiety, his everpresent stress. He was frayed, he was strung-out, he was exhausted, confused – an absolute wreck – and yet the idea of getting some rest did not make it through his thick head. There was only one thing on his mind now – at least, one thing that he could definitively focus on and recognize as an immediate goal.
He did not wait for Nirix to respond to Arthur’s explanation. He only smiled that wry, helpless, strung-out smile and stared hopelessly at the floor.
”Boy I…I don’t know what I’m doin’ here.” he said breathily, half-coughing with the uttered words. He had recognized at last that his head was so densely buzzing with thoughts, potential actions and everything else that he was simply not capable of making any clear and rational decisions. Even his generally sporadic tendencies seemed overwhelmed by it. It was all too much, too much, too much – and he needed to get away from it all. He needed to reset, to restart, to wipe the slate and let everything sort itself out subconsciously. He needed sleep – but that wasn’t what he was going to go after.
With a sudden energy, he looked up again, and glanced back and forth between Arthur and Nirix. His breathing had become slightly more rapid, slightly more conscious, all at once. ”Phew. Alright, uh, I’m…I’mma’ go find a bathroom real quick. I saw one as we were comin’ in so…So I’mma be right back, alright? No escorts necessary, it’s fine, I’mma just…I’mma be right back okay?”
It was no less true that he did not want to be separated from Nirix. No less true that her presence was so overwhelmingly comforting to him, no less true that his gratitude for her control over the situation when he could not maintain it was so absolute.
But they were going to be trapped on this vessel – was it a ship, a station? He couldn’t recall – for some time and that meant Nirix wouldn’t be going anywhere. She would still be nearby in an hour or two, and he wholeheartedly believed – for whatever insane reason – that neither of them were in any real, tangible danger. Sure, just being here was slowly driving Kete mad, but Nirix wasn’t in any immediate danger, Arthur he was sure would see to that, and Kete needed a drink, so it was time to split.
”I’ll be right back, okay? No worries y’know?” he said with a weak little smile. As if on cue, the door behind him slid open and he stepped backwards through it. It slammed instantly shut the moment he was past, and it didn’t open up again.
Just as it had opened at his command, it would stay locked at his command – and so long as he was within range, consciously strong-arming control over it, it was going to stay shut…He was going to make sure of that. He would block any attempt made to open that pesky door for as long as he could, putting most of his mental energy into the task until he was far enough away to count it as a good head start.
It did not matter that he was in ‘enemy territory’, did not matter that the whole place was essentially one great, living being under the direct control of Kampfer and Arthur. Typically, either of them would have had easy access to all kinds of useful information – namely Kete’s precise location in the facility – but he was going to make sure that was not happening either. As he took off down the hallway, his conscious was everywhere, fervently denying any machines, any lenses or cameras, any sensors, any evidence at all of his existence. He was at the top of his game now, if only because of how desperate he was to get a moment of privacy, a moment to try and reset his brain.
Essentially, Ketin Clarke just made himself disappear. It was his greatest talent, after all – manipulating the technology around him to his almost omnipotent will. The more Kete wanted something, the harder and more efficiently he would use that eye to achieve it – and right now he was beyond desperate.
Naturally, he did not come back – and a few minutes after his sudden departure, when the door was once again able to be opened, he would be nowhere in sight. It was going to take a hell of a search to find him now…The only consolation was that he had to still be on the vessel…Unless he might sneak aboard some outgoing escape pod or the like? Was he possibly trying to escape despite the obvious impossibility of such an endeavor? Yet he had seemed so very determined to stick to Nirix’s side that surely he wouldn’t go totally abandoning her, even if part of his brain was telling him that it was a terrible idea to be so emotionally dependent on someone, let alone someone he knew so sparsely as her.
It seemed that even in his fugitive disappearance things were just too damned complicated.
When the communications were cut off, naturally his first impulse was to ignore the warning and proceed with exiting Notspace in a gesture of blind arrogance - but he stopped himself before making any such stupid and irrational decision. The importance of people, he reminded himself - not everyone who contacted him before he contacted them was his enemy, and this Severin had made an excellent case for himself. Not to mention the fact that these newcomers - even the hilariously short-tempered Nabes - provided possible allies, and no matter how well things were going he knew well that no ally was ever to be turned away so long as he was engaged in so impossible quest as the hunt for Earth and Sol.
He said nothing, merely standing with finger to ear and looking thoughtfully forward, as if through the very walls and into the eternal, impossible blackness of Not. Momentarily he recalled what the Ranger had referred to it as - Supervoid - and reminded himself to bring this up with Severin if he had the chance - yes, that made another reason not to burn that potential ally. Another among many.
Most importantly however was the fact that Benedict Severin might have been right. Granted, A.P. had no idea why the use of his or any similar technology might put all parties in such grave danger, but he could think of no other reason why he would have been warned of the peril. His contactor knew the nature of his vessel and was aware therefore that he possessed no threat, and therefore would not need to be quarantined or kept out of the way...And what had he meant by having come from a region of space hypothetically impossible to observe? Without an unstable subject...? There were too many questions and far too few answers - yet the whole of it was too intriguing to dismiss.
Curiously he sent the entire conversation, reordered diligently via BrainPal™ to Harkahn, whom he assumed was waiting feverishly before the primary monitor as the contents of that precious datachip were uploaded…
Aelyn-Paeryc would wait, for now. There was no immediate need to move as it was, and they were safer in Notspace than anywhere else in the Universe. Whatever technological marvel the newcomers had used to determine that they existed at all must have been a sight to behold, certainly something ahead of its’ time. Of all people, Captain Petrovalyc would not take orders blindly from someone simply because they were capable of intellectual communication – but there was no need to act hastily. He would see what Harkahn had to say about it, and he would wait.
“Well, I’m positively surrounded by sound logic and reason today, such a pleasant surprise.” he said at last, lowering finger from his ear to once more address the physically present. That particular statement was in regards to Arsinova’s recognition that he was in the captain’s territory and debt. Since there was no need to bring up what was going on between himself and the Kingsbane, he simply dropped the matter and continued on speaking as though there had been no interruption at all. “I still have a host of questions that would be better answered by you than by your datachip however, if you’ll indulge me…Your account follows that your people burned Earth, but if that was the case then I would certainly remember such an event – furthermore my brother went and made the entire System disappear before any such attack could take place –…” he stopped suddenly, and his expression grew fiercely intense.
He suddenly wished with desperation that he had known just where Paeryc had been when he set his presumed plan into motion. Had he been on Earth?
Forcing himself into calmness again, Aelyn gave a huff and prodded at his forehead with massaging fingertips. The whole of this needed to be approached more slowly, there was no sense in jumping to conclusions. He was eager to understand everything after so very, very long, but…
“Pardon if I recall incorrectly, but you mentioned having been in charge of the destruction of Earth, correct? What…what do you know about the state of non-existence known as ‘Notspace’? Others have referred to it as ‘Supervoid’ though I’ve yet to fully research the distinction…I ask because if my memory serves me correctly, my brother instigated a system-wide shift into Notspace in order to avoid some incoming disaster that he alone had foreseen – I can only assume that said disaster was you. I remember the day clearly as though it were yesterday, and yet I do not recall you or any such attack on Earth.”
He did not mention that many things had been entirely wiped from his memory – or, rather, that he believed many things must have been wiped from his memory, to explain gaps therein. Surely something as great and vital as the robot apocalypse of planet Earth would not have been purged from his brain – if his assumption that it was Paeryc who had tampered preemptively with his memories was true, surely he would have left that critical detail intact. There could be no good reason to do otherwise…
But then, Aelyn had never hoped at being able to even partially understand his brother. The boy had operated on such a different plane of thought, that even the infinitely-arrogant Aelyn Petrovalyc humbled himself in the assumption that Paeryc’s mind was simply beyond mortal comprehension.
After a long moment of thought, Aelyn said ”If you would, could you give me a full, detailed account on the events that transpired between you and Sol? I need to know everything – chronologically – if any of this is going to piece together at all…Oh, and I would like to preemptively express my gratitude for your cooperation.” It might have proven difficult to determine whether the last bit had been uttered with a hint of bitterness or was entirely genuine – not that it mattered.
-
Scientific Administrator Dorin Harkahn was not feverishly waiting for the data to upload itself onto the Stella database. Of the various incomprehensible programs and pieces of data which appeared incompatible with the current machinery, one such executable file must have been something making the data transfer at an incredible rate – because the transfer protocol had been operating for a mere five minutes before claiming to have completed. He did not believe it at first – initially he was outraged that the mech had provided so paltry a collection of knowledge – but it did not take long for him to understand that in fact, the whole of the archive had been uploaded.
Harkahn was not like a kid in a candy store, being faced with the incredible store of information. Rather he was akin to a newly cured diabetic glucose addict being faced with a sea of sugary elixir and an infinite stomach. The look in his eyes as he skimmed over the index was absolute wonderment. There was precisely no chance whatsoever that he was going to be even theoretically capable of staying focused enough to pick out the most relevant information or relaying that which the Captain most intently sought. It was like the ultimate Wikipedia, everything merged together, connected, one thing led to another and another and another – it was glorious.
Sure, he initially went digging for the important things, such as the current location of Sol and Earth, and the historical records of the events what transpired in the days surrounding the system’s disappearance – but it didn’t take long before he was waist-deep in schematics for alien technology and documents relating to theoretical physics and impossible astronomy and all other manners of science which were so far beyond his comprehension that the mere study of it was ambrosia to his brain. He did not even notice when the Captain sent a message containing a recorded conversation and a request for input – he was far, far too busy for even meager attention to such duties, and that was not going to change until faced with direct intervention. Idly, he considered just locking the door to the mainframe – but that would have required standing and tearing his eyes from the monitors. Lucky for him that he was so gifted in the art of informative intake that he could skim the pages upon pages and drink it all in like fine wine…
Teeth gritted, eyes closed and hands clutching with knuckles white at her head, Royanna Kallenger was desperately willing herself out of the intense urge to grasp the nearest object, hurl it with all her might at the opposite wall, curse the kid for how overly hard she had been trying to help him, and storm out of the room with bitter insistences that he come find her when he could handle himself.
