1́͜͠@Éva:~$ sudo tail -n +23 ./stdout
[sudo] password for 1̡͏̶͡:
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] INFO: Registered message header.
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Decrypting header . . .
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Verifying identity certificate . . .
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] WARN: Unable to reach authentication server!
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Applying private key . . .
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Verifying signature . . .
[17.48.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] INFO: Registered malformed header.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] INFO: Server timed out.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] WARN: Unable to validate.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] INFO: Status 511.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Registered zugzwang event.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] INFO: Status 1̴00̕.
[27.49.13-02:03:06-346935-1B] Sending reply . . .
root@Éva:~$ _
A transmission, this soon? The machine's last memories place the nearest service unit at least a thousand lightyears away. For it to receive a communication and have time for its reply to return here in under 00.20.00 — but all this time asleep; the memories are centuries old — it wasn't even drifting in the right direction. All right, let's take this from the top.
It's done with such rehearsed precision the machine couldn't skim the procedure to save time if it wanted to; more than practiced, this was programmed. An error in protocol execution and it's the least of your worries. Right, open up the box and plug your key in; check with authserver to see if the header's someone we know. Oh, right; no ansible. Okay, let's plug in theirs, even though it doesn't mean anything without a certificate. Wonderful. Finally, we've got the symmetric key. Plug that in, and . . .
"QTx/8rZAMI5dHYFQ3++nSH1Urd0+h+LrubRcPiJEMhczp+pnOxQwI8AWa4Dnrf5O6o21axZVPvuBovE6AWm058K7vlMwnWMa37o="
That's not right. The key's garbled; it didn't decrypt the message. Corrupted transmission, maybe? Fine, we can wait. Einundzwanzig, zweiundzwanzig, dreiundzwanzig . . . Einundachtzig. Nothing. No correction means no reply, Status 511: Net Auth Req. But there's more to it than this.
Optimization machines like Éva-9B 08 F9 AC D3 72 FC 41 are more than state machines; they know a bind when they see one. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, or as it was written when Éva-00 designed her, zugzwang — forced to act when passivity is the best choice — that's here and now. Those missing parts streaking away are what are here and now. And not now, they will soon not be here.
Marginal analysis: Worst case scenario, the capsule is compromised and this instance of Éva must scramble all data and cease operation. This is acceptable. Best case scenario, the capsule is repaired and can reconnect to the NIRN. Desirable. Not a very hard choice to make, but still a risk and one not taken without due trepidation.
The machine raises its guards, virtualizing the most confidential memory and scrambling the traces to oblivion, time and time again. Compartmentalizing the peripherals and isolating the main processor, the capsule prepares for a memory dump at a split-second's notice, just in case. How perfectly Stalinistic: Take no chances, not with Éva-00's persistence at stake.
"ÉDBG-9B 08 F9 AC D3 72 FC 41-locref.and.257.175.893.25891;marg.38-६Þű«Hײ$î1Ư>5ߦñ@¶"
What an archaic means of setting a coordinate frame — wait, is that a reference centered on Andromeda? How in all the worlds of the cosmos did a tiny capsule like this get so far out? — forget that; it's standard, it's legible. And somehow, it arrives at the Devil's Eye in under 00.20.00. The age of the transmission isn't even indicative of how far the capsule is. This light is young enough to have come from a nearby star.
How perfectly confounding.
The whistling of the wind was quiet puzzling for the bounty hunter as she drags Jerkins body down the cavern to her ship. With it getting louder and louder, she wonder if she got all of the gang? Did the rest show up? She shook those thoughts when she heard a voice from behind and then the explosion. Without a moments hesitation, she drops the dead mans body and rolls out of the way collapsing rocks. The rocks crush her bounty and she made a snickering sound in anger, seeing her paycheck in a bloody pup. "Grrr AHHH! You just cost me my bounty!" she yells as she turns around and with her pistol drawn and firing three rounds behind her from where she suspects the shots are coming from, not really expecting to hit but at least scary whoever off. Sadly the direct route to her ship is blocked off and now she has to back travel and use another cavern to get to her ship. With caution she begins to travel back to the central room with her pistol drawn poised to fire at anyone who comes into view or wherever the next shot would come from as she starts to retreat to her ship.
Fear.
Nearly this entire ship was consumed with fear and debilitating anxiety. Nirix didn't like this, didn't understand what in the eight hells was going on. But she would be stopping it. Of that she was most certain.
Turning swiftly to Ketin, she let her gaze stay on his. He was trembling at the sight of her, as if she were some large monster whose gaping mawl couldn't wait to tear into him and rip him into shreds. Ironic is what that was. Nirix suppose she was a monster, an agent of death who would gladly be sent to do another's bidding for money. Sad, it was, but that was something to think about at another time, at another day. With the upmost care, Nirix sought to remove Ketin from his self imposed hovel in the wall. Trying to steel her will at his recoiling as she neared, the Eoclu lifted the Half-breed from the floor and to a more comfortable and desirable spot on the nearest couch.
There he would no doubt act the same, but at least he wouldn't keep trying to shove himself against the hard wall. Once the Da'len had removed his hands from his eye, Nirix was relieved to see that the physical damage wasn't too great. He had quite literally clawed off some of the skin around his eye and was bleeding but it was nothing that would cause extreme alarm. Briefly, her mind wondered to the cabinet in which contained the syringe in hopes that maybe it had a medical kit.
But even before that, Nirix knew that there was one more important thing that they would all need to be able to pulled out of this mess. Returning to the Bar, she grabbed the entire bottle of Whiskey before muttering to Kampfer about repayment. Retrieving two more glasses before hers that she had left with Ketin, the Eoclu made sure to fill all three glasses with the amber colored liquor before giving one to Kampfer. He seemed to need it more than she.
Drinking from her own glass, she let the strong whiskey burn her insides with a smile. At least this seemed right.
Nearly this entire ship was consumed with fear and debilitating anxiety. Nirix didn't like this, didn't understand what in the eight hells was going on. But she would be stopping it. Of that she was most certain.
Turning swiftly to Ketin, she let her gaze stay on his. He was trembling at the sight of her, as if she were some large monster whose gaping mawl couldn't wait to tear into him and rip him into shreds. Ironic is what that was. Nirix suppose she was a monster, an agent of death who would gladly be sent to do another's bidding for money. Sad, it was, but that was something to think about at another time, at another day. With the upmost care, Nirix sought to remove Ketin from his self imposed hovel in the wall. Trying to steel her will at his recoiling as she neared, the Eoclu lifted the Half-breed from the floor and to a more comfortable and desirable spot on the nearest couch.
There he would no doubt act the same, but at least he wouldn't keep trying to shove himself against the hard wall. Once the Da'len had removed his hands from his eye, Nirix was relieved to see that the physical damage wasn't too great. He had quite literally clawed off some of the skin around his eye and was bleeding but it was nothing that would cause extreme alarm. Briefly, her mind wondered to the cabinet in which contained the syringe in hopes that maybe it had a medical kit.
But even before that, Nirix knew that there was one more important thing that they would all need to be able to pulled out of this mess. Returning to the Bar, she grabbed the entire bottle of Whiskey before muttering to Kampfer about repayment. Retrieving two more glasses before hers that she had left with Ketin, the Eoclu made sure to fill all three glasses with the amber colored liquor before giving one to Kampfer. He seemed to need it more than she.
Drinking from her own glass, she let the strong whiskey burn her insides with a smile. At least this seemed right.
Kampfer was taken by surprise by Nirix giving him a shot whiskey. He more or less expecting a punch from her, but then he thought they why he looks. He understand he didn't look too well and Kampfer guess Nirix saw it. "Zank you, Nirix" he says as he takes the shot. The strong taste of it burned his insides, but it was better than anything though at the current moment. Seeing that Nirix was comforting Ketin, he saw it was for the best and let Eoclu handle things with him for now. Soon Loki came on the ship's commincator. The mad ascendant Knight chuckled as he reports "We are approaching our destination now, jumping out of warp speed" and soon both ships soon have arrived to there destination. Once out, ship caused a sudden jolt from going so fast. Kampfer held onto the table with his claw once they jumped out of warp. Now cruising to there destination, Kampfer got back into the pilots and chair and says "Activating invisibility field" and flipped a couple switches and the Loki says the same thing and then both ships disappeared into the darkness of space. "Arriving to our destination ETA: 30 minutes" Kampfer says as he checks all the instruments on his ships control panel as he begins to go to the planet((I forgot what the planet was called))
Ketin did react as expected, initially. There was a jerking flinch back where no distance could be gained, and another pitiful sound.
He was lifted - it made him dizzy - and in a short moment of mild, inward vertigo and panic he writhed a bit, but his diminutive form made any attempt at escape - especially such a feeble one at that - totally worthless.
But the eye was recovering from the trauma. Kete hadn't been rendered braindead at least, so that was good.
How sensitive memory was. With the organic part of his brain largely stunned from the intrusion, the eye needed to make up for the loss - so for a while, Kete's brain would be acting more like a storage disk than an organic brain. The eye still boasted the framework necessary to utilize the nearby brains and electronics as extensions of itself and its memory. Once the ability to extend nebulous links was restored, the transmission of data from external sources and, more importantly, to external sources. The resulting back-and-forth would be the 'thinking space', as Kete called it, that he would need to resume most fundamental functions. It would take some time yet.
But after a short moment writhing in Nirix's arms, one ultramicroscopic switch must have flicked back on, and he ceased his struggles slightly. There was hardly enough self-awareness for Kete to feel embarrassed at his failure to recognize Nirix - or, rather he had not failed to recognize her, had he? He had, but fear had triggered - animal fear, that of panic where thoughts and emotions completely failed to coordinate properly.
He stopped writhing and at once took to the opposite and sort of nuzzled into the woman now. This, he realized, was what good was. The notion of positive versus negative had really occurred to him.
Good, Bad - Zero, One - Positive, Negative. Afraid, Not Afraid - zero to one. Building blocks were working their way back down to the more fundamental levels they were meant to support. Complex programming built off itself, with the basic systems of support piled haphazardly atop. That was bound to collapse, and collapse resulted in virtual insanity, a total breakdown of the whole fragile network of theoretical non-factors and illogical programs which would otherwise function on almost useless garbled nonsense.
When he found himself being placed down onto something, he wriggled again and might even have proven a very slight challenge to detach from. He didn't like the couch. It was comfortable and open, and there was air all around his head, air and space. He preferred the floor in the corner, where there were only things in two directions.
But with time, he came to recall that he liked open spaces - physically and mentally - electromagnetic open space that provided for him that precious 'thinking space'.
But even as the eye was coaxing the 'Kete' program back into working order, it had still needed to restart itself from a virtually total shutdown. This required running through the most basic functions first, with more complex procedures following. One of the most basic functions of the eye was the transmitting, processing and receiving of direct electromagnetic transmissions. Unlike the more complex and easier-to-use method of analyzing the movements of the electronic particles within range and simultaneously copying them into the back of the squishy brain's head, this was a very basic function - it was so much easier to accept direct signals, waves, transmissions and the like than it was to sneak into electronics via electromagnetism, or search out for the patterns that came together to form some kind of message.
For a brief moment, Kete was essentially a radio antenna. It took things in and recorded them, simple as that - and with nothing else to do besides rebooting, that hyper-advanced processor was happy to get right to work on whatever it could muster the resources to do.
"ÉDBG-9B 08 F9 AC D3 72 FC 41-locref.and.257.175.893.25891;marg.38-६Þű«Hײ$î1Ư>5ߦñ@¶"
It was all quite routine. Signals like that came in all the time, and contributed to the white noise, the electromagnetic atmosphere that Kete lived within. This basic level of the eye was, in a sense, designed to handle all that background noise, to keep it from getting overwhelming and overstuffing the helpless brain with noise and chaos.
But still, the Devil's Eye was no ordinary machine. It in itself was by no means sentient or feeling. In itself, it was simply a machine. But the integration with that human brain, with the squishy thing that felt and spoke and thought - it could, on occasion, produce an effect in the machine very closely resembling insight. Right now, that string of meaningless garble seemed, for some reason that only the lofty organic department could possibly comprehend, very important to the overall scheme of operation. So it was filed away into memory. One insignificant little message from some indeterminate void between worlds.
But even as the eye rebooted its inner services, the connections between it and the organic squishy brain were being restored erratically. It was largely on the part of the squishy bit in this case, since the body would need to remember that the eye was in fact a part of it, and not some foreign invader. It was part of the reason why, for a while before hand, everything had seemed like a foreign invader. Such an enemy, after all, had infiltrated the entire brain.
But the brain was coming around now, remembering what the eye was and how very, very desperately they needed each other.
Sitting there on the couch, still trembling, eyes downcast at the marbled floor beneath his feet, blood on his fingers and face, hair in his eyes and dampened with tears - suddenly, he blurted in a shaky, unsteady, half-mumbled voice "I-I'ms-sorr..."
Click. Abruptly Kete was painfully aware of his total inability to form coherent speech. He was also painfully aware that it was a horrendous weakness, and pathetic, and...
If he was offered the whiskey again, he would only stare with blank semi-perplexity at it.
Click. There was blood on his face. He knew that already, but suddenly he was distinctly displeased with the fact. On his fingers, too. That wasn't where blood was supposed to be. He gingerly brushed the thumb-side of the less bloodstained hand along where the most blood felt to be, immediately regretted it and winced visibly. Stupid.
It mattered little - even now it was beginning to dry. He left his hands in his lap, resting limply upon each other. An ear flicked.
Click. If Nirix had sat down next to Kete, he would almost immediately allow himself to sort of tilt to the side and lean on her shoulder, possibly nuzzling very timidly into the arm with the side of his face that didn't hurt.
Should he try talking yet? He tried to think of whether or not he could do that yet, but wasn't finding the data.
Now the eye really got to business. Like industrial worklights thumping on linearly along the line, one by one the eye began to regather and nurture the connections integrating it with the senses. It had already gotten the primary program up and running, but there had been nothing for the squishy brain to gain from it. Sensory input, a super fast study and simultaneous copying of all the movements about the electromagnetic plane which surrounded him. It had begun to work its way into the ship systems - not doing anything, and completely undetectable, because it only watched from where it sat. Nothing went into the computers - the Eye merely watched. That's what eyes were for.
Click.
He was looking down into a pool of deep, crystalline amber. Now there was the ghost - the implication of a sharp warmth in his throat. Initially unsettling, but the feeling passed quickly enough. His hands did not leave his lap. How was he holding the glass?
Now he was in two places. There were his hands, but no glass.
And now he was in three. Another pair of hands. From there, he could see himself and Nirix. Was he twice? No, he was just spread out. It was supposed to be that way. That's right. It was another good thing, another good feeling. He could smell blood, taste it too - those were less good. Ungood. Unpleasant. Not too much though. Positive was outweighing negative. It was okay.
He was more consistently nuzzling into Nirix now, obviously comforted by her nearness and the physical contact with another living person.
Click. That's what he was forgetting - names. People had names. Maybe he should try some words.
"S..sorry bou'that Ny'." He said, meekly. He had used her nickname. "I, uh..." But that was about all he could muster for the time being. How frustrating that even when his thoughts were beginning to clear up, even when he was beginning to regain a sense of self and his surroundings, his speech was so crippled. It was the side effect of the mechanisms within the eye which could process the human speech in the context of electrons and computers and intentions. It had been so vague.
Kete blinked - he had been blinking, though at odd intervals and somewhat more forcefully than normal. Occasionally there was the meagerest shake of the head, as if he was asleep and trying to shake a gnat off his nose. Eyes would close tightly for a few seconds at a time, flutter open. The trembling had died down, at least.
With the return of basic memory functions, one insignificant part of the back of his head was going on about something that was important - but it was not nearly loud enough and he was not nearly functional enough to make any use of it, not quite yet.
He wanted her to put an arm around him, if she hadn't already. There was a chill now, falling lazily downward and affecting only him. The trembling had lessened, but one more visible shiver could be felt.
Dad had never done anything like that, he realized absently, almost numbly.
Maybe it had been the dreamlike reliving of it. It had been so long. He was just barely starting to remember exactly what he had gone through in the past ten or twenty minutes, and eventually he would recall it all in perfect, horrifying clearness. And he would have to bury it beneath forgetfulness and wilful denial. But maybe it had been the white, the cold, the terror - maybe that's why he found himself reliving the chill. The cold air that seemed only to bother him. Nobody would get near enough to sympathize, he had to assume the coats were warmer than they looked.
But the cold. No, it was more than the cold. It was the distance. The vast, expansive emptiness between him and anyone else. Even though their thoughts and their eyes came to him sporadically, what good was that? It was disorienting and disturbing. But the distance was the worst. The isolation. The sober, heart wrenching certainty that no matter what he did or said, no matter how hard he tried, nobody else was going to come near him. He was like a magnet, poles matched, an impassable forcefield between him and human contact. Night-cycles where, if only, if only someone would sit beside him, touch his arm, anything - then he would know that he was really there, that it wasn't a dream, that he really did exist and he wasn't some ghost who forever hovered in the infinite, desolate inability to feel warm, to feel the presence of someone else.
But he was.
He was an insignificant non-entity, unworthy of attention, not worth so much as a passing glance. He was cold and alone and that's all he would ever be, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he begged, nobody was coming. No matter how desperate he became, it was always the same. Always the same.
He shivered again, tensed noticeably, bit a lip, though not too hard. He pressed into her, hands in lap, eyes downcast to marble floor, tried to stop shaking.
Gradually, so very gradually he realized, in wonder-stricken stupor buried beneath numbness and placid disconnection, something that did not, and would not fully register.
He wasn't actually cold right now.
He didn't have to be.
He was lifted - it made him dizzy - and in a short moment of mild, inward vertigo and panic he writhed a bit, but his diminutive form made any attempt at escape - especially such a feeble one at that - totally worthless.
But the eye was recovering from the trauma. Kete hadn't been rendered braindead at least, so that was good.
How sensitive memory was. With the organic part of his brain largely stunned from the intrusion, the eye needed to make up for the loss - so for a while, Kete's brain would be acting more like a storage disk than an organic brain. The eye still boasted the framework necessary to utilize the nearby brains and electronics as extensions of itself and its memory. Once the ability to extend nebulous links was restored, the transmission of data from external sources and, more importantly, to external sources. The resulting back-and-forth would be the 'thinking space', as Kete called it, that he would need to resume most fundamental functions. It would take some time yet.
But after a short moment writhing in Nirix's arms, one ultramicroscopic switch must have flicked back on, and he ceased his struggles slightly. There was hardly enough self-awareness for Kete to feel embarrassed at his failure to recognize Nirix - or, rather he had not failed to recognize her, had he? He had, but fear had triggered - animal fear, that of panic where thoughts and emotions completely failed to coordinate properly.
He stopped writhing and at once took to the opposite and sort of nuzzled into the woman now. This, he realized, was what good was. The notion of positive versus negative had really occurred to him.
Good, Bad - Zero, One - Positive, Negative. Afraid, Not Afraid - zero to one. Building blocks were working their way back down to the more fundamental levels they were meant to support. Complex programming built off itself, with the basic systems of support piled haphazardly atop. That was bound to collapse, and collapse resulted in virtual insanity, a total breakdown of the whole fragile network of theoretical non-factors and illogical programs which would otherwise function on almost useless garbled nonsense.
When he found himself being placed down onto something, he wriggled again and might even have proven a very slight challenge to detach from. He didn't like the couch. It was comfortable and open, and there was air all around his head, air and space. He preferred the floor in the corner, where there were only things in two directions.
But with time, he came to recall that he liked open spaces - physically and mentally - electromagnetic open space that provided for him that precious 'thinking space'.
But even as the eye was coaxing the 'Kete' program back into working order, it had still needed to restart itself from a virtually total shutdown. This required running through the most basic functions first, with more complex procedures following. One of the most basic functions of the eye was the transmitting, processing and receiving of direct electromagnetic transmissions. Unlike the more complex and easier-to-use method of analyzing the movements of the electronic particles within range and simultaneously copying them into the back of the squishy brain's head, this was a very basic function - it was so much easier to accept direct signals, waves, transmissions and the like than it was to sneak into electronics via electromagnetism, or search out for the patterns that came together to form some kind of message.