But those thoughts were disarmed suddenly and efficiently with physical contact. Indeed she jumped slightly, tensed – not far unlike the way Christofer had reacted on numerous occasions to her own touch – it was subtle and did not radiate a sense of displeasure, but clearly it had not been what Roya was expecting. She had given up, more or less – assumed failure in this impossible endeavor, so suited for anyone but herself – yet here he was, wordlessly, gently embracing her, making it clear that he too was having some difficulty with words.
The two of them were both in positions more than new and uncomfortable to them – particularly him – but there was a parallel there in that neither of them really knew how to handle it. Roya found herself caring passionately for the wellbeing of another, Christofer found himself…being a dog…Comparable enough, she figured in silence.
The minuscule jump and tensing faded almost immediately, and idly she hoped that it wouldn’t go undoing the progress she had apparently – and to her great delight – made with him.
Somewhat awkwardly, after a few long moments of allowing the boy to just hold on and silently express his godsend-gratitude, Roya lifted one arm to sort of put it half-around him, resulting in a hand resting atop his head, with fingers scratching affectionately at the tufty hair. Her detached and un-physical nature would not allow her to wholly return the gesture, but this was something.
At long last, she made a sound – a sporadic little chuckle, a wry despondence in the dryly spoken words that followed. “Heheh….Aren’t we a pair, huh? Great Space…” she shook her head just a little, but not in any real disapproval, only mirroring the absurdity of the two of them in a relatively good-humored light. She seemed tired both in tone and demeanor, but there was an overwhelming sense of relief about her which dwarfed all else – relief that she had managed by some miracle to express herself with some measure of coherency and actually gotten through to the kid. It was a real personal achievement – not to mention that she was more relieved than she would have liked to admit that he was putting some measure of trust into her, that she was helping at least to some extent.
Everything else seemed so far away – Devil Eye, the loss of her unit, the inevitable confrontation with Admiral Malbec which would certainly result in nothing good for her…All of it seemed far away, like some other life – the issue at hand was the only thing that really mattered for now, and no matter how stressful it might have been, she was grateful for it…For the distraction of it – for the fact that she could find such a genuine interest in it all so as to make it the focus of her energy. She felt like a different person – like a new person – and she loved it.
”Guess I’d better go tell the doctors that everything’s okay…” she said quietly, after some time, adding with a spiteful bite ”If Perry’s out there waiting to chew me out for this I swear to Space I’ll ring his neck, ignorant bastard…” but realizing the intensity of her growl, she immediately neutralized it – not wanting to upset the boy again.
”Rgh. No matter, he’s a jackass but there’s nothing he can do so I guess I’d best just forget about him and let him go on his tirade…” A casual glance to the clock, that strange little device on the wall which displayed Galactic Standard Time and would thusly seem quite malfunctional to anyone who was not, for whatever bizarre reason, familiar with GST. Then, craning her neck slightly to the side, she looked sidelong at the communicator around the wrist which currently sat on Christofer’s head – neural implants induced it to give the information she was looking for without the need for commands or buttons.
”We’ll be at Ardella by tomorrow, if they’re not making any other stops. As soon as we’re there I’ll take you to see Doctor Ritters and we’ll get you figured out…I mean, we’ll figure out what’s going on with you. Malbec’s going to want to have a word with me but…” she gave an almost mischievous little smile, though not in the proper position to direct it at anyone in particular, ”I can stall him for half a day at very least. The old man can wait. In the meantime, you’re probably right that the both of us would benefit from getting some food in us. Perry might be a jackass but his ship’s got a great canteen, and it would probably be best for us to get out of this stuffy room for a bit…Whaddya’ say Kid?” Roya maintained a carefully balanced air of mild cheerfulness in her voice – the kind of tone that was soft and reassuring, that acknowledged the fact of current crisis but tried to smooth it over to better cope. It was certainly strange to be thinking about something so mundane as going to the canteen for food, given the circumstances involving an apparent werewolf transformation – but Roya recognized that things were strange and there was nothing that could be done about it for the moment, so it was best to continue on with life to the best of their ability.
Granted, the walk and the food would also be a good excuse to talk to him more about his surroundings, since she still got the distinct feeling from him that he was very, very out of place. Sooner or later she was going to have to figure out definitively if he truly did not comprehend a spacefaring Mankind and, more importantly, why. Idly she wondered if he had ever seen a planet from space before. Lots of people had never such a privilege – the spaceways were home to many, but countless larger sums had never set foot upon a vessel, let alone had the chance at a direct viewing. But that could wait – presently she patiently awaited his reply to her suggestion of adventuring to the canteen for food, trying her best to keep from making him feel pressured.
Maybe she was overthinking this?
Ketin took a deep, heaving breath, and again ran fingers through hair, again flattening ears beneath palms and allowing them to spring partially back up once passed over. The expressive things would not perk up yet – far from it considering how distraught he continued to be – and they were clearly reflective of his proceeding anxiety, his everpresent stress. He was frayed, he was strung-out, he was exhausted, confused – an absolute wreck – and yet the idea of getting some rest did not make it through his thick head. There was only one thing on his mind now – at least, one thing that he could definitively focus on and recognize as an immediate goal.
He did not wait for Nirix to respond to Arthur’s explanation. He only smiled that wry, helpless, strung-out smile and stared hopelessly at the floor.
”Boy I…I don’t know what I’m doin’ here.” he said breathily, half-coughing with the uttered words. He had recognized at last that his head was so densely buzzing with thoughts, potential actions and everything else that he was simply not capable of making any clear and rational decisions. Even his generally sporadic tendencies seemed overwhelmed by it. It was all too much, too much, too much – and he needed to get away from it all. He needed to reset, to restart, to wipe the slate and let everything sort itself out subconsciously. He needed sleep – but that wasn’t what he was going to go after.
With a sudden energy, he looked up again, and glanced back and forth between Arthur and Nirix. His breathing had become slightly more rapid, slightly more conscious, all at once. ”Phew. Alright, uh, I’m…I’mma’ go find a bathroom real quick. I saw one as we were comin’ in so…So I’mma be right back, alright? No escorts necessary, it’s fine, I’mma just…I’mma be right back okay?”
It was no less true that he did not want to be separated from Nirix. No less true that her presence was so overwhelmingly comforting to him, no less true that his gratitude for her control over the situation when he could not maintain it was so absolute.
But they were going to be trapped on this vessel – was it a ship, a station? He couldn’t recall – for some time and that meant Nirix wouldn’t be going anywhere. She would still be nearby in an hour or two, and he wholeheartedly believed – for whatever insane reason – that neither of them were in any real, tangible danger. Sure, just being here was slowly driving Kete mad, but Nirix wasn’t in any immediate danger, Arthur he was sure would see to that, and Kete needed a drink, so it was time to split.
”I’ll be right back, okay? No worries y’know?” he said with a weak little smile. As if on cue, the door behind him slid open and he stepped backwards through it. It slammed instantly shut the moment he was past, and it didn’t open up again.
Just as it had opened at his command, it would stay locked at his command – and so long as he was within range, consciously strong-arming control over it, it was going to stay shut…He was going to make sure of that. He would block any attempt made to open that pesky door for as long as he could, putting most of his mental energy into the task until he was far enough away to count it as a good head start.
It did not matter that he was in ‘enemy territory’, did not matter that the whole place was essentially one great, living being under the direct control of Kampfer and Arthur. Typically, either of them would have had easy access to all kinds of useful information – namely Kete’s precise location in the facility – but he was going to make sure that was not happening either. As he took off down the hallway, his conscious was everywhere, fervently denying any machines, any lenses or cameras, any sensors, any evidence at all of his existence. He was at the top of his game now, if only because of how desperate he was to get a moment of privacy, a moment to try and reset his brain.
Essentially, Ketin Clarke just made himself disappear. It was his greatest talent, after all – manipulating the technology around him to his almost omnipotent will. The more Kete wanted something, the harder and more efficiently he would use that eye to achieve it – and right now he was beyond desperate.
Naturally, he did not come back – and a few minutes after his sudden departure, when the door was once again able to be opened, he would be nowhere in sight. It was going to take a hell of a search to find him now…The only consolation was that he had to still be on the vessel…Unless he might sneak aboard some outgoing escape pod or the like? Was he possibly trying to escape despite the obvious impossibility of such an endeavor? Yet he had seemed so very determined to stick to Nirix’s side that surely he wouldn’t go totally abandoning her, even if part of his brain was telling him that it was a terrible idea to be so emotionally dependent on someone, let alone someone he knew so sparsely as her.
It seemed that even in his fugitive disappearance things were just too damned complicated.
Arthur scratched his metal head in confusion at Ketin since they teleported into the station and so there would be no way he could find the bathroom. But as Ketin disappears behind the door,Arthur just gave a slight shrug. Ketin underestimates the size of the station and complexity of it since one wouldn't be able to find what one is looking for unless they had a guide or memorized the layout of the station. Unknown to Ketin, hidden cameras are placed everywhere for sercutity purposes and those cameras will monitor him as he explores the rather large station. Right now Ketin and the rest are all located in the scientific part of the station which is located in the middle of the apple shaped station with a long stick coming from the bottom making the station look like a giant candy apple. Arthur soon opened the door and basically confirmed his suspicions that Ketin went off to do is own thing, which didn't bother him at all. He turned towards Nirix and said "So since Ketin did is own thing what would you like to do?" in a very innocent manner not worried about Ketin.
Kampfer walked the almost chromed plates corridor, wearing only his black button shirt in which a buttons were undid exposing a little bit of his bare chest, his black pants and black boots. His face showed that of a little anxiety even though now he looks younger than he looks without his optic device on his eye, his hair much more messy. He was obviously neevous about his operation, but for him, he doesn't know why though. For Dimensional Lords, this kind operation is pretty simple, move the soul and the conciseness to a different body that could hold the energy level of a Dimensional Lord. Of course the actaul operation will have to move out of this universe to a a dimensional realm to preform since doing the operation in this universe will violate the laws of Time and Space.
As he walked he carried a fat bottle of Du pont rum, an alcoholic beverage he makes on his own free time and at least two shot glasses. Kampfer plans to drown his anxiety down and possibly get some rest before he goes. As he steps into the hallway about to go into a door that said "The White Swan Pub", he and Ketin end up running into each other. Of course most likely Ketin have been paying attention and not bumped into him, but either way Kampfer ends up blocking his path.
He turns towards the boy either him sitting on the floor or not. He gave a warm smile and said "Vell hello Ketin, I zought you vould be vith Arthur" he took a pause and looked at the door and looked back at Ketin and said "Vant to help drink zis?" as he wiggled the rum in one hand and holding the shot glasses on the other. "It's really good drink, I sell zis stuff on ze market all around ze Galaxy, you may have seen it on your travels, ze delicious Du Pont rum, enough alcohol in here to drop off your ass" he added as he gave a little weezy chuckle. If they do enter the pub, they would be greeted to a classic old English style pub. Dingy walls with low lighting with various wooded bar tables and chairs and a classic bar wooded bar counter top with various alcoholic beverages behind it.
Doctor Glades sat on the chair in Kampfer's office...getting comfortable playing as the big man himself. She was able to listen into the recording that the soldiers got between Aelyn and the unknown associate even though it was a one way talk since she couldn't hear Aelyn talk. Luckily she got the unique radio identification wavelength, basically there radio signature that would allow her to talk to these unknown individuals. She put the same wavelength code into an almost phone looking device and a small holographic monitor appeared that just said "Contacting...please give a greeting" and with that Doctor gave her most manly voice she could do which was not half bad but no doubt the physiologist could figure out it was a woman speaking on the line. "This Doctor Kampfer, Dimensional Lord of the Technology Dimension, you wished to speak to me, please respond" she said very eloquently and allowed the recording on the machine repeat her greeting and waited for a response. Doctor Glades is betting on that they don't exactly know what Kampfer sounds like so this should work even being a woman and also convient that the machine doesn't display faces so they won't see her and she won't see them.
Kampfer walked the almost chromed plates corridor, wearing only his black button shirt in which a buttons were undid exposing a little bit of his bare chest, his black pants and black boots. His face showed that of a little anxiety even though now he looks younger than he looks without his optic device on his eye, his hair much more messy. He was obviously neevous about his operation, but for him, he doesn't know why though. For Dimensional Lords, this kind operation is pretty simple, move the soul and the conciseness to a different body that could hold the energy level of a Dimensional Lord. Of course the actaul operation will have to move out of this universe to a a dimensional realm to preform since doing the operation in this universe will violate the laws of Time and Space.
As he walked he carried a fat bottle of Du pont rum, an alcoholic beverage he makes on his own free time and at least two shot glasses. Kampfer plans to drown his anxiety down and possibly get some rest before he goes. As he steps into the hallway about to go into a door that said "The White Swan Pub", he and Ketin end up running into each other. Of course most likely Ketin have been paying attention and not bumped into him, but either way Kampfer ends up blocking his path.
He turns towards the boy either him sitting on the floor or not. He gave a warm smile and said "Vell hello Ketin, I zought you vould be vith Arthur" he took a pause and looked at the door and looked back at Ketin and said "Vant to help drink zis?" as he wiggled the rum in one hand and holding the shot glasses on the other. "It's really good drink, I sell zis stuff on ze market all around ze Galaxy, you may have seen it on your travels, ze delicious Du Pont rum, enough alcohol in here to drop off your ass" he added as he gave a little weezy chuckle. If they do enter the pub, they would be greeted to a classic old English style pub. Dingy walls with low lighting with various wooded bar tables and chairs and a classic bar wooded bar counter top with various alcoholic beverages behind it.
Doctor Glades sat on the chair in Kampfer's office...getting comfortable playing as the big man himself. She was able to listen into the recording that the soldiers got between Aelyn and the unknown associate even though it was a one way talk since she couldn't hear Aelyn talk. Luckily she got the unique radio identification wavelength, basically there radio signature that would allow her to talk to these unknown individuals. She put the same wavelength code into an almost phone looking device and a small holographic monitor appeared that just said "Contacting...please give a greeting" and with that Doctor gave her most manly voice she could do which was not half bad but no doubt the physiologist could figure out it was a woman speaking on the line. "This Doctor Kampfer, Dimensional Lord of the Technology Dimension, you wished to speak to me, please respond" she said very eloquently and allowed the recording on the machine repeat her greeting and waited for a response. Doctor Glades is betting on that they don't exactly know what Kampfer sounds like so this should work even being a woman and also convient that the machine doesn't display faces so they won't see her and she won't see them.
Arsinova nodded "What most refer to as the Supervoid here, in terms you can understand I referred to it as the 4th dimension so to speak. The impassable barrier between universes, or so was thought before, you see I'm not from around here, none of us are, since the indulgence of what you call the dimensional lord all of our worlds have been ripped into and torn open like tissue paper." He loaded up a hologram version of the video feed allowing him to view the footage showing the destruction of earth where it's surface was burned to a crisp "You see? Where I saw these events happen you saw something completely different, where my people are alive yours now live but on top of our ruins. None of us are supposed to be here yet we are anyways because time and space has been intertwined and entangled, all because a D'lord had to get involved" As the feed ended Arsinova shut it off knowing that a sense of confusion would hit some "The only reason any of us could pass through the supervoid is because interspatial anomalies allow us to, like a worm hole they link up different sections of space, I call them Realm Gates for all intent and purposes, and for the majority of time I've been studying them trying to understand how they work and like always I come to a drastic halt when they close before the scan is complete"
"Wow, that's offensive you know, trash metal." The albino would comment on being called a mutt. It was a thing he would hear regularily when insulted though - the modernized soldiers didn't have all that wide variety of words to use in the end as their creators saw no need for such side to their little mindless servers.
The gun pointing at him was a whole other thing though. It wasn't unheard of either, but it surely didn't please the half-blind canid. He'd growl in return, refusing to lower his dagger. Shortly, when the stranger would start talking again, Dmitri could sence some signs of hesitation in them. The tone, the way they kept on having trouble what kind of words to use and what volume to speak with... The bot was clearly malfunctioning.
This would be his chance.
The albino would take a quick step to the right, moving to the side he himself could better see - and on the off chance the stranger were to react the loss wouldn't be as big. He didn't carry much with him so he couldn't stop the person from moving.
Upon getting closer though and being ready to go in for a good slash the canid stopped, his ears ringing with a high-pithed sound the Ranger wasn't probably going to aknowledge for hearing reasons.
"Not a man for negotiation, are you, hmmm?" The man from before would conclude, approaching them slowly and calmly from the direction of the cantonment, all the while holding a small whistle like object in one his hands, the other one holding the strap connecting to his rifle.
The white fur would be taken out of focus for a moment. He hadn't expected the man to follow him this soon, the albino must have been slacking...
When he did get back into focus, Dim would assume that the taller man's appearing could be working as some sort of distraction and it gave him a small opening. Beccause of the whistle though, the albino knew better than to try really going and harming the stragner now, but he would hit the gun they carried - not liking it that the weapon would still be pointing at them - pushing it up with his plate-covered arm and then retreating according to a pattern until eventually placing himself at the side of the taller man.
Other than the additional company of the Albino, the newcomer seemed to be alone, but that was not exactly the case. Coming alone would give him an advantage in a first meeting, giving off some sort of reason to respect and feel intimidated by him. Still, coming alone wouldn't be a good idea considering a situation as such, so there were indeed other units present, juts that they stayed hidden for now, although one could feel them nearing the spot.
"I would like to offer you a chance to sort your matters out in a less wasteful manner." The taller man would throw up the suggestion, keeping his emotions and outside factors out of it. There was no need to use pressure or any other sort of similar methods yet - for now those were indeed wasteful in his eyes. "Will you come willingly?"
Dmitri would be keeping an eye on the stranger, not trusting them or any sort of hasty movements. He'd move slightly closer to the taller man, signaling to him that he'd be there.
"You took a while." He'd state, talking quietly while using a strange language that some most likely wouldn't recognize unless they were from the same general area or if they had been trained and taught the language somewhere else.
"It takes some time to get used to not having a weapon carrier." The human would respond in the same langage, neither of them taking their eyes off the stranger as they were observing him on the side.
The gun pointing at him was a whole other thing though. It wasn't unheard of either, but it surely didn't please the half-blind canid. He'd growl in return, refusing to lower his dagger. Shortly, when the stranger would start talking again, Dmitri could sence some signs of hesitation in them. The tone, the way they kept on having trouble what kind of words to use and what volume to speak with... The bot was clearly malfunctioning.
This would be his chance.
The albino would take a quick step to the right, moving to the side he himself could better see - and on the off chance the stranger were to react the loss wouldn't be as big. He didn't carry much with him so he couldn't stop the person from moving.
Upon getting closer though and being ready to go in for a good slash the canid stopped, his ears ringing with a high-pithed sound the Ranger wasn't probably going to aknowledge for hearing reasons.
"Not a man for negotiation, are you, hmmm?" The man from before would conclude, approaching them slowly and calmly from the direction of the cantonment, all the while holding a small whistle like object in one his hands, the other one holding the strap connecting to his rifle.
The white fur would be taken out of focus for a moment. He hadn't expected the man to follow him this soon, the albino must have been slacking...
When he did get back into focus, Dim would assume that the taller man's appearing could be working as some sort of distraction and it gave him a small opening. Beccause of the whistle though, the albino knew better than to try really going and harming the stragner now, but he would hit the gun they carried - not liking it that the weapon would still be pointing at them - pushing it up with his plate-covered arm and then retreating according to a pattern until eventually placing himself at the side of the taller man.
Other than the additional company of the Albino, the newcomer seemed to be alone, but that was not exactly the case. Coming alone would give him an advantage in a first meeting, giving off some sort of reason to respect and feel intimidated by him. Still, coming alone wouldn't be a good idea considering a situation as such, so there were indeed other units present, juts that they stayed hidden for now, although one could feel them nearing the spot.