For a brief moment, Kete was essentially a radio antenna. It took things in and recorded them, simple as that - and with nothing else to do besides rebooting, that hyper-advanced processor was happy to get right to work on whatever it could muster the resources to do.
"ÉDBG-9B 08 F9 AC D3 72 FC 41-locref.and.257.175.893.25891;marg.38-६Þű«Hײ$î1Ư>5ߦñ@¶"
It was all quite routine. Signals like that came in all the time, and contributed to the white noise, the electromagnetic atmosphere that Kete lived within. This basic level of the eye was, in a sense, designed to handle all that background noise, to keep it from getting overwhelming and overstuffing the helpless brain with noise and chaos.
But still, the Devil's Eye was no ordinary machine. It in itself was by no means sentient or feeling. In itself, it was simply a machine. But the integration with that human brain, with the squishy thing that felt and spoke and thought - it could, on occasion, produce an effect in the machine very closely resembling insight. Right now, that string of meaningless garble seemed, for some reason that only the lofty organic department could possibly comprehend, very important to the overall scheme of operation. So it was filed away into memory. One insignificant little message from some indeterminate void between worlds.
But even as the eye rebooted its inner services, the connections between it and the organic squishy brain were being restored erratically. It was largely on the part of the squishy bit in this case, since the body would need to remember that the eye was in fact a part of it, and not some foreign invader. It was part of the reason why, for a while before hand, everything had seemed like a foreign invader. Such an enemy, after all, had infiltrated the entire brain.
But the brain was coming around now, remembering what the eye was and how very, very desperately they needed each other.
Sitting there on the couch, still trembling, eyes downcast at the marbled floor beneath his feet, blood on his fingers and face, hair in his eyes and dampened with tears - suddenly, he blurted in a shaky, unsteady, half-mumbled voice "I-I'ms-sorr..."
Click. Abruptly Kete was painfully aware of his total inability to form coherent speech. He was also painfully aware that it was a horrendous weakness, and pathetic, and...
If he was offered the whiskey again, he would only stare with blank semi-perplexity at it.
Click. There was blood on his face. He knew that already, but suddenly he was distinctly displeased with the fact. On his fingers, too. That wasn't where blood was supposed to be. He gingerly brushed the thumb-side of the less bloodstained hand along where the most blood felt to be, immediately regretted it and winced visibly. Stupid.
It mattered little - even now it was beginning to dry. He left his hands in his lap, resting limply upon each other. An ear flicked.
Click. If Nirix had sat down next to Kete, he would almost immediately allow himself to sort of tilt to the side and lean on her shoulder, possibly nuzzling very timidly into the arm with the side of his face that didn't hurt.
Should he try talking yet? He tried to think of whether or not he could do that yet, but wasn't finding the data.
Now the eye really got to business. Like industrial worklights thumping on linearly along the line, one by one the eye began to regather and nurture the connections integrating it with the senses. It had already gotten the primary program up and running, but there had been nothing for the squishy brain to gain from it. Sensory input, a super fast study and simultaneous copying of all the movements about the electromagnetic plane which surrounded him. It had begun to work its way into the ship systems - not doing anything, and completely undetectable, because it only watched from where it sat. Nothing went into the computers - the Eye merely watched. That's what eyes were for.
Click.
He was looking down into a pool of deep, crystalline amber. Now there was the ghost - the implication of a sharp warmth in his throat. Initially unsettling, but the feeling passed quickly enough. His hands did not leave his lap. How was he holding the glass?
Now he was in two places. There were his hands, but no glass.
And now he was in three. Another pair of hands. From there, he could see himself and Nirix. Was he twice? No, he was just spread out. It was supposed to be that way. That's right. It was another good thing, another good feeling. He could smell blood, taste it too - those were less good. Ungood. Unpleasant. Not too much though. Positive was outweighing negative. It was okay.
He was more consistently nuzzling into Nirix now, obviously comforted by her nearness and the physical contact with another living person.
Click. That's what he was forgetting - names. People had names. Maybe he should try some words.
"S..sorry bou'that Ny'." He said, meekly. He had used her nickname. "I, uh..." But that was about all he could muster for the time being. How frustrating that even when his thoughts were beginning to clear up, even when he was beginning to regain a sense of self and his surroundings, his speech was so crippled. It was the side effect of the mechanisms within the eye which could process the human speech in the context of electrons and computers and intentions. It had been so vague.
Kete blinked - he had been blinking, though at odd intervals and somewhat more forcefully than normal. Occasionally there was the meagerest shake of the head, as if he was asleep and trying to shake a gnat off his nose. Eyes would close tightly for a few seconds at a time, flutter open. The trembling had died down, at least.
With the return of basic memory functions, one insignificant part of the back of his head was going on about something that was important - but it was not nearly loud enough and he was not nearly functional enough to make any use of it, not quite yet.
He wanted her to put an arm around him, if she hadn't already. There was a chill now, falling lazily downward and affecting only him. The trembling had lessened, but one more visible shiver could be felt.
Dad had never done anything like that, he realized absently, almost numbly.
Maybe it had been the dreamlike reliving of it. It had been so long. He was just barely starting to remember exactly what he had gone through in the past ten or twenty minutes, and eventually he would recall it all in perfect, horrifying clearness. And he would have to bury it beneath forgetfulness and wilful denial. But maybe it had been the white, the cold, the terror - maybe that's why he found himself reliving the chill. The cold air that seemed only to bother him. Nobody would get near enough to sympathize, he had to assume the coats were warmer than they looked.
But the cold. No, it was more than the cold. It was the distance. The vast, expansive emptiness between him and anyone else. Even though their thoughts and their eyes came to him sporadically, what good was that? It was disorienting and disturbing. But the distance was the worst. The isolation. The sober, heart wrenching certainty that no matter what he did or said, no matter how hard he tried, nobody else was going to come near him. He was like a magnet, poles matched, an impassable forcefield between him and human contact. Night-cycles where, if only, if only someone would sit beside him, touch his arm, anything - then he would know that he was really there, that it wasn't a dream, that he really did exist and he wasn't some ghost who forever hovered in the infinite, desolate inability to feel warm, to feel the presence of someone else.
But he was.
He was an insignificant non-entity, unworthy of attention, not worth so much as a passing glance. He was cold and alone and that's all he would ever be, and no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he begged, nobody was coming. No matter how desperate he became, it was always the same. Always the same.
He shivered again, tensed noticeably, bit a lip, though not too hard. He pressed into her, hands in lap, eyes downcast to marble floor, tried to stop shaking.
Gradually, so very gradually he realized, in wonder-stricken stupor buried beneath numbness and placid disconnection, something that did not, and would not fully register.
He wasn't actually cold right now.
He didn't have to be.
Christofer had hit his face onto something during their fall or some other part of the escape, not too harshly, but it was enough to get the damage showing on his face. Gums that held tightly onto his teeth - or fangs rather - were slightly on the redder side, 'burning' almost. Some blood would sip out between the teeth, getting the outside of his mouth stained and his lips redder in color. He was in no way dead though, just that his body had not enjoyed their little trip. But other than that, the canid seemed to having been able to get away without much harm - probably thanks to Kallenger, but who knows.
He was slowly waking up to the slow brushing motion against his head, fingers reaching through his hair. Ears would flicker lightly before pulling themselves backwards, out of the way. Fingers stretched, folded back around to slowly take a grip of anything nearby, arms pulled lightly back as the shoulders stiffened and neck turned as if the German was stretching. Mostly oblivious to the whole situation, he'd slowly open his eyes, colored the darker shade of turquoise as he lifted his head, moving to having his upper body lay with his chest down while the lower half continued being sideways.
Some red splatters were spread onto the floor as he coughed. Probably not the best thing to do if someone was indeed tracking them, but the canid couldn't help it. His body felt rather stiff, the cold floor not helping the cause, instead making him feel like he hadn't really moved at all in days.
Half opened eyes seeked out familiar faces. He couldn't separate Iril from a rock with his foggy vision, not used to the dark yet. Cox he had barely seen before, so he couldn't tell who they were and where they were. Papyus was a complete stranger of whom he had no working memory of. So it was rather safe to say Kallenger was the only person he recognized, and it didn't take him too long to find her as he was practically leaning on her for the time being. His hands, almost like a reflex of sorts, would wrap themselves around Roya's working one. For what reason? One could only wonder, though it might have been some unconscious way of his to tell her that he was awake and he was there with her now. It was a soft grip though, not a pull by any means.
".... Roy...?" a quiet voice asked, "... Are you ok...?" As his vision slowly stabilized, it would come apparent to him that the woman was not in her best condition. He could feel some warmth radiating from those parts of her that were pained, not that he could explain why there was such a feelig coming from them, but her face was enough to tell him that she was not completelly unharmed, not emotionally nor physically. "....... You look beaten....."
The canid would not reach out to feel the pained parts, not wanting to risk it feeling awkward or receiving any other negative reactions. Instead he'd slowly let his hands slide off from around her as he took his time getting up on his shaky legs, trying to get a feel of the ground as well as to get the blood running in his legs.
He'd fetch some of the so called flashlights, recognizing them as some 'common technology' that even he understood. Others had probably taken one for themselves already, but seemingly as Kallenger wasn't moving, the German could only assume that she didn't have one yet and handed her the remaining light upon returning to sit next to her.
Before that though, his slightly more sencitive nose would pick up something. A foul smell. Like something very rotten, left sitting on the side for far too long and no-one dared touch it to even consider trying to take it to the trash. Nose wrinkled as he stared to the direction where he thought the smell was coming from. The canid tood still, hands still stuck in the motion of picking up the remaining lights while his neck had turned so that he could face the darkness that contained the smell that reeked somewhere back there. Iril might have had some sensors or such to be able to tell the smell apart from the other smells lingering in the air, most of them somewhat damp and moist. Kallenger and the others most likely had no such luxury of telling them apart unless their sences had somehow been tampered with.
Ears perked up, some of the fur in his hair was raising up, but he'd not dare move the light to face that direction. He felt slightl urge to check it out, but it was better to leave it, and so he'd back away towards the others, fur slowly returning to its original state.