"I would like to offer you a chance to sort your matters out in a less wasteful manner." The taller man would throw up the suggestion, keeping his emotions and outside factors out of it. There was no need to use pressure or any other sort of similar methods yet - for now those were indeed wasteful in his eyes. "Will you come willingly?"
Dmitri would be keeping an eye on the stranger, not trusting them or any sort of hasty movements. He'd move slightly closer to the taller man, signaling to him that he'd be there.
"You took a while." He'd state, talking quietly while using a strange language that some most likely wouldn't recognize unless they were from the same general area or if they had been trained and taught the language somewhere else.
"It takes some time to get used to not having a weapon carrier." The human would respond in the same langage, neither of them taking their eyes off the stranger as they were observing him on the side.
If you really want some music
She should've known.
The metal door was closed and it didn't open for awhile. His little "trip" to the bathroom was a convent story (Or was it a lie?) and even when he had said it, Nirix knew it wasn't necessarily true. Could he had actually have went to the bathroom? Yes, but that didn't mean that he would bother to come back. That didn't mean it hurt any less.
It didn't stop the frown that appeared on the Eoclu's features.
In all honesty, the Da'len had probably wanted some space; space to think and breathe, space to explore and to be alone. Nirix could understand that. Yet because he had chosen here, a space station under the direct control of Kampfer, left her anxious. Why wander here of all places? Why lock her out? Nirix still held her doubts about the utterly confusing Dimensional Lord and wouldn't believe barely anything that came out of his mouth. Did Ketin see this place as safe?
"You," Suddenly she turned her lavender gaze upon the...thing, Ketin had initial called Arthur. Briefly her mind focused on what exactly Arthur was. A man or a some kind of odd robot or combination of both? She couldn't understand it nor as to why he addressed her so casually. Did he believe that they were on good terms because he had saved her?
"This Station must have an observatory deck, yes? Or at least a fairly quiet location?" She questioned with a tilt of her head. Nirix would need time for herself, time to pray, time to hone her skills. Her mind was clouded, tons of thoughts flooded in her all at once and they needed to be sorted. If they were to get off of this station, a plan needed to be formed for anything Kampfer would have in store for them.
The metal door was closed and it didn't open for awhile. His little "trip" to the bathroom was a convent story (Or was it a lie?) and even when he had said it, Nirix knew it wasn't necessarily true. Could he had actually have went to the bathroom? Yes, but that didn't mean that he would bother to come back. That didn't mean it hurt any less.
It didn't stop the frown that appeared on the Eoclu's features.
In all honesty, the Da'len had probably wanted some space; space to think and breathe, space to explore and to be alone. Nirix could understand that. Yet because he had chosen here, a space station under the direct control of Kampfer, left her anxious. Why wander here of all places? Why lock her out? Nirix still held her doubts about the utterly confusing Dimensional Lord and wouldn't believe barely anything that came out of his mouth. Did Ketin see this place as safe?
"You," Suddenly she turned her lavender gaze upon the...thing, Ketin had initial called Arthur. Briefly her mind focused on what exactly Arthur was. A man or a some kind of odd robot or combination of both? She couldn't understand it nor as to why he addressed her so casually. Did he believe that they were on good terms because he had saved her?
"This Station must have an observatory deck, yes? Or at least a fairly quiet location?" She questioned with a tilt of her head. Nirix would need time for herself, time to pray, time to hone her skills. Her mind was clouded, tons of thoughts flooded in her all at once and they needed to be sorted. If they were to get off of this station, a plan needed to be formed for anything Kampfer would have in store for them.
The mild response from Dmitri would be a strong enough trigger for the Ranger to pull the one from his gun. However, the more he wanted to blast Dmitri right there on the spot, the more it reminded CL of his past mistakes. The Ranger had once swore, not for his, but... For something else that he would never again point a gun to something like this canid, lest pull the trigger. That intense hesitation the Masked Man's part was the sole reason Dmitri's life were saved. Even though the canid would abruptly take a quickstep sideways, preparing for a rush against his enemy, The Ranger still stood ground, paralyzed, unable to move a finger to defend himself. It certainly felt he was just a malfunctioning android... Save for the thin lines of crimson that ran from what appeared to be burnt flesh from the man's shoulder, barely covered by a now equally burnt patch of his trench coat.
Fortunately, both for the Ranger's remaining dignity and for Dmitri's safety, somebody else managed to come into the scene. The fact that the new fellow had a gun and sported a "more human" appearance, however, didn't contribute too much for any negotiation with CL. "So, there's your master, eh?" - He mocked the canid, tilting his head at the other man. "Should've guessed. A trained mutt can't be alone without one."
Soon, his attention shifted to the new comer, perhaps, not 'new' at all. What could guarantee that this wasn't some sort of well-planned trap to get the Ranger off guard? Whatever were their plans of capture, CL managed to somehow foil it. Even with both of his arms aching of being holding the heavy Revolver towards the duo, the Masked Man stood guard. The last thing he wanted was to have a well placed bullet into his gut as soon as he lowers his arms to rest."I will save you from my sob story, hear me? I just wanted to know if your man's-best-buddy is a Yinxen of some sort."
Named after their preference of the night or whenever darkness stalks the most and their fox-canine like features, the Yinxen is the first recorded race of sentient aliens by the colonists of Old Earth, far back in time where such were drowned in water after a brief, but devastating, nuclear conflict. Exclusive to the popularly named Planet Olympus, the Yinxen is a peaceful, but vindictive race with nomadic and tribal customs deeply rooted into the conservation of their habitat. Even though humans had lived into Olympus for five long centuries, not much is known about those enigmatic beings. There is one human, however, that knows too much about the Yinxen: The Mad Ranger.
"Aside from that, I just 'wanna haul my *** 'outta of this ******* hellhole you call a planet" - It felt uncomfortable for him to even speak about those beings, however, gathering information about the - or from a possible - Yinxen were far from his actual mission on Earth VI. Old Earth was his only goal and the impatient mercenary didn't looked like he had time to waste. "N' to make things clear, I'm FAR from interested in dealing with weirdos in this Earth seven, eight or whatever." - After all, CL still had to make it through a city dominated by Kampfer's force AND steal a hybrid spacecraft.
For a very brief astronomical moment, all went quiet. The only detectable energy waves coming from the start of Earth VI's system, rubble from the previously destroyed dendril-infested ship floated around it' orbit along the wrecked drones and even Stella Viventium were out of the known space. It didn't lasted for too long, however... The same anomalies from before, wormhole radiation, were detected again by whoever had their sensors engaged, this time in a much smaller amount from before. A brief analysis could show that the anti-matter waves, common signature of wormholes and other teleportation methods could came from the familiar region into the outwards of this solar system, through the precise location was yet unknown.
And then, a spy drone came again out from the seemingly nowhere, however, it was dangerously closer to the fleet that surrounded the low-orbit of Earth VI's... And it brought a message from within. "Hopefully, your forces have not destroyed this space craft before this message ends." - It was an expected voice. The rough, sickly tone of the man that had contacted Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc. Doctor Benedict Severin. "Nevertheless, Lord Kampfer, I am a renewed space-class astrophysicist and for the sake of my crew's and - most importantly - your forces integrity, I demand your utmost attention."
The message would halt with these last words, yet, some sort of binary "I comply." and "I do not comply." choice input would be forwarded to the communication system of the fleet's capital ship... That is, if they had already their guns firing at the lonely drone.
Fortunately, both for the Ranger's remaining dignity and for Dmitri's safety, somebody else managed to come into the scene. The fact that the new fellow had a gun and sported a "more human" appearance, however, didn't contribute too much for any negotiation with CL. "So, there's your master, eh?" - He mocked the canid, tilting his head at the other man. "Should've guessed. A trained mutt can't be alone without one."
Soon, his attention shifted to the new comer, perhaps, not 'new' at all. What could guarantee that this wasn't some sort of well-planned trap to get the Ranger off guard? Whatever were their plans of capture, CL managed to somehow foil it. Even with both of his arms aching of being holding the heavy Revolver towards the duo, the Masked Man stood guard. The last thing he wanted was to have a well placed bullet into his gut as soon as he lowers his arms to rest."I will save you from my sob story, hear me? I just wanted to know if your man's-best-buddy is a Yinxen of some sort."
Named after their preference of the night or whenever darkness stalks the most and their fox-canine like features, the Yinxen is the first recorded race of sentient aliens by the colonists of Old Earth, far back in time where such were drowned in water after a brief, but devastating, nuclear conflict. Exclusive to the popularly named Planet Olympus, the Yinxen is a peaceful, but vindictive race with nomadic and tribal customs deeply rooted into the conservation of their habitat. Even though humans had lived into Olympus for five long centuries, not much is known about those enigmatic beings. There is one human, however, that knows too much about the Yinxen: The Mad Ranger.
"Aside from that, I just 'wanna haul my *** 'outta of this ******* hellhole you call a planet" - It felt uncomfortable for him to even speak about those beings, however, gathering information about the - or from a possible - Yinxen were far from his actual mission on Earth VI. Old Earth was his only goal and the impatient mercenary didn't looked like he had time to waste. "N' to make things clear, I'm FAR from interested in dealing with weirdos in this Earth seven, eight or whatever." - After all, CL still had to make it through a city dominated by Kampfer's force AND steal a hybrid spacecraft.
For a very brief astronomical moment, all went quiet. The only detectable energy waves coming from the start of Earth VI's system, rubble from the previously destroyed dendril-infested ship floated around it' orbit along the wrecked drones and even Stella Viventium were out of the known space. It didn't lasted for too long, however... The same anomalies from before, wormhole radiation, were detected again by whoever had their sensors engaged, this time in a much smaller amount from before. A brief analysis could show that the anti-matter waves, common signature of wormholes and other teleportation methods could came from the familiar region into the outwards of this solar system, through the precise location was yet unknown.
And then, a spy drone came again out from the seemingly nowhere, however, it was dangerously closer to the fleet that surrounded the low-orbit of Earth VI's... And it brought a message from within. "Hopefully, your forces have not destroyed this space craft before this message ends." - It was an expected voice. The rough, sickly tone of the man that had contacted Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc. Doctor Benedict Severin. "Nevertheless, Lord Kampfer, I am a renewed space-class astrophysicist and for the sake of my crew's and - most importantly - your forces integrity, I demand your utmost attention."
The message would halt with these last words, yet, some sort of binary "I comply." and "I do not comply." choice input would be forwarded to the communication system of the fleet's capital ship... That is, if they had already their guns firing at the lonely drone.
♫
He was at the height of his awareness, yet in a daze. It was dreamlike, the way those around him seemed to move as still images, reduced by the complexity of the eye into naught but entities in part of a whole. They served as cones of vision both literally and metaphorically – the eye triangulated his own position among them by determining when he was about to enter any given field of sight and steering him subconsciously away from it. He was essentially invisible this way, and those he passed in the hallways would scarcely be aware of his existence in the slightest. Indeed there were moments where attaining true ‘invisibility’ was impossible, given that often there would simply be no position for Kete to maneuver into that was free of sight – but the centuries of practice had taught him to deal with that, to ride the ebbs and flows of sight masterfully.
The eye was such a powerful thing – too bad the only thing it was good for without the proper equipment was running away and bull****ing out of tricky social situations. It was a hyper-advanced computing system, the only one of its’ kind in the Universe, seemingly impossible to recreate.
And it was in that near impossibility, in that infinite complexity that the Devil’s Eye exposed its’ most powerful trait. It was perhaps more subtle, a kind of ‘between-the-lines’ inference that set it apart further still from every other vaguely comparable piece of technology. It was the key to everything, the defining fact that would connect epic-scale future events into a great, solid web of comprehension. It was perhaps the most important piece of trivia in all possible Universes, and though the clues had been there since the very beginning of it all, it had gone unrealized. The key fact was obscured by invisible walls of reason, hidden in plain sight…
Presently, the dreamlike state in which Ketin glided through the corridors was showing no sign of dissolving. His mind, at least, had been taken off of the difficult thoughts and put instead into the endeavors at hand – that being stealth, if only until he could find some place to sit and think and-
Kampfer was merely another cone of vision to Kete. He was aware of the Lord’s presence, but not his identity…Until it was too late.
He rounded a corner, staring through a security camera on the other side to be sure that he would not run into anyone through the sharp turn. Absently he noticed someone and corrected to avoid them easily.
Then, all at once, it was like a frosted glass window suddenly losing a shade of its’ opacity. Suddenly he was in a lucid dream, instead of just a bad one. Everything was unreal still, everything was irrelevant – and yet the realization that he had just passed the Lord of Technology – the source of the vast majority of his inner turmoil over the past two-or-so hours – was enough to bring that vague, distant sense of awareness into the conscious mind.
His run slowed to a jog, then a walk, finally coming to a stop not far behind Kampfer, who had doubtless turned to address him. It seemed like an eternity that Kete stood there, frozen in semi-consciousness, as his brain desperately wrestled with the problem of what to do now. The pleasant, comforting glaze of willful ignorance had been brushed partially away, his problems had once more begun to resurface, to haunt and wrack his mind in endless indecision and paradox. He stared, wide eyed, a blankly horrified expression, non-sighted vision locked on the far wall, or perhaps at some nonexistent point beyond it which coaxed the eye into a tempting stare.
And then, just like that, the problem was solved.
Click.
The answer was always so obvious, yet every time this kind of crisis arose he failed to realize the fact until it was too late to be of any use.
The answer to all his problems was to simply turn them off. Forget them. Deny them. Keep living, leave them buried in the subconscious to haunt another rainy day.
He turned at last – granted, he did not entirely look as though all his problems had been solved – in fact he was an absolute mess, between the dark circles beneath his eyes to the sickly pale complexion, even the hair which seemed that much less fluffy for it all – not to mention the flattened ears and general sense of mental and physical exhaustion.
He smiled weakly, but genuinely up at Kampfer, who did indeed appear much younger than the boy last recalled, making it much, much easier to interact with him. That, plus the almost absolute switching off of his problems was going to make what seemed to him even now – a terrible decision.
Or, at very least, a very mad decision.
”Oh, hey Grimlock~!” the boy greeted with casual, muted cheerfulness. His tail swayed contentedly.
At no point had Kete the opportunity to learn Kampfer’s first name – yet there it was…Not that it really mattered whether or not he had learned it in the proper fashion or not – though even to the few who did understand the scope of Kete’s unprecedented abilities his spontaneous learning of names tended to be startling…Especially should one keep so close and vehement a lockdown on it in their distaste.
But Kete had never been very good at actually thinking about the words that came out of his mouth. Speak first, regret later – if much later, considering his total lack of social constructs so escalated.
Kete’s eyes followed the bottle as Kampfer wiggled it, offering a seat in the assistance of its’ depletion. His smile widened at the idea of it, then took on a faint air of wistfulness that would be easy to miss if not for the identical accent in his following words.
”Grimlock I think this must be what going mad feels like. Great Galaxy I must be losing my mind.” but the words nevertheless served as a clear statement of acceptance at the man’s offer via implication, and he gestured weakly with a hand to further confirm that yes – he would positively love to help him deplete that bottle.
If Kampfer showed any sign of being irritated at Kete’s exceptionally unwarranted use of his first name, it sailed far over the boy’s head – he was typically oblivious to such things, and so much more at the moment.
It was a pleasant atmosphere within the White Swan Pub – perhaps not Kete’s ideal bar setting of neon signs and smoky air, but charming nonetheless and a pleasant change from the cold, sterile hallways which weaved so intricately throughout the Station. He found relief in no longer feeling the desperate need to keep himself hidden, and ceased blocking his image from security cameras, ceased paying such close attention to the eyes of those around him – he receded to just himself…with all the surrounding eyes and minds providing that much needed extra ‘thinking space’ he did so poorly without.
The boy hopped onto a barstool closer to the front of the Pub, near the corner of the bar where there would be an ample cushion of empty seats on either side. ”I’ve never been a huge fan of rum, but damned if there isn’t just somethin’ special ‘bout that DuPont. Never ‘magined it might be interdimensional vintage.” he gave a small, breathy half-laugh…more at his use of abnormally advanced terminology than the little joke itself.
He would presumably be poured a shot of the stuff – then another – then another – then another – it would be at least three or four shots before he would really be up for talking…
But it was a fragile state the boy was in now. Deeply hidden as his problems may have felt to himself, they were buried only beneath a shallow layer of ignorance and alcohol. It would not be hard to get him thinking about it again, and that would only have him running away again. Any mention on any of the myriad of topics which tortured Kete so would have him disappearing in a heartbeat, for even the strongest liquor could not dull the turmoil of the suppressed in full. If Kampfer wanted Kete to stay, he would be wise to avoid any sensitive topics.
For the moment, there was silence between them, and the dull roar of life proceeding around the two of them. Two individuals, locked in time, isolated from every other living being in the Universe, Kete in his fugitive existence, Kampfer in his lofty position of power. Both extraordinary, both so deeply and irreparably flawed. It was metaphor and simile, poem and prose exemplified, profound in the duality of it. It was a moment of the deepest reflection, that which would provide insight into everything, that might make the Universe and all its’ infinite complexity fall together in a final, unwound enigma with ultimate secrets unfurled for those who introspected in that so very casual of settings.
~Boy, she’s kind of cute, isn’t she?~ Kete thought silently to himself, glancing sidelong at a blonde haired young lady seated some seats down the bar. An idle thought with little intent behind it, but it sure beat the Hell out of introspection.
Then, aloud he said "Nice day out, huh?"
(Other parts later~)
Kampfer seemed glade that Ketin agreed to drink with him, for the Dimensional Lord, it was a nic change of pace instead of drinking alone and talking to himself. For Ketin though, this is a unique opportunity to see a side of Kampfer, rarely seen. Of course Kampfer drank, but drank down at least 6 shots of the really strong but sweet taste of the rum. His face became red and looked like he was in a state of bliss. "Some really good drink" he said as he raised another shot glass and down the hatch the drink went down his throat. Kampfer now didn't really care if Ketin called by his first name, in his drunken state, he couldn't care about anything. He looked at the woman that Ketin was looking at and said "Funny how you get in-trance by a beautiful Z-bot". The woman at the other side looked back at Ketin and gave him a seductive smile and a wink, and then returned back to her drink. "Ze unique zing about Z-bots and most of my troops is zat zey all have some degree of free will, an ability to give my forces some life...and not be so lonely for my sake" he said as he turned back around and tilted his head down before pouring another shot and drinking it. Kampfer just looked on at the table like he was seeing a vision, but in reality, he was just analyzing his life and and choices which started have tears come from his eyes.
"Being a Dimensional Lord itself, is a very lonely zing, not many understand vhat you do" he said he continue to stare at into no where. He gave a slight smile and add "It's always nice to see someone can understand" then his smile became a frown and he slammed his head on the table and started to cry "I MISS MY VIFE! I MISS MY DAUGHTER!" he exclaimed as he weeped. The drunk side of Kampfer clearly exposed that not ONLY was he a sad drunk but an emotional wreck. "VHAT KIND OF PERSON AM I IF I COULDN'T SAVE HER AND BARELY SAVE MY DAUGHTER!" he exclaimed once more. The blonde woman didn't raise her head, but a tear did come from her as she remembered that ever event full day and in which Kampfer lost his wife to birthing complications.
He turned his head towards Ketin if he was still there and asked "Vanna know a secret Ketin?" he looked at him with red eyes and dried streams of tears on his face, it didn't matter to him if he wanted to know or not because he was going to tell him anyway. "Our biggest veakness as Dimensional Lords is zat ve suffer an acute case of madness, some more profound zan others" he took a pause and then straighten himself and looked away nervously and asked "So Ketin can I ask you something? Can I..." his face got redder and thought to himself that it wasn't his place to ask and then mutter "Can..I..*cough*, uh" he continue to be very nervous and flustered in his speech but what Kampfer wanted to be his Ketin's father and so that Kampfer can have a son that he never had and wanted to have with his wife. Kampfer understood that Ketin was more attach to Doctor Allen, and accepted the fact the mostly likely answer was going to be no, but for the mad scientist, it was worth a try. For Ketin this side of Kampfer is the perfect image of the Kampfer behind the empire, a depressed man with a power that no signal mortal can understand except for his old love, in which he was powerless to save. For the boy, after his answer or before, it would be a perfect opportunity to ask Kampfer any questions he wants to know.