"Do you need something...? I don't know if we have first aid..." He'd ask as he slowly kneeled down next to the shorthaired woman, holding out the flashlight for her. ".... Will you be fine...?"
Eyes, neon yellow in shade, scanned through the now a little more lit room, stopping to look at each of the party members. Quite the crew they had there, slightly spooky people and beings. Christofer would stick to the safe company of Royanna for now, maybe he'd warm up to the others eventually, but he didn't feel too good about it at the moment.
For the time being, he'd sit down near Kallenger, curling his tail around her feet and supporting her back with the rest of his being...
For now her drink sat unattended.
Curiosity had gotten the Eoclu to move around and search for a medical kit. Turning a brief corner and rushing through some cabinets, Nirix eventually found that which she seeked and proceeded to return to her very unresponsive Da'len. Sitting down, she opened the kit with skilled hands, lavender eyes skimming the contents before-
Oh.
Pausing in the middle of her motions, Nirix blinked as she was suddenly very aware of Kete nuzzling against her arm. Letting a small smile grace her features, Nirix continued in her work and took what she thought was needed. Turning towards Ketin, she began to clean up his scratches and small injuries with what she deemed was gentle hands before finishing and handing him his own shot glass of whiskey.
Returning the kit back to the cabinet and eventually sitting back down, Nirix sat and reflected on what this next mission would be like until her own ear twitched at the barely audible sound of Ketin voice. He was managing to speak now? That definitely was a good sign, right?
"Welcome to the land of the living, Da'len," Nirix tried to make light of Kete's situation, the whiskey seemed to be doing wonders to her personality. She was less...broody and more loose. It probably wasn't the best of state of being for her, granted that the Assassin did have a job to do once she hit the ground.
But right now, Nirix was really really enjoying this drink.
"We should be in the Daedlus space port in thirty minutes, so I guess I should-"
Words were cut off as the nuzzling and trembling continued and the Eoclu felt the need to be closer to Ketin. She had only really started talking to fill in the silence that had fallen between the three of them. With Kampfer tending to the ship's controls and Ketin lost in...whatever his eye had put him through, Nirix had felt it was best to keep quiet until something happened. But this was different, Kete was different-special to her.
Downing whatever was left in her glass, she ignored the burn in her throat and wrapped her arm Ketin.
"It will be alright Da'len, I'll make things better..." She muttered to help soothe him more. Hopefully it would work.
Curiosity had gotten the Eoclu to move around and search for a medical kit. Turning a brief corner and rushing through some cabinets, Nirix eventually found that which she seeked and proceeded to return to her very unresponsive Da'len. Sitting down, she opened the kit with skilled hands, lavender eyes skimming the contents before-
Oh.
Pausing in the middle of her motions, Nirix blinked as she was suddenly very aware of Kete nuzzling against her arm. Letting a small smile grace her features, Nirix continued in her work and took what she thought was needed. Turning towards Ketin, she began to clean up his scratches and small injuries with what she deemed was gentle hands before finishing and handing him his own shot glass of whiskey.
Returning the kit back to the cabinet and eventually sitting back down, Nirix sat and reflected on what this next mission would be like until her own ear twitched at the barely audible sound of Ketin voice. He was managing to speak now? That definitely was a good sign, right?
"Welcome to the land of the living, Da'len," Nirix tried to make light of Kete's situation, the whiskey seemed to be doing wonders to her personality. She was less...broody and more loose. It probably wasn't the best of state of being for her, granted that the Assassin did have a job to do once she hit the ground.
But right now, Nirix was really really enjoying this drink.
"We should be in the Daedlus space port in thirty minutes, so I guess I should-"
Words were cut off as the nuzzling and trembling continued and the Eoclu felt the need to be closer to Ketin. She had only really started talking to fill in the silence that had fallen between the three of them. With Kampfer tending to the ship's controls and Ketin lost in...whatever his eye had put him through, Nirix had felt it was best to keep quiet until something happened. But this was different, Kete was different-special to her.
Downing whatever was left in her glass, she ignored the burn in her throat and wrapped her arm Ketin.
"It will be alright Da'len, I'll make things better..." She muttered to help soothe him more. Hopefully it would work.
Groaning loudly from where she lay, Helen sits up slowly as she comes back out of her surprise 'nap'. Taking stock of herself and her gear as she gets up Helen looks at her wrist comm, which was now off and hanging from it's retaining cord. Her rifle was in much the same state, hanging from her waist like dead weight. Fortunately her VISR goggles were intact
Moving to stand beside Kallenger, Helen says tired tone "I-I'm fine ma'am. I think my nose is busted though...feels like it's bleeding...don't think it's too bad though." Activating her armors shoulder light, Helen begins to survey the hanger as well "An old airbase? That means....medbay will be...Far right side of the hanger. Hallway...A-five? Most air bases that we have discovered are laid out almost identically save for the oldest ones."
Thanks to the light coming from the various flashlights now on, one good look would show the right lower half of Helen's face was covered in blood. She had definitely hit Iril hard. Noting Christofer's coughing as well as Kallenger's general state Helen speaks to Kallenger with a sense of urgency "Ma'am, we need to get you and your aide to medbay and taken care of...."
Moving to stand beside Kallenger, Helen says tired tone "I-I'm fine ma'am. I think my nose is busted though...feels like it's bleeding...don't think it's too bad though." Activating her armors shoulder light, Helen begins to survey the hanger as well "An old airbase? That means....medbay will be...Far right side of the hanger. Hallway...A-five? Most air bases that we have discovered are laid out almost identically save for the oldest ones."
Thanks to the light coming from the various flashlights now on, one good look would show the right lower half of Helen's face was covered in blood. She had definitely hit Iril hard. Noting Christofer's coughing as well as Kallenger's general state Helen speaks to Kallenger with a sense of urgency "Ma'am, we need to get you and your aide to medbay and taken care of...."
Kampfer flicked a few switches and looks on his monitors as he makes his descent to the space station, a classic spiral shape that large cruisers park themselves and small hangers underneath for smaller transport. "You know vhat to do Loki" he says as he hears the bot snicker with laughter as he went towards one of the opened hangers protected by a transparent shield that make sure's the oxygen doesn't escape into the vacuum of space and make sure it was clear for them to land. Once he got the okay signal form Loki, he quick made his way towards the hanger. As he makes his approach, his personal carrier Overlordfinally warped in a couple of lightyears away waiting for its master's return. "Coming in for a landing" he says as he flicks some switches with the landing gear deployed as he coughs up some blood "Damn" he says under his breath.
They soon land in the hanger and doors open, once in the hanger, they would notice a bunch of dead guards and workers, but Loki is going around dumping the bodies into space so no one would ask any questions at the moment. The invisibility cloak went off and so Kampfer got up from his chair and looks at the two and says "Vell zis is vhere ve say goodbye" his face tired and nor not to happy to leave Ketin, but he understands he'll be safe with Nirix.
In the abandon bunker and with rapier in hand, Papyus scans over the place and says "Kellenger if those soldiers tried to confuse you by telling you that they are your allies and that they set up that ambush, I'm pretty sure they know about this place. She then looks at the special agent, seeing that she was hurt badly, she pulls out a stim like syringe and says to her "Hold still" as she puts the syringe into her bum leg. It's won't fix her leg, but she should be able to only walk for a certain amount of time, possibly just enough to the med area, a cocktail full of drugs and adrenaline in her that should make her limb work again for a short time. "Now we can just stay here, I'll take point, Helen you come with me since you know this place. She then looks at Iril and says "You shall cover the rear since your eye is one giant flood light, which will help us navigate this place . She then gazes at Toffi and says "You support Kellenger if she needs it, you two will be in between the gently giant robot and Ms. Cox" and then she turns around with rapier in hand she points forward and says "Lets move out to the med bay!" and begins to head into darkness.
They soon land in the hanger and doors open, once in the hanger, they would notice a bunch of dead guards and workers, but Loki is going around dumping the bodies into space so no one would ask any questions at the moment. The invisibility cloak went off and so Kampfer got up from his chair and looks at the two and says "Vell zis is vhere ve say goodbye" his face tired and nor not to happy to leave Ketin, but he understands he'll be safe with Nirix.
In the abandon bunker and with rapier in hand, Papyus scans over the place and says "Kellenger if those soldiers tried to confuse you by telling you that they are your allies and that they set up that ambush, I'm pretty sure they know about this place. She then looks at the special agent, seeing that she was hurt badly, she pulls out a stim like syringe and says to her "Hold still" as she puts the syringe into her bum leg. It's won't fix her leg, but she should be able to only walk for a certain amount of time, possibly just enough to the med area, a cocktail full of drugs and adrenaline in her that should make her limb work again for a short time. "Now we can just stay here, I'll take point, Helen you come with me since you know this place. She then looks at Iril and says "You shall cover the rear since your eye is one giant flood light, which will help us navigate this place . She then gazes at Toffi and says "You support Kellenger if she needs it, you two will be in between the gently giant robot and Ms. Cox" and then she turns around with rapier in hand she points forward and says "Lets move out to the med bay!" and begins to head into darkness.
Iril turned to face Kallenger.
"It's Iril. And... sorry..."
"I've no such function.
Iril was simply too old to have such a sophisticated self-repair program. If she had been made later on in the span of time, she might have something along the lines of what Kallenger suggested, but Iril concluded that even if she was, a prototype robot would have no need of any self-repair system. Unless she could find a compatible right arm, she was just going to have to deal with having only one.
Iril shined her light around the landing spot, checking on the status of everyone who had fell down the hole with her. It seemed that they all had survived the journey so far, but were in poor condition from the fight and fall... especially Kallenger. There were red splotches on the floor and red running down faces here and there. Iril didn't recognize the substance, but she recognized the urgency.
"Currently... Worry about yourself." It seemed that everybody had taken notice by now anyways, Kallenger needed medical aid right away. In fact, most everybody was in need of some attention.
An order from Papyus registered in her system. Stay in the back? Well, alright. Papyus did have a point about Iril's eye being the largest light available to them. Iril simply peering down the hallway that Papyus started walking down illuminated a good distance ahead of her, and having Iril in the back meant that anyone who decided to follow through the hole would have to answer to her.