Arthur was glade to answer Nirix's demand and said "Of course we have a beautiful observation deck a few levels up, come follow me" he gestured to her as he started to walk towards an elevator. Assuming that Nirix is following behind, he turned towards her and said "By the way, my name is Arthur, for future reference" he was slightly annoyed not being called a thing, but his tone voice is still happy and care free. As both individuals entered the elevator, he timed a code into the letterless and numberless key pad. As they went up he turned towards her and asked "I don't know if its too much to ask, but I can I have a lesson in your people's culture?" his tone is very innocent as the question was. In truth Arthur did genuinely wanted to know about Nirix and her people.
After getting a report about a spy drone, Doctor Glades demanded for it to be unharmed and wanted the message to be patched through. One of the ships used a small tractor beam, originally used to pick up floating cargo, and stuck the drone in place. Getting the communication, the ship sent the signal to the dock Overlord at the starport and used its long range communication to patch to towards Kampfer's office and for Glades to hear the message and after hearing it she replied "I comply" wondering this crew and man are truly and what it is so important that they wanted to talk about.
"Being a Dimensional Lord itself, is a very lonely zing, not many understand vhat you do" he said he continue to stare at into no where. He gave a slight smile and add "It's always nice to see someone can understand" then his smile became a frown and he slammed his head on the table and started to cry "I MISS MY VIFE! I MISS MY DAUGHTER!" he exclaimed as he weeped. The drunk side of Kampfer clearly exposed that not ONLY was he a sad drunk but an emotional wreck. "VHAT KIND OF PERSON AM I IF I COULDN'T SAVE HER AND BARELY SAVE MY DAUGHTER!" he exclaimed once more. The blonde woman didn't raise her head, but a tear did come from her as she remembered that ever event full day and in which Kampfer lost his wife to birthing complications.
He turned his head towards Ketin if he was still there and asked "Vanna know a secret Ketin?" he looked at him with red eyes and dried streams of tears on his face, it didn't matter to him if he wanted to know or not because he was going to tell him anyway. "Our biggest veakness as Dimensional Lords is zat ve suffer an acute case of madness, some more profound zan others" he took a pause and then straighten himself and looked away nervously and asked "So Ketin can I ask you something? Can I..." his face got redder and thought to himself that it wasn't his place to ask and then mutter "Can..I..*cough*, uh" he continue to be very nervous and flustered in his speech but what Kampfer wanted to be his Ketin's father and so that Kampfer can have a son that he never had and wanted to have with his wife. Kampfer understood that Ketin was more attach to Doctor Allen, and accepted the fact the mostly likely answer was going to be no, but for the mad scientist, it was worth a try. For Ketin this side of Kampfer is the perfect image of the Kampfer behind the empire, a depressed man with a power that no signal mortal can understand except for his old love, in which he was powerless to save. For the boy, after his answer or before, it would be a perfect opportunity to ask Kampfer any questions he wants to know.
Arthur was glade to answer Nirix's demand and said "Of course we have a beautiful observation deck a few levels up, come follow me" he gestured to her as he started to walk towards an elevator. Assuming that Nirix is following behind, he turned towards her and said "By the way, my name is Arthur, for future reference" he was slightly annoyed not being called a thing, but his tone voice is still happy and care free. As both individuals entered the elevator, he timed a code into the letterless and numberless key pad. As they went up he turned towards her and asked "I don't know if its too much to ask, but I can I have a lesson in your people's culture?" his tone is very innocent as the question was. In truth Arthur did genuinely wanted to know about Nirix and her people.
After getting a report about a spy drone, Doctor Glades demanded for it to be unharmed and wanted the message to be patched through. One of the ships used a small tractor beam, originally used to pick up floating cargo, and stuck the drone in place. Getting the communication, the ship sent the signal to the dock Overlord at the starport and used its long range communication to patch to towards Kampfer's office and for Glades to hear the message and after hearing it she replied "I comply" wondering this crew and man are truly and what it is so important that they wanted to talk about.
Ketin tried to hide the mild, cagey ’yikes’ sort of expression that arose following the woman’s returning gesture and Kampfer’s casual mention of her actual, ‘artificial’ nature. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but that she was not entirely organic made him less predisposed toward her, reduced his interest – though it was then no more interest than what would warrant a glance or two – to nearly nothing at all. So far he had been paying enough attention to determine Z-Bots from humans, but over the course of the recent events he had scarcely realized that the ratio was drastically tipping in favor of Kampfer’s creations.
Ketin had never cared much for robots of any kind – other than as useful tools or means to ends. He knew them intimately, was well acquainted with the ways in which positronic brains fired their artificial synapses, cause-and-effect, predictable, logical patterns – it separated them distinctly from the chaotic, sporadic, spontaneous and ever changing organic mind.
The idea of robots becoming so near to human was not appealing to him – nor had it ever occurred to him that such a thing might be done at all. It did not, after all, seem like a particularly good use of scientific resources, and the whole idea of it was just…silly.
But the concept that Kampfer’s robots had some measure of free will – actual free will – Kete did not like that. Sure, he hated himself for the fact, but all the self-loathing in the ‘Verse wouldn’t get him accustomed to the idea of the lines between robot and human blurring any more than they already had.
He had met an artificial intelligence once before – C.A.I. on Station 01 – And, granted, C.A.I. had merely been an ancient prototype of Ikarus, the programmed man who had accompanied him there. That whole adventure had been eye-opening into the nature of consciousness, intelligence, life, even the concept of the mortal soul – but C.A.I. had been a gigantic computer capable of speaking only in DOS format text, and Ikarus, though being a human with brain modified so as to act as a computer, was quite clearly not a normal human. The pale skin and lavender eyes…
Lavender eyes.
For the briefest second, Kete realized suddenly that he had thought of something very important.
Then, as quickly and fleetingly as it had come, it was gone again, and he found himself assuming that it had been nothing at all – and perhaps that was the case.
Presently, Ketin averted his eyes from the seductive glance of the blonde Z-Bot woman, becoming intently interested in the wood-grain of the bar surface for a few seconds until he could confirm via mindsight that she was no longer paying him any attention. It was a load off his head – but the relief did not last long.
Things escalated quickly, and Kete found himself legitimately startled and even somewhat concerned at his new, impromptu drinking buddy’s sudden outburst. And Kete thought he was a mopey drunk.
Effectively stunned by it, he was unable to do much of anything, certainly unable to muster words of any useful measure. He just awkwardly, gradually reached over to steal another swig from the bottle as the Lord sobbed at the remembered tragedy.
That last swig helped remarkably.
The boy, for all his drunken obliviousness, was relatively calm at the moment – the liquor had done nicely at keeping him relaxed, and damned good too, considering the social dilemma he was now being so stalwartly faced with.
He said softly, after a long moment of averted eyes, ”Well, you’re only human.”
And whether it was a stupid, ignorant, drunken falsehood, or perhaps some wise, retrospective observation (Or maybe even some strange combination of both) he did not give enough time to be questioned on the matter. Exactly what he had intended by the words, if anything, would be left forever to the ears of the beholder. Could it have meant that no matter how powerful or evolved he was, there was still humanity at the core of his being? Could the implication be that even the greatest figures in history are still capable of mistakes and shortcomings, despite their divine image?
Or had he, in his budding drunkenness, just forgotten that Kampfer was in fact, not human?
Admittedly, given the kid's generally stupid tendencies, it was probably the latter.
But either way, the words must have affected the drunken Kampfer to some degree, since another sudden change had occurred and he was faced all at once with an overwhelming sensation – the motive of which was more than clear.
First there was the comment about degrees of madness present in the Dimensional Lords. The kid would give Kampfer a playfully psychotic sort of smile, accompanied by the archaic old phrase intoned |”We’re all mad here~” in the hopes that it might get, if nothing else, a smile.
But then came Kampfer's unspoken plea, and things got awkward again.
And it seemed more than genuine, to be sure – Ketin’s first impressions of this man had been reworked and turned over a thousand times by now, but so far the current end result was most definitely better than he would have originally expected.
And to his despair, Kete found himself tormented by the man – but not at his own peril. For now it stung at his chest how desperately the man desired something that could simply never be. He knew exactly what the stuttered words were trying to convey and not a sound was necessary, yet that made it all the more worse for the intimacy of mindsight, of oneness in the electromagnetic field.
And yet again, Kete was unable to reply. He was a deer in headlights, blinking now and again, drawing blank after blank in a desperate, folly of attempts at managing an adequate response. It resulted in yet another long, painfully awkward moment.
No matter the outcome though, he would proceed the same way – with a dismissive little half-laugh, a matching half-smile and a little shake of the head as eyes returned to gaze longingly at the woodgrain bar.
”Heheh~…Y’know what I think you need Grim? I think you need a night out on the town. You haven’t partied ‘till you’ve partied with Ketin Clarke.” he said, blatantly avoiding the implied, half-stuttered boon and doing his best to smooth it over into something else entirely different. He jabbed a clumsy thumb at his chest as he said his name. The grin on his face was positively devious!
If Kampfer protested, Kete wound insist. If he protested further, Kete would prove as stubborn as any one person could be. After that, he didn’t care if he had to physically drag Kampfer out of that barroom – by Jove if there was one fundamental truth in Kete’s Universe it was that emotional stress and equivalent issues were best avoided and drowned beneath excessive sums of alcohol and other assorted vice! Kete would not be able to help Kampfer work this out, and he knew that – not to mention the fact that he simply didn’t want to – but he could show the man a good time, make him forget about his problems, help him bury them and forget about them to torment him another day.
No, Kete could not provide to Kampfer the son-figure he desperately sought, and it was a far more sharply heartbreaking sensation he was feeling for it than he would have liked. That would not do at all.
Curiously, though nobody in the Universe could have any possible way of knowing, there was someone out there who, in the not-too-distant future, would be making contact with the Dimensional Lord of Technology and perhaps attempting to fill just that role.
Kete was so consistent in that way. His mind was as unchanging as his body. Just when it seemed some progress might be made in any given neurosis, there was Ketin Clarke, first in line to screw it all up and set back to the beginning. He was a disease, in that way.
And so it would come to pass, that one way or another, willingly or otherwise, Kete would be dragging Grimlock Kampfer to go on the bender of a lifetime.
Hadn’t someone mentioned that there was some kind of concert taking place in the vicinity of the lower levels? Anyone interested in finding the kid would be wise to go searching there – if under no more than the assumption that he would have gotten himself into some trouble, given his distraught state at their last interval.
Ketin had never cared much for robots of any kind – other than as useful tools or means to ends. He knew them intimately, was well acquainted with the ways in which positronic brains fired their artificial synapses, cause-and-effect, predictable, logical patterns – it separated them distinctly from the chaotic, sporadic, spontaneous and ever changing organic mind.
The idea of robots becoming so near to human was not appealing to him – nor had it ever occurred to him that such a thing might be done at all. It did not, after all, seem like a particularly good use of scientific resources, and the whole idea of it was just…silly.
But the concept that Kampfer’s robots had some measure of free will – actual free will – Kete did not like that. Sure, he hated himself for the fact, but all the self-loathing in the ‘Verse wouldn’t get him accustomed to the idea of the lines between robot and human blurring any more than they already had.
He had met an artificial intelligence once before – C.A.I. on Station 01 – And, granted, C.A.I. had merely been an ancient prototype of Ikarus, the programmed man who had accompanied him there. That whole adventure had been eye-opening into the nature of consciousness, intelligence, life, even the concept of the mortal soul – but C.A.I. had been a gigantic computer capable of speaking only in DOS format text, and Ikarus, though being a human with brain modified so as to act as a computer, was quite clearly not a normal human. The pale skin and lavender eyes…
Lavender eyes.
For the briefest second, Kete realized suddenly that he had thought of something very important.
Then, as quickly and fleetingly as it had come, it was gone again, and he found himself assuming that it had been nothing at all – and perhaps that was the case.
Presently, Ketin averted his eyes from the seductive glance of the blonde Z-Bot woman, becoming intently interested in the wood-grain of the bar surface for a few seconds until he could confirm via mindsight that she was no longer paying him any attention. It was a load off his head – but the relief did not last long.
Things escalated quickly, and Kete found himself legitimately startled and even somewhat concerned at his new, impromptu drinking buddy’s sudden outburst. And Kete thought he was a mopey drunk.
Effectively stunned by it, he was unable to do much of anything, certainly unable to muster words of any useful measure. He just awkwardly, gradually reached over to steal another swig from the bottle as the Lord sobbed at the remembered tragedy.
That last swig helped remarkably.
The boy, for all his drunken obliviousness, was relatively calm at the moment – the liquor had done nicely at keeping him relaxed, and damned good too, considering the social dilemma he was now being so stalwartly faced with.
He said softly, after a long moment of averted eyes, ”Well, you’re only human.”
And whether it was a stupid, ignorant, drunken falsehood, or perhaps some wise, retrospective observation (Or maybe even some strange combination of both) he did not give enough time to be questioned on the matter. Exactly what he had intended by the words, if anything, would be left forever to the ears of the beholder. Could it have meant that no matter how powerful or evolved he was, there was still humanity at the core of his being? Could the implication be that even the greatest figures in history are still capable of mistakes and shortcomings, despite their divine image?
Or had he, in his budding drunkenness, just forgotten that Kampfer was in fact, not human?
Admittedly, given the kid's generally stupid tendencies, it was probably the latter.
But either way, the words must have affected the drunken Kampfer to some degree, since another sudden change had occurred and he was faced all at once with an overwhelming sensation – the motive of which was more than clear.
First there was the comment about degrees of madness present in the Dimensional Lords. The kid would give Kampfer a playfully psychotic sort of smile, accompanied by the archaic old phrase intoned |”We’re all mad here~” in the hopes that it might get, if nothing else, a smile.
But then came Kampfer's unspoken plea, and things got awkward again.
And it seemed more than genuine, to be sure – Ketin’s first impressions of this man had been reworked and turned over a thousand times by now, but so far the current end result was most definitely better than he would have originally expected.
And to his despair, Kete found himself tormented by the man – but not at his own peril. For now it stung at his chest how desperately the man desired something that could simply never be. He knew exactly what the stuttered words were trying to convey and not a sound was necessary, yet that made it all the more worse for the intimacy of mindsight, of oneness in the electromagnetic field.
And yet again, Kete was unable to reply. He was a deer in headlights, blinking now and again, drawing blank after blank in a desperate, folly of attempts at managing an adequate response. It resulted in yet another long, painfully awkward moment.
No matter the outcome though, he would proceed the same way – with a dismissive little half-laugh, a matching half-smile and a little shake of the head as eyes returned to gaze longingly at the woodgrain bar.
”Heheh~…Y’know what I think you need Grim? I think you need a night out on the town. You haven’t partied ‘till you’ve partied with Ketin Clarke.” he said, blatantly avoiding the implied, half-stuttered boon and doing his best to smooth it over into something else entirely different. He jabbed a clumsy thumb at his chest as he said his name. The grin on his face was positively devious!
If Kampfer protested, Kete wound insist. If he protested further, Kete would prove as stubborn as any one person could be. After that, he didn’t care if he had to physically drag Kampfer out of that barroom – by Jove if there was one fundamental truth in Kete’s Universe it was that emotional stress and equivalent issues were best avoided and drowned beneath excessive sums of alcohol and other assorted vice! Kete would not be able to help Kampfer work this out, and he knew that – not to mention the fact that he simply didn’t want to – but he could show the man a good time, make him forget about his problems, help him bury them and forget about them to torment him another day.
No, Kete could not provide to Kampfer the son-figure he desperately sought, and it was a far more sharply heartbreaking sensation he was feeling for it than he would have liked. That would not do at all.
Curiously, though nobody in the Universe could have any possible way of knowing, there was someone out there who, in the not-too-distant future, would be making contact with the Dimensional Lord of Technology and perhaps attempting to fill just that role.
Kete was so consistent in that way. His mind was as unchanging as his body. Just when it seemed some progress might be made in any given neurosis, there was Ketin Clarke, first in line to screw it all up and set back to the beginning. He was a disease, in that way.
And so it would come to pass, that one way or another, willingly or otherwise, Kete would be dragging Grimlock Kampfer to go on the bender of a lifetime.
Hadn’t someone mentioned that there was some kind of concert taking place in the vicinity of the lower levels? Anyone interested in finding the kid would be wise to go searching there – if under no more than the assumption that he would have gotten himself into some trouble, given his distraught state at their last interval.
Before Kampfer could take Ketin on his offer to go party, the one thing that stuck to his mind was "I am only human" it was so prevalent to him and its the question he always asked himself is he truly human, even though he was created from a corpse from one, even though he was somewhat a divine being? Can he be truly called human? From all the experiments that he did, the most unethical and gruesome, could he truly still be called human? Maybe...from all those experiments he created medicine way ahead of any civilization in the verse, medicines that can cure illness's that are considered incurable, machines to bring back ones beauty and the most advance prosthetic one can get even though this kind of miracles aren't available to the public fearing it would be used for power gaining instead of good. Still with all this could he still be called human? Even with all the experimentation with humans, Kampfer couldn't truly find the definition of what it is to be human even though his best efforts in making his army more human.
Either way this philosophical thought process was too much to comprehend for the drunk scientist and with smile, he looked at Ketin and said "Sure I'll join you in a night on ze town" he then stumbled to get up from the stool and he lost his balance and face planted on the ground, giving out a low groan, before getting back up. "Come one Ketin, zere is a concert on ze lower levels ve can go too *hic*" he said as he started to wobble out of the bar into the corridor. Assuming Ketin is behind they both entered an elevator. Kampfer stumbled towards the key pad and started punching in the code to go down, but in reality, he was messing around with the buttons on it making sound like the melody of the song "Funky town" he started to giggle as he leaned on the elevator panel. He then go his shit together to some degree and punched in the correct code. As the elevator didn't take long to get down but as the doors opened the two were greeted by loud playing of guitars, drums and singing added with a loud screaming crowd cheering who ever was playing. This entire event was taking place in a very large auditorium with a window that showed the gas giant in the distance as the the station orbits it.
The crowd that were jamming it out to the music is a mixture of everyone, from Z-bots, to Deathshead units, to Supersoldatens and even Doc-bots which just made simply movements to dance to the music. Everuyone here looked as they are having a get time. Some were doing shots, playing bar games, and a supdersodaten was playing ping pong against a Doc-bot which has a ping pong paddle strapped to its gun arm and moved it as the giant metal man held this tiny little paddle and it hit softly at the bot. The song "Septmeber by Earth, wind and fire" had just ended and so the the stage in were a band was playing changed lilte a movie shifting into a ext seen and a new band started to play and they were playing the all time classic "Don't stop believing by Journey" and even sounding like the real deal as well. "Impressive party eh?" the drunken Kampfer asks as he looks at Ketin.
Either way this philosophical thought process was too much to comprehend for the drunk scientist and with smile, he looked at Ketin and said "Sure I'll join you in a night on ze town" he then stumbled to get up from the stool and he lost his balance and face planted on the ground, giving out a low groan, before getting back up. "Come one Ketin, zere is a concert on ze lower levels ve can go too *hic*" he said as he started to wobble out of the bar into the corridor. Assuming Ketin is behind they both entered an elevator. Kampfer stumbled towards the key pad and started punching in the code to go down, but in reality, he was messing around with the buttons on it making sound like the melody of the song "Funky town" he started to giggle as he leaned on the elevator panel. He then go his shit together to some degree and punched in the correct code. As the elevator didn't take long to get down but as the doors opened the two were greeted by loud playing of guitars, drums and singing added with a loud screaming crowd cheering who ever was playing. This entire event was taking place in a very large auditorium with a window that showed the gas giant in the distance as the the station orbits it.