Though, if anything was to attack her wounded allies from the front, Iril would be sure to step up and take whatever damage that would be aimed towards her new friends.
Keeping the rear secure, Iril followed the group into the tunnels of the air base.
It couldn't be that bad down here, could it?
"It's Iril. And... sorry..."
"I've no such function.
Iril was simply too old to have such a sophisticated self-repair program. If she had been made later on in the span of time, she might have something along the lines of what Kallenger suggested, but Iril concluded that even if she was, a prototype robot would have no need of any self-repair system. Unless she could find a compatible right arm, she was just going to have to deal with having only one.
Iril shined her light around the landing spot, checking on the status of everyone who had fell down the hole with her. It seemed that they all had survived the journey so far, but were in poor condition from the fight and fall... especially Kallenger. There were red splotches on the floor and red running down faces here and there. Iril didn't recognize the substance, but she recognized the urgency.
"Currently... Worry about yourself." It seemed that everybody had taken notice by now anyways, Kallenger needed medical aid right away. In fact, most everybody was in need of some attention.
An order from Papyus registered in her system. Stay in the back? Well, alright. Papyus did have a point about Iril's eye being the largest light available to them. Iril simply peering down the hallway that Papyus started walking down illuminated a good distance ahead of her, and having Iril in the back meant that anyone who decided to follow through the hole would have to answer to her.
Though, if anything was to attack her wounded allies from the front, Iril would be sure to step up and take whatever damage that would be aimed towards her new friends.
Keeping the rear secure, Iril followed the group into the tunnels of the air base.
It couldn't be that bad down here, could it?
"Oh Sh***!" Jack yells out once they came out of warp and soon found himself and his scrap of twisted metal ship right in front of the planet Ardella, the planet taking up most of the entire viewing port as he looking out on his captian's chair. He held on it as Zentra says "Impact imminent" Jack shook his head replies "No sh**" as the ship hits the atmosphere, burning up as pieces of the ship break apart. Soon just a few miles away from all the other commotion a loud bang can be heard as the ship explodes sending the rest of the scrap metal everywhere. Out the rumble a dark hand appeared and soon Jack pulled himself out of the rumble and made sure he had have his weapons on hand, especially the plasma battleaxe. As he brushes the debris and dust off, Zentra came back on and says "I recommend you don't do that again" Jack laughed and said "Nothing ventured nothing gained, hows the suit because I feel fine" Zentra gave a few minute before replying "Minimal damage detected...soul fist online, desecrate online, suit switch online, Dead again, online" as she read off his abilities and systems, Jack continue in one direction, unknown to the dangers that await him.
Kete had finally ceased trembling. An arm around his shoulders, he more than contentedly snuggled up to the woman's side.
"L-land of...the living, huh?" He said, seeming to focus very hard on making the words come out right. "Ne...neat place."
And there it was again, the feeling of a weight off his shoulders that he'd no notion of before. It wasn't even conscious, just a sudden easing of underlying tension that, for all he knew, was entirely coincidental. But to know that it wasn't all on him to keep everyone safe - even more, to know that there was someone who would be there to wrap an arm around his shoulders when his whole frame of being had fallen apart - that was a contented elation beyond description.
Inevitably, the foxkin nodded off for a few minutes. This was convenient for the eye, allowing it freedom from conscious concerns, letting it focus on getting itself reintegrated with the brain, sorting itself out and back into working order. It was also, as barely a footnote, able to commit a little string of code to hard memory. Some lower process had said it was important, so the higher process saw no reason to argue the point and filed it away.
When he did awaken, despite the nap having been only a few minutes, Kete felt much better. He could focus now - sort of - a dizzy, vague kind of focus, but better than the virtual mindlessness he recalled facing not too long prior.
His senses had returned, connections bridged and healthy. His own eyes were more focused lenses, and he was again seeing with perfect naturalness through the other eyes nearby. The ship had become a part of him too - it was all so normal that he barely realized.
And yet he gave a shudder as for an instant, the memory of what he had gone through flashed through his mind. It was a miserably unfair thing for Kete to remember the experience with almost perfect clarity - terribly ironic, all things considered.
But it was over now, and he could keep it at bay, at least for a while. Surely if he could find something else to focus on, he wouldn't have to dwell on the ghosts of remembered panic.
Having opened his eyes but stayed in his nuzzled-up position, Kete glanced to his hands, dimly recalled wiping them down when Nirix had tended his wounds. He dimly remembered the wounds, but figured it would be best not to go poking at them. With all the blood gone, they were really very minor. One small bandage would have been placed across his temple where one of the worse had been, but the remainder simply constituted shallow scratches.
He was much too comfortable to prove enthusiastic about the concept of moving, but Kampfer was maneuvering the ship into the Daedalus orbital spaceport and it would be time to go.
Good.
Regretfully, Kete at last stirred, squirmed around some, and finally stood. It took him a couple seconds to regain his balance, a head-rush seeming to overtake him for a short moment. He leaned almost perilously to one side, but managed to regain his footing before hurting himself again.
He made his way to where his coat had been tossed over a chair, shrugged it on happily - yes, he did seem at least pleasantly content now. Tired and a little dazed, but there was a faint smile playing at his lips and ears no longer lay flat. Giving a compulsory tug at his lapels, Kete was ready to go.
And the vessel doors opened to one of the hangar bays aboard the Daedalus Spaceport, and immediately Kete's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. There was one of Kampfer's robots, casually disposing of bodies via airlocks. The smile was gone. He had yet to actually look at Kampfer once since waking up. Now, stepping off the gangplank and onto the station proper, he turned toward the white haired man and gave him a sad, angry look which read both heartbreaking betrayal - and bitter, resentful hate.
"Yeah, bye Kampfer." He said, almost spat. Vindictive and acidic spite. "Sorry about mistaking you for someone with compassion. Have fun with your operation."
They had seen him burst out in anger before - but the cold, hateful, resentful words and low, glowering glare were almost even more alien to the kid. His ears had gone down again after seeing the state of the spaceport - or, rather, the state of the people there.
With hands shoved into pockets, Kete turned his back to Grimlock Kampfer and took toward the transfer ports on the opposite end of the dock. He kept his head low, eyes on the floor, not looking at anything around him. Naturally of course, he would stick very close to Nirix - not like they could really get separated in a place in this state, and they would need to share a shuttle to the surface either way. Kete had mentioned having a friend in the far Eastern city of Ronin, where Nirix was banking on him staying while she took care of her client - but she wouldn't be able to get rid of him until the surface, at least.
Really she wouldn't be able to get rid of him at all.
If any of Kampfer's robots approached him or Nirix, there would be a startlingly hostile response, and a viciously snapped demand to stay away from him or to get lost.
They were the only two on the shuttle - it was automated, launching with the push of a button. A buggy little thing, with wide windows and relatively comfortable seats. Already, all he could imagine was another planet taken over by the Kampfer forces like Earth City had been. Fire and the hellish red glow that followed the tide of war and massacre. He sat very close to Nirix, half-leaning into her for the duration of the trip down.
Luckily, such was not the case.
Kete did not get a good look at the city from above - not for lack of a good view, but for eyes focused on the thinly carpeted floor. Best to forget about it. Don't think about it. Don't dwell on it. Any of it. Just focus on, on...
On that code.
A background nagging of something important finally hit him - what he had been doing before Kampfer went and disabled the eye. It hit him in a surge of emotion. That code, that signal, which to anyone else was merely letters and symbols and numbers - but to him was the dying cries of utter desperation, of one who was so near the brink of non-existence. Urgency welled up inside him again, and abruptly he was searching for it again. How far had they gone since he had blacked out? Would he still be able to hear it? What did those numbers actually mean? He knew they were important, but couldn't figure out what to do with them. Even going through the shuttle's aethernet router and glancing over Galactigoggles he couldn't find out exactly what the string meant.
But then - the eye might know. Even if the meaning of the string was beyond his own comprehension, the short-term memory of the eye might still recall where that code had been intended to be routed to. He was going to put it into the ship, wherever the eye had decided it should go. Maybe he could do that again - he was going to need some satellites.
Router - overview of the Planetary Capitol and...bingo. Zoom in, redirect to location analysis - Capitol Orbital Security. Finally, a broad smile began to creep across Kete's face. Good, there might still be a chance. Whatever had sent that signal needed help, or it was going to die. Not deactivate, not shut down, not to Kete. To Kete, it was going to die if he didn't help it somehow - and he wasn't sure exactly how he could help it - but he would figure it out.
The shuttle landed in the same place it landed every time - one of a few dozen identical ports lined up on the planetside shuttleport toward the southern edge of the Capitol City. Kete hadn't bothered to note what the city's actual name was, nor did he have any idea of what the city was like in general. Nirix had been here before, she might know, but presently the issue at hand was saving a...a life?
Another glance at the overhead view. They were in the portion of the city which, just like most portside districts, was not exactly the most friendly and welcoming place - nor was it a den of debauchery either. Not run-down, but low-income. Lots of little shops with open storefronts selling goods and wares. Lots of neon lights that, given the time of day being around noon Local Planetary Time, were not illuminated. Dark, steely, slate colors dominated the buildings here. Roads were narrow and there were more pedestrians than vehicles.
They stepped off the shuttle, and Kete felt better right away. There were people around. There was technology. The eye dutifully recorded and simultaneously copied the movements of the electromagnetic field, and Kete's consciousness encompassed fifty feet, dozens of eyes, innumerable bits of technology which had become part of him for so long as they were within his range. Even the useless bits were a godsend now.
The broad smile was more obvious now. He could see again, he could think.
Before Nirix had the chance to say anything, Kete grabbed her hand and tugged her along, getting moving almost immediately after stepping onto solid ground.
"Hey, c'mon I need your help with somethin'. Somethin' real important." He sounded excited, eager - a welcome change from the unresponsive daze he had been in before.
They passed a vendor selling, among other things, sunglasses. Kete plucked two pairs from the rack as they went by - stole them as if it were nothing at all - and was , of course, not caught. Still moving, he half-turned around to reach up and put one pair onto Nirix's face - again, before she really had any chance at stopping him. This was something of an impressive feat, to put sunglasses on someone else's face without poking them in the eye and while moving, but it was the exact sort of thing that Kete was so good at, thanks to seeing as naturally through her eyes as he did his own. As easy as plucking the wares from an unsuspecting shopkeep thanks to the one-hundred percent certainty that he wasn't looking.
"Here, put these on." He said, and then slipped on his own pair. They were both the same - solid black, totally opaque, rectangular lenses that were curved at the edge. Nothing special, but spiffy.
And he weaved through the crowd, never letting go of Nirix's hand, headed - unbeknownst to his willing-or-otherwise companion - for the building that was Capitol Orbital Security. Specifically, to the satellite array atop the building, where there would be the equipment necessary to imput that code and figure out exactly what it was. He was sure of it.
Kallenger's part after I sleep~
"L-land of...the living, huh?" He said, seeming to focus very hard on making the words come out right. "Ne...neat place."
And there it was again, the feeling of a weight off his shoulders that he'd no notion of before. It wasn't even conscious, just a sudden easing of underlying tension that, for all he knew, was entirely coincidental. But to know that it wasn't all on him to keep everyone safe - even more, to know that there was someone who would be there to wrap an arm around his shoulders when his whole frame of being had fallen apart - that was a contented elation beyond description.
Inevitably, the foxkin nodded off for a few minutes. This was convenient for the eye, allowing it freedom from conscious concerns, letting it focus on getting itself reintegrated with the brain, sorting itself out and back into working order. It was also, as barely a footnote, able to commit a little string of code to hard memory. Some lower process had said it was important, so the higher process saw no reason to argue the point and filed it away.
When he did awaken, despite the nap having been only a few minutes, Kete felt much better. He could focus now - sort of - a dizzy, vague kind of focus, but better than the virtual mindlessness he recalled facing not too long prior.
His senses had returned, connections bridged and healthy. His own eyes were more focused lenses, and he was again seeing with perfect naturalness through the other eyes nearby. The ship had become a part of him too - it was all so normal that he barely realized.
And yet he gave a shudder as for an instant, the memory of what he had gone through flashed through his mind. It was a miserably unfair thing for Kete to remember the experience with almost perfect clarity - terribly ironic, all things considered.
But it was over now, and he could keep it at bay, at least for a while. Surely if he could find something else to focus on, he wouldn't have to dwell on the ghosts of remembered panic.
Having opened his eyes but stayed in his nuzzled-up position, Kete glanced to his hands, dimly recalled wiping them down when Nirix had tended his wounds. He dimly remembered the wounds, but figured it would be best not to go poking at them. With all the blood gone, they were really very minor. One small bandage would have been placed across his temple where one of the worse had been, but the remainder simply constituted shallow scratches.
He was much too comfortable to prove enthusiastic about the concept of moving, but Kampfer was maneuvering the ship into the Daedalus orbital spaceport and it would be time to go.
Good.
Regretfully, Kete at last stirred, squirmed around some, and finally stood. It took him a couple seconds to regain his balance, a head-rush seeming to overtake him for a short moment. He leaned almost perilously to one side, but managed to regain his footing before hurting himself again.
He made his way to where his coat had been tossed over a chair, shrugged it on happily - yes, he did seem at least pleasantly content now. Tired and a little dazed, but there was a faint smile playing at his lips and ears no longer lay flat. Giving a compulsory tug at his lapels, Kete was ready to go.
And the vessel doors opened to one of the hangar bays aboard the Daedalus Spaceport, and immediately Kete's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. There was one of Kampfer's robots, casually disposing of bodies via airlocks. The smile was gone. He had yet to actually look at Kampfer once since waking up. Now, stepping off the gangplank and onto the station proper, he turned toward the white haired man and gave him a sad, angry look which read both heartbreaking betrayal - and bitter, resentful hate.
"Yeah, bye Kampfer." He said, almost spat. Vindictive and acidic spite. "Sorry about mistaking you for someone with compassion. Have fun with your operation."
They had seen him burst out in anger before - but the cold, hateful, resentful words and low, glowering glare were almost even more alien to the kid. His ears had gone down again after seeing the state of the spaceport - or, rather, the state of the people there.
With hands shoved into pockets, Kete turned his back to Grimlock Kampfer and took toward the transfer ports on the opposite end of the dock. He kept his head low, eyes on the floor, not looking at anything around him. Naturally of course, he would stick very close to Nirix - not like they could really get separated in a place in this state, and they would need to share a shuttle to the surface either way. Kete had mentioned having a friend in the far Eastern city of Ronin, where Nirix was banking on him staying while she took care of her client - but she wouldn't be able to get rid of him until the surface, at least.
Really she wouldn't be able to get rid of him at all.
If any of Kampfer's robots approached him or Nirix, there would be a startlingly hostile response, and a viciously snapped demand to stay away from him or to get lost.
They were the only two on the shuttle - it was automated, launching with the push of a button. A buggy little thing, with wide windows and relatively comfortable seats. Already, all he could imagine was another planet taken over by the Kampfer forces like Earth City had been. Fire and the hellish red glow that followed the tide of war and massacre. He sat very close to Nirix, half-leaning into her for the duration of the trip down.
Luckily, such was not the case.
Kete did not get a good look at the city from above - not for lack of a good view, but for eyes focused on the thinly carpeted floor. Best to forget about it. Don't think about it. Don't dwell on it. Any of it. Just focus on, on...
On that code.
A background nagging of something important finally hit him - what he had been doing before Kampfer went and disabled the eye. It hit him in a surge of emotion. That code, that signal, which to anyone else was merely letters and symbols and numbers - but to him was the dying cries of utter desperation, of one who was so near the brink of non-existence. Urgency welled up inside him again, and abruptly he was searching for it again. How far had they gone since he had blacked out? Would he still be able to hear it? What did those numbers actually mean? He knew they were important, but couldn't figure out what to do with them. Even going through the shuttle's aethernet router and glancing over Galactigoggles he couldn't find out exactly what the string meant.
But then - the eye might know. Even if the meaning of the string was beyond his own comprehension, the short-term memory of the eye might still recall where that code had been intended to be routed to. He was going to put it into the ship, wherever the eye had decided it should go. Maybe he could do that again - he was going to need some satellites.
Router - overview of the Planetary Capitol and...bingo. Zoom in, redirect to location analysis - Capitol Orbital Security. Finally, a broad smile began to creep across Kete's face. Good, there might still be a chance. Whatever had sent that signal needed help, or it was going to die. Not deactivate, not shut down, not to Kete. To Kete, it was going to die if he didn't help it somehow - and he wasn't sure exactly how he could help it - but he would figure it out.
The shuttle landed in the same place it landed every time - one of a few dozen identical ports lined up on the planetside shuttleport toward the southern edge of the Capitol City. Kete hadn't bothered to note what the city's actual name was, nor did he have any idea of what the city was like in general. Nirix had been here before, she might know, but presently the issue at hand was saving a...a life?
Another glance at the overhead view. They were in the portion of the city which, just like most portside districts, was not exactly the most friendly and welcoming place - nor was it a den of debauchery either. Not run-down, but low-income. Lots of little shops with open storefronts selling goods and wares. Lots of neon lights that, given the time of day being around noon Local Planetary Time, were not illuminated. Dark, steely, slate colors dominated the buildings here. Roads were narrow and there were more pedestrians than vehicles.
They stepped off the shuttle, and Kete felt better right away. There were people around. There was technology. The eye dutifully recorded and simultaneously copied the movements of the electromagnetic field, and Kete's consciousness encompassed fifty feet, dozens of eyes, innumerable bits of technology which had become part of him for so long as they were within his range. Even the useless bits were a godsend now.
The broad smile was more obvious now. He could see again, he could think.
Before Nirix had the chance to say anything, Kete grabbed her hand and tugged her along, getting moving almost immediately after stepping onto solid ground.
"Hey, c'mon I need your help with somethin'. Somethin' real important." He sounded excited, eager - a welcome change from the unresponsive daze he had been in before.
They passed a vendor selling, among other things, sunglasses. Kete plucked two pairs from the rack as they went by - stole them as if it were nothing at all - and was , of course, not caught. Still moving, he half-turned around to reach up and put one pair onto Nirix's face - again, before she really had any chance at stopping him. This was something of an impressive feat, to put sunglasses on someone else's face without poking them in the eye and while moving, but it was the exact sort of thing that Kete was so good at, thanks to seeing as naturally through her eyes as he did his own. As easy as plucking the wares from an unsuspecting shopkeep thanks to the one-hundred percent certainty that he wasn't looking.
"Here, put these on." He said, and then slipped on his own pair. They were both the same - solid black, totally opaque, rectangular lenses that were curved at the edge. Nothing special, but spiffy.
And he weaved through the crowd, never letting go of Nirix's hand, headed - unbeknownst to his willing-or-otherwise companion - for the building that was Capitol Orbital Security. Specifically, to the satellite array atop the building, where there would be the equipment necessary to imput that code and figure out exactly what it was. He was sure of it.
Kallenger's part after I sleep~
Hate. The word that most individual people give when they see the white haired Dimensional Lord, hate. For him, its soon became part of him, every time some would use it, it doesn't really bother him anymore. As he looks at Ketin with his arms across and a blank face towards him, he wasn't surprised by the halfbreed's farewell especially what happens. As Ketin and Nirix left he merely said "Farewell, Ketin Clarke, may you live on, for another 300 years and goodbye Nirix, take care of him for me vill you" and then turned on his heel and went back into his ship and got ready to take off. As for Loki, he wasn't seen taking off nor chucking bodies in the airlock, it was if he vanished into thin air.
As Ketin flew to his awaiting cruiser, he just thought about what did he do wrong. He only went ahead what he felt was the right thing to do. Ketin didn't look too good whatever was trying to get into his head. Or wasn't during events between him and Nirix or even farther back into the base with Glades? All these things went through Kampfer's head as he lands the craft in the hanger of his cruiser and was greeted to a happy and cheery reception from the crew and its captain that was in control. Kampfer gave a faint smile as the captain says "Its good to have you back, my lordship. Vhere are we going now?" his youthful face and cheery attitude masquerading he was just another Z bot. Kampfer says "Set course to ze Dendril home world of Gyro, I'll shall be in my quarters for ze remainder of ze trip, let me know if a problem occurs or ve are zere" The captain nodded and says "Y-yes sir" a little hesitant seeing that Kampfer was a little off.
His quarters had a cozy business feel to it, with a wood desk in the center with a swivel chair, a couple plants in the corner and bedroom in an adjacent room. He sat his desk and stared at the door in which he just entered. After awhile he just slams his head down on the desk and begins to cry. He pulls out one of his drawers and grabs a picture. On the picture on it was him and Maria in her teenage years without all the metal on her body. The lovely young lady and her father smiling for the camera as his claw rested on her head, but obviously didn't care for it since it was her father.
He smiles seeing the picture as tears come down his eyes, wishing to relive those past memories were everything was happy and had a least someone who was happy for him and in turn happy for them. And them being his only daughter. As the ship went into warp, he got up from his desk and went into the bedroom and collapse on the large bed. He kicks off his shoes and cuddles with the picture as for the first time for Kampfer falls asleep because he actually felt tired. For Dimensional lords sleep was optional, but because of the bizarre and out of wack brain patterns on all lords, it wasn't too weird to at least one sleep, but a rarity at that.
As Ketin flew to his awaiting cruiser, he just thought about what did he do wrong. He only went ahead what he felt was the right thing to do. Ketin didn't look too good whatever was trying to get into his head. Or wasn't during events between him and Nirix or even farther back into the base with Glades? All these things went through Kampfer's head as he lands the craft in the hanger of his cruiser and was greeted to a happy and cheery reception from the crew and its captain that was in control. Kampfer gave a faint smile as the captain says "Its good to have you back, my lordship. Vhere are we going now?" his youthful face and cheery attitude masquerading he was just another Z bot. Kampfer says "Set course to ze Dendril home world of Gyro, I'll shall be in my quarters for ze remainder of ze trip, let me know if a problem occurs or ve are zere" The captain nodded and says "Y-yes sir" a little hesitant seeing that Kampfer was a little off.
His quarters had a cozy business feel to it, with a wood desk in the center with a swivel chair, a couple plants in the corner and bedroom in an adjacent room. He sat his desk and stared at the door in which he just entered. After awhile he just slams his head down on the desk and begins to cry. He pulls out one of his drawers and grabs a picture. On the picture on it was him and Maria in her teenage years without all the metal on her body. The lovely young lady and her father smiling for the camera as his claw rested on her head, but obviously didn't care for it since it was her father.
He smiles seeing the picture as tears come down his eyes, wishing to relive those past memories were everything was happy and had a least someone who was happy for him and in turn happy for them. And them being his only daughter. As the ship went into warp, he got up from his desk and went into the bedroom and collapse on the large bed. He kicks off his shoes and cuddles with the picture as for the first time for Kampfer falls asleep because he actually felt tired. For Dimensional lords sleep was optional, but because of the bizarre and out of wack brain patterns on all lords, it wasn't too weird to at least one sleep, but a rarity at that.
Roy?
It had been a long time since anyone had called her that. There had been a love-hate relationship with the name in her youth, stretching between the times where other students in the Imperial Military Academy would tease her about being a boy for her over-short hair, to in her early teens when she decided to embrace the notion, bind her chest and present herself as male for a couple years. It had gone back and forth a few more times - but she found that from Christofer the name sounded affectionate. Almost heartwarming. As if anything could warm the cold steel heart of the Captain of the DEU!
There was a faint pressure on her hand, too. It had been enclosed by that of her companion - that, and his concern for her wellbeing had the miraculous effect of turning the painful scowl she had been presenting into a soft, easy smile.
"Y-yeah, I took a few good ones." She said. A few good hits. Abruptly she was dimly aware of a sharp pain in her chest. A rib? @#$%.
Christofer had gotten unsteadily to his feet now, and was procuring a pair of the worklights from the engineering bench off to the side. Roy shifted around sorely, just a little, into a more comfortable sitting position. She glanced idly at the little wrist comm, which glowed a faint black. That was promising, actually - the EMP from the blasts to the north had totally deactivated it previously. Maybe it was working its way back online? No matter, for the moment it was quite non-functional.
And now he was back, handing her one of the lights which she clicked on and set beside her.
"I'll be fine kid, don't worry." She said.
Helen Cox's reply came just a little late, and there had been urgency in the voice. How bad, she wondered, must she look right now to warrant that? She had only known Cox for a short time, but she couldn't help but feel that she had a pretty good idea of the woman's personality. Or maybe not. She certainly tended to be wrong more often than she was right.
A sidelong glance at the fellow Imperial, the soft smile from moments before having a more dryly smarmy effect for it. "You don't look too hot yourself, sister." She said, most any hint of professionalism staying dutifully away from her low voice. She wanted to tell the soldier that she and Christofer should get medical attention first, that she herself could wait - but they would need to move as a group anyway so it would be a stupid thing to say. She did say a lot of stupid things. Too many stupid things. Best to not say any more stupid things.
The robot had stated it's - her? - name. Iril. The voice was feminine, so Roy would proceed with the female honorific. "Damn good job y'did back there Iril." She said. Complimenting a robot for functioning properly? Why not. Maybe there was more to some robots than she knew. Who knew? She sure didn't. She didn't know much of anything, did she?
Despite it all, Roy couldn't help but glower at Papyrus, though mercifully this expression would go unnoticed due to the darkness and spotty, irregular illumination of the worklights, which darted about as each holder moved. She did not like not being the one in charge - and she was almost willing to actually admit it. Almost. It only served to emphasize her failure as a leader, and worse still it begged the question of whether someone without that natural talent should be leading at all?
No, bull@#$%, of course she was a good leader. She filled a position in the Imperial military that only one, single person could fill. She had trained her entire life to fit this position, and even though she had failed miserably at every turn and eventually gotten her entire company killed...
Best to not think about it. Papyrus wanted to lead the group? Fine. Begrudgingly she admitted to herself that it it made sense - she was the least damaged, for one thing.
Presently, she was having a Stimpak injected into her leg - or, some kind of adrenaline-painkiller which was actually taking effect much more quickly than she would have expected. It was better than the Empire's home-grown chemistry, that was for sure. Nu-Skin my ass. Damn shoulder still ached like a mother@#$%er even once the leg had been reduced from stabbing, furious agony to a dull, throbbing hurt.
Papyrus's plan of action made sense. She was relieved that Cox was familiar with the layout of the place, since she had more of a historian's perspective on these things and wouldn't be much use in the specifics and details.
She wouldn't be much use for anything.
Basic functionality had returned to Kallenger's leg now, which was fantastic. A small part of her wanted to demand that she be given her sword back, but even in her silent bitterness she knew that would be positively petty. What could she do with it? Besides, she wasn't totally helpless. She had the revolver and an indeterminate sum of bullets in the belt at the small of her back. Originally, her shooting arm had been too sore to shoot properly. Now, she had a new precedent of pain to face and the arm didn't seem quite so useless. She might even be able to hit the broad side of a barn now, if she was lucky.
The Kid had wrapped his tail around her feet and she found that sitting up had become easier due to that she was half-leaning on him. The light, tired little smile persisted.
Battle plan, formation, orders. Damn, she hated following orders. Hated it like a plague. She was supposed to be giving orders, not taking them! Again it occurred to her that it was in no way the manner of which she should be allowing herself to think. Damned ego.
Christofer would need to help her to her feet, but one good heave and she had managed to accomplish a standing position. She didn't even need to hang on to anything to stay there - though reaching down to grab the light was risky and tedious. She pulled that off too. Accomplishment! Pinning the light to the lapel of her jacket, she could keep two free hands, which would be good for someone who's leg could give out at any minute. What, had they hit a tendon or something?
The order to 'move out' had been given now. They had a battle plan, yes, a good formation. The Kampfer agent knew what she was doing.
The group had taken a few steps, giving Kallenger enough of a precedent to find that her leg was actually functioning, for the most part. She wouldn't dare try and move at faster than a tired walk, but at least she wouldn't be slowing anyone down.
"That's some good @#$% you gave me P- rgh P-Platypus? What'd you say your name was again?"
It was no wonder that nobody ever really liked Royanna Kalleger. She was curt and insensitive and totally abrasive. A generally unlikable person. Sometimes she realized this, acknowledged it, and sat alone clawing at temples trying to figure out why. Relationships were byproducts born of necessity. That was why Christofer seemed so fond of her, because she had kept him safe - or alive, at least. There was no way in Space it had anything to do with her as a person. But at the moment there was no such concern - if only because she was too distracted by coordinating the tentative process of walking forward.
The icy, damp air hung around them like a heavy fog. The darkness, pierced by the lights that flitted over the surfaces of rusty old ships what had sat for three or four centuries. It wasn't like Imperial tech to rust, even after that long and especially not in such a perfectly sealed environment as this one. The only way in - other than the hole Papyrus had made - would be an old rail system that would take them to yet another underground bunker. They had been very conservative about their air superiority in those days.
And she walked along with the group, very gradually getting a hang of it - not a chance she would reach out to Christofer for help, but it wouldn't necessarily be rejected if it was offered...
Was there a weird smell in the air? No, probably not. Just musty, half-ancient air and a little bit of blood. The residual scent of oil. The utter, stifling, dead silence of a place undisturbed for centuries.
It had been a long time since anyone had called her that. There had been a love-hate relationship with the name in her youth, stretching between the times where other students in the Imperial Military Academy would tease her about being a boy for her over-short hair, to in her early teens when she decided to embrace the notion, bind her chest and present herself as male for a couple years. It had gone back and forth a few more times - but she found that from Christofer the name sounded affectionate. Almost heartwarming. As if anything could warm the cold steel heart of the Captain of the DEU!
There was a faint pressure on her hand, too. It had been enclosed by that of her companion - that, and his concern for her wellbeing had the miraculous effect of turning the painful scowl she had been presenting into a soft, easy smile.
"Y-yeah, I took a few good ones." She said. A few good hits. Abruptly she was dimly aware of a sharp pain in her chest. A rib? @#$%.
Christofer had gotten unsteadily to his feet now, and was procuring a pair of the worklights from the engineering bench off to the side. Roy shifted around sorely, just a little, into a more comfortable sitting position. She glanced idly at the little wrist comm, which glowed a faint black. That was promising, actually - the EMP from the blasts to the north had totally deactivated it previously. Maybe it was working its way back online? No matter, for the moment it was quite non-functional.
And now he was back, handing her one of the lights which she clicked on and set beside her.
"I'll be fine kid, don't worry." She said.
Helen Cox's reply came just a little late, and there had been urgency in the voice. How bad, she wondered, must she look right now to warrant that? She had only known Cox for a short time, but she couldn't help but feel that she had a pretty good idea of the woman's personality. Or maybe not. She certainly tended to be wrong more often than she was right.
A sidelong glance at the fellow Imperial, the soft smile from moments before having a more dryly smarmy effect for it. "You don't look too hot yourself, sister." She said, most any hint of professionalism staying dutifully away from her low voice. She wanted to tell the soldier that she and Christofer should get medical attention first, that she herself could wait - but they would need to move as a group anyway so it would be a stupid thing to say. She did say a lot of stupid things. Too many stupid things. Best to not say any more stupid things.
The robot had stated it's - her? - name. Iril. The voice was feminine, so Roy would proceed with the female honorific. "Damn good job y'did back there Iril." She said. Complimenting a robot for functioning properly? Why not. Maybe there was more to some robots than she knew. Who knew? She sure didn't. She didn't know much of anything, did she?
Despite it all, Roy couldn't help but glower at Papyrus, though mercifully this expression would go unnoticed due to the darkness and spotty, irregular illumination of the worklights, which darted about as each holder moved. She did not like not being the one in charge - and she was almost willing to actually admit it. Almost. It only served to emphasize her failure as a leader, and worse still it begged the question of whether someone without that natural talent should be leading at all?
No, bull@#$%, of course she was a good leader. She filled a position in the Imperial military that only one, single person could fill. She had trained her entire life to fit this position, and even though she had failed miserably at every turn and eventually gotten her entire company killed...
Best to not think about it. Papyrus wanted to lead the group? Fine. Begrudgingly she admitted to herself that it it made sense - she was the least damaged, for one thing.
Presently, she was having a Stimpak injected into her leg - or, some kind of adrenaline-painkiller which was actually taking effect much more quickly than she would have expected. It was better than the Empire's home-grown chemistry, that was for sure. Nu-Skin my ass. Damn shoulder still ached like a mother@#$%er even once the leg had been reduced from stabbing, furious agony to a dull, throbbing hurt.
Papyrus's plan of action made sense. She was relieved that Cox was familiar with the layout of the place, since she had more of a historian's perspective on these things and wouldn't be much use in the specifics and details.
She wouldn't be much use for anything.
Basic functionality had returned to Kallenger's leg now, which was fantastic. A small part of her wanted to demand that she be given her sword back, but even in her silent bitterness she knew that would be positively petty. What could she do with it? Besides, she wasn't totally helpless. She had the revolver and an indeterminate sum of bullets in the belt at the small of her back. Originally, her shooting arm had been too sore to shoot properly. Now, she had a new precedent of pain to face and the arm didn't seem quite so useless. She might even be able to hit the broad side of a barn now, if she was lucky.
The Kid had wrapped his tail around her feet and she found that sitting up had become easier due to that she was half-leaning on him. The light, tired little smile persisted.
Battle plan, formation, orders. Damn, she hated following orders. Hated it like a plague. She was supposed to be giving orders, not taking them! Again it occurred to her that it was in no way the manner of which she should be allowing herself to think. Damned ego.
Christofer would need to help her to her feet, but one good heave and she had managed to accomplish a standing position. She didn't even need to hang on to anything to stay there - though reaching down to grab the light was risky and tedious. She pulled that off too. Accomplishment! Pinning the light to the lapel of her jacket, she could keep two free hands, which would be good for someone who's leg could give out at any minute. What, had they hit a tendon or something?
The order to 'move out' had been given now. They had a battle plan, yes, a good formation. The Kampfer agent knew what she was doing.
The group had taken a few steps, giving Kallenger enough of a precedent to find that her leg was actually functioning, for the most part. She wouldn't dare try and move at faster than a tired walk, but at least she wouldn't be slowing anyone down.
"That's some good @#$% you gave me P- rgh P-Platypus? What'd you say your name was again?"
It was no wonder that nobody ever really liked Royanna Kalleger. She was curt and insensitive and totally abrasive. A generally unlikable person. Sometimes she realized this, acknowledged it, and sat alone clawing at temples trying to figure out why. Relationships were byproducts born of necessity. That was why Christofer seemed so fond of her, because she had kept him safe - or alive, at least. There was no way in Space it had anything to do with her as a person. But at the moment there was no such concern - if only because she was too distracted by coordinating the tentative process of walking forward.
The icy, damp air hung around them like a heavy fog. The darkness, pierced by the lights that flitted over the surfaces of rusty old ships what had sat for three or four centuries. It wasn't like Imperial tech to rust, even after that long and especially not in such a perfectly sealed environment as this one. The only way in - other than the hole Papyrus had made - would be an old rail system that would take them to yet another underground bunker. They had been very conservative about their air superiority in those days.
And she walked along with the group, very gradually getting a hang of it - not a chance she would reach out to Christofer for help, but it wouldn't necessarily be rejected if it was offered...
Was there a weird smell in the air? No, probably not. Just musty, half-ancient air and a little bit of blood. The residual scent of oil. The utter, stifling, dead silence of a place undisturbed for centuries.
Malcom stopped when his terminal started ringing, and displayed this :
GCC EMERGENCY MEETING
IMMEDIATE RESPONSE NECESSARY
PROTOCOL 7-9-9-1-2-3-0 ALPHA EPSILON
Aaron leaned foward, looking over his friend's shoulder.
-Oh, it's them. He simply stated.
Malcom nodded, and dismissed him with a vague wave in his direction, Aaron knew he had to be alone for this type of call.
The soldier left the office, and the door locked itself behind him, suddendly shields began to pop up, now nothing in this god damn universe would be able to hear this conversation.
Malcom hit the "Answer" button, instantly his screen started displaying 12 holograms who were seemingly sitting in a circle, much like the old UN, they were all dressed in some form of grey uniform, the one in the middle wasted no time as she sat up and began yelling at Malcom.
-Aelirisae ? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING ?
Malcom backed off a bit, but recovered quickly.
-I beg your pardon ?
-YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT ! YOUR OPERATION AGAINST THE GE AND KAMPFER !
-Oh.
-Look, I know it has been a hard time for you, but we can not afford to antagonize both, in fact, we probably can't afford to antagonize any of them ! So here's what you're going to do fallenrisa, you'll have to find one way or another to make peace with the Dimensonal Lord, we really can't afford a conflict with such a super power right now, as for the GE, I won't ask you to replace yourself under their command, declare independance, we'll support you, but do not start a war, is that clear ?
-Yes fallenemeria.
-Good, also, call back your fleets, we're going to take care of Aelyn and Solaria, focus on Kampfer, find a way to get in touch with him, and get a peace treaty, or at least a cease fire.
-As you command, I will find a way, can I ask you question ?
-Yes ?
-What about the APEX ? Evidence point out that nobody except GE admiral Malbec knows about it, but we have hit our enemies with multiples APEX bullets, how should we proceed ?
-The APEX is a card that must remain secret as long as possible, even Malbec ignore most of it's capabilities, initiate protocol sequence 9-7-1-1 DELTA FOXTROT.
-At your orders, but why let the GE be ?
-I beg your pardon ?
-Why would we let the GE be ? We could destroy them as we speak, we have the fire power needed !
-We can't afford the attention it will bring upon us, we are secretive enough so that no one except us know of our existence.
-There's one man who know about us.
-This...Person, can't unfortunately be dealt with, he is as useful to us as he could be for our enemy, it's a risk I'm willing to take.
-As you wish.
-Good, this conversation is over, we have things to deal with.
The screen shut down, Malcom gripped his desk so hard that the metal had been crushed, he took a few deep breath before activating the secured channel to the Armstrong, Harry and the flottilas he had sent after Kampfer's forces.
-This is Malcom Green to all C.E.L.L. units currently in deployement, all missions are canceled, all units are to return to their base, repeat, all units, return to your base, all APEX units, you are now reassigned to base Delta, Malcom Green, over and out.
The jungle
Harry looked at his remaining soldiers and the reinforcement from the Armstrong, they were dispersed in the clearing, above the hangar's door, they were placing breaching charges when the message reached Harry.
-Boys, we have new orders, pack up and evacuate, we are falling back !
He earned a few weird looks, but all the soldiers complied without questions, packing up the breaching charges already in place, they then hopped in the gunships that the Armstrong soldiers landed with.
The ships took off in direction of the now immobile battleship in the sky, as they were gaining altitude Harry looked at the burning forest and the clearing where the first shootout had taken place, fortunately a gunship already had evacuated the incapacitated APEX soldiers a few minutes ago, recovering the dispered equipement and the evidences.
A transmission reached him as the distance to the battleship was being reduced at an insane speed.
Special Recon Operative Bravo-Alpha 41 Initiate Protocol 9-7-1-1 DELTA FOXTROT, Clearance ECHO DELTA 45-64-84-69 LIMA INDIA NOVEMBER X-RAY.
Harry sighed before internally typing the protocol, and initiating it.
All the abandonned APEX bullets suddendly "froze" as the APEX suicided and crystalized into metal, letting no evidence left that the APEX even existed.
As soon as the last gunship boarded the battleship, it activated it's atmospheric jump drive, disapearing instantly into hyperspace.
GCC EMERGENCY MEETING
IMMEDIATE RESPONSE NECESSARY
PROTOCOL 7-9-9-1-2-3-0 ALPHA EPSILON
Aaron leaned foward, looking over his friend's shoulder.
-Oh, it's them. He simply stated.
Malcom nodded, and dismissed him with a vague wave in his direction, Aaron knew he had to be alone for this type of call.
The soldier left the office, and the door locked itself behind him, suddendly shields began to pop up, now nothing in this god damn universe would be able to hear this conversation.
Malcom hit the "Answer" button, instantly his screen started displaying 12 holograms who were seemingly sitting in a circle, much like the old UN, they were all dressed in some form of grey uniform, the