The crowd that were jamming it out to the music is a mixture of everyone, from Z-bots, to Deathshead units, to Supersoldatens and even Doc-bots which just made simply movements to dance to the music. Everuyone here looked as they are having a get time. Some were doing shots, playing bar games, and a supdersodaten was playing ping pong against a Doc-bot which has a ping pong paddle strapped to its gun arm and moved it as the giant metal man held this tiny little paddle and it hit softly at the bot. The song "Septmeber by Earth, wind and fire" had just ended and so the the stage in were a band was playing changed lilte a movie shifting into a ext seen and a new band started to play and they were playing the all time classic "Don't stop believing by Journey" and even sounding like the real deal as well. "Impressive party eh?" the drunken Kampfer asks as he looks at Ketin.
Christofer would keep holding onto Kallenger until she'd feel better. The most trusty way he knew seemed to be having a positive effect on the woman. It was relieving, at least he could still do something right. The feeling was good. It was really more than he could express outside to others. He wasn't completely useless. He wanted it to last a bit longer. But it wasn't done wholely for his own selfish reasons, Royanna needed to relax and breathe too. The jump she had done as a reaction didn't really bother him - it was indicating that it was a relatively new experience for her. Toffi had done the same treatment of holding and waiting with a lot harder to handle people too - and all of it was really telling him that it was new to her and Christofer would want this method to be remembered as a positive one on her side as well...
The German would relax too, knowing that it was going to get better from here. He'd purr lightly as she caressed his hair. He hadn't been meaning to purr though, or make any kinds of sounds to be exact, they just happened as he was focusing on the movement of her hand. It most certainly felt nice. A nice genuine caring touch. Innerly in some deep room of his mind the boy wondered how long it had been since he last had felt such a genuinely caring and nice touch...
The mention of a pair felt silly to him. He'd smile lightly to himself, thinking of another person as a whole. The person he could consider having been the other half of the actual pair he was a member of.
Christofer nodded in response, not speaking just yet. The boy would then lean his head partly on Kallenger, sighing, still thinking of the other person from the original pair. He missed them...
"... Mhm..." He made a sound of agreement upon hearing of the doctor, nodding slightly. Christofer wouldn't mind the threads she was laying on the stranger Perry from before. He himself had had some trouble when dealing with the Perry he knew, so it only felt natural for him to have someone talking poorly of the tall blond Swede...
"... Ok..." The boy would reply softly, not really knowing what Ardella even was, and who was the person she was referring to as Doctor Ritters was a whole other mystery, although supposedly not as big as Ardella. "I hope they're nice..." He added quietly...
The best moment to hin was when she mentioned food though. Christofer was glad that she had actually bothered to even consider his suggestion of going to get some food. His eyes got wider, tiredness gone and expression bursting with excitement. He was so hungry that he wouldn't mind what there was to eat, he just wanted to have a bite if something, anything.
The boy jumped off the bed, ready to go, partly forgetting that he wasn't wearing much else but the clean gown the nurses had given him. His tail would be exaggerating the expressiveness of his excitement. Kallenger would be glad if she'd manage to keep it from breaking anything
The German would relax too, knowing that it was going to get better from here. He'd purr lightly as she caressed his hair. He hadn't been meaning to purr though, or make any kinds of sounds to be exact, they just happened as he was focusing on the movement of her hand. It most certainly felt nice. A nice genuine caring touch. Innerly in some deep room of his mind the boy wondered how long it had been since he last had felt such a genuinely caring and nice touch...
The mention of a pair felt silly to him. He'd smile lightly to himself, thinking of another person as a whole. The person he could consider having been the other half of the actual pair he was a member of.
Christofer nodded in response, not speaking just yet. The boy would then lean his head partly on Kallenger, sighing, still thinking of the other person from the original pair. He missed them...
"... Mhm..." He made a sound of agreement upon hearing of the doctor, nodding slightly. Christofer wouldn't mind the threads she was laying on the stranger Perry from before. He himself had had some trouble when dealing with the Perry he knew, so it only felt natural for him to have someone talking poorly of the tall blond Swede...
"... Ok..." The boy would reply softly, not really knowing what Ardella even was, and who was the person she was referring to as Doctor Ritters was a whole other mystery, although supposedly not as big as Ardella. "I hope they're nice..." He added quietly...
The best moment to hin was when she mentioned food though. Christofer was glad that she had actually bothered to even consider his suggestion of going to get some food. His eyes got wider, tiredness gone and expression bursting with excitement. He was so hungry that he wouldn't mind what there was to eat, he just wanted to have a bite if something, anything.
The boy jumped off the bed, ready to go, partly forgetting that he wasn't wearing much else but the clean gown the nurses had given him. His tail would be exaggerating the expressiveness of his excitement. Kallenger would be glad if she'd manage to keep it from breaking anything
Nirix hadn't even regarded Arthur much until he spoke up. She was enjoying the silence of the moment, taking time to herself. But most importantly, taking time to memorize the set up of this station. There were doors here and windows there, a small passage way that led to what seemed like a room. She remembered the elevator and how tricky it was or more like would be to copy the code that Arthur had locked in to start the elevator going. Kampfer was smart, she supposed. It would definitely be tough trying to escape, if need be. Plus there was the fact if finding Ketin, wherever he had went. Or more so, seeing if he even wanted to leave with her....
However as her brain tried to focus on planning, the Eoclu couldn't help but be pulled back into reality to answer the sudden question. Staying silent for awhile, Nirix merely looked at her current companion. His question was simple and fairly innocent or at least appeared to be. Normally, a question about her Culture would make the Eoclu traditionalist smile and maybe even laugh. But this wasn't just a normal question from a normal.... being.
Arthur was one of Kampfer's people, one of his creations. Just because he had asked a seemingly innocent question about her people didn't give her pause to caution.
"I am more of a Traditionalist and stick to the old ways than what my people consider their culture today. Things tend to be more modern while I have chosen the path of our ancestors," She finally replied
However as her brain tried to focus on planning, the Eoclu couldn't help but be pulled back into reality to answer the sudden question. Staying silent for awhile, Nirix merely looked at her current companion. His question was simple and fairly innocent or at least appeared to be. Normally, a question about her Culture would make the Eoclu traditionalist smile and maybe even laugh. But this wasn't just a normal question from a normal.... being.
Arthur was one of Kampfer's people, one of his creations. Just because he had asked a seemingly innocent question about her people didn't give her pause to caution.
"I am more of a Traditionalist and stick to the old ways than what my people consider their culture today. Things tend to be more modern while I have chosen the path of our ancestors," She finally replied
Arthur if he had an actual face would look highly interested in what Nirix told him. "Amazing, I would never suspect for someone like yourself to use old ways to be as successful as you" he praised her. "Please can you explain a little bit about your traditionalist ways" he asks her politely and innocently. "What is it do you believe in? And if you want could you explain why your people moved away from the teachings of your ancestors? he threw more questions in like a smart school boy would do to his teacher if the subject is interesting enough. Yes, for Arthur learning about Nirix's culture for him is interesting.
Nirix shrugged at Arthur's question. Why ask her a question when she did not have all the answers?
"I cannot answer for my people as to why they have abandoned the old ways," She replied, still keeping her answers guarded. A lesson in culture seemed simply enough, being that Nirix was mostly flooding it wit her opinion on the matter. However to be discussing this was still...foreign to her. Rarely, did a conversation about her culture ever present itself and while secretly she was eager to share, the Eoclu still had her wits about her. She would not leak too much about her people to her enemy.
"However, many of our traditions have died out and it appears that our younger generation do not think that the ways of people long dead, that the teaching of their ancestors, can help them now and focus on the many different ways to interpret their lives," She responded with how she felt. Briefly, she recounted the times that the children of her planet had stopped and gave her a curious look while she repaired an old shrine that had been dedicated to one of their gods. They child was confused and only listened for a bit when she explained what it was and to whom it was for. A lesson on the Old Gods had proved to be boring and off the little one went, abandoning it for some kind of game with his friends.
"My family and clan has always followed the old ways because that is how it has always been. If no one preserves the old ways, then what will be left of our people? What will make us unique and different from others?" Nirix asked, not really expecting an answer from him. Now, She waited for the quiet even more. Solitude to reflect on everything that had happened and her people.
"I cannot answer for my people as to why they have abandoned the old ways," She replied, still keeping her answers guarded. A lesson in culture seemed simply enough, being that Nirix was mostly flooding it wit her opinion on the matter. However to be discussing this was still...foreign to her. Rarely, did a conversation about her culture ever present itself and while secretly she was eager to share, the Eoclu still had her wits about her. She would not leak too much about her people to her enemy.
"However, many of our traditions have died out and it appears that our younger generation do not think that the ways of people long dead, that the teaching of their ancestors, can help them now and focus on the many different ways to interpret their lives," She responded with how she felt. Briefly, she recounted the times that the children of her planet had stopped and gave her a curious look while she repaired an old shrine that had been dedicated to one of their gods. They child was confused and only listened for a bit when she explained what it was and to whom it was for. A lesson on the Old Gods had proved to be boring and off the little one went, abandoning it for some kind of game with his friends.
"My family and clan has always followed the old ways because that is how it has always been. If no one preserves the old ways, then what will be left of our people? What will make us unique and different from others?" Nirix asked, not really expecting an answer from him. Now, She waited for the quiet even more. Solitude to reflect on everything that had happened and her people.
Harlan smiles as the loud crashing and creaking of the mechanical doors fade away and the vessel is revealed. He motions for the others to follow him, without saying a word. He opens the door and climbs down the stairs, walking over to the sleek craft. "Aw hell yes!" He swiftly unclips his walkie talkie from his belt and begins transmitting to the others. "Harlan here, I believe we've hit the jackpot. Haul ass over here to the hangars." He lets the PTT button go and the talkie crackles. He reclips it onto his belt and turns around to face Dallen and Tsuan. "Either of you two know how to pilot one of these things? They taught us how to pilot back in the Academy but never did they go over somethin' like this!"
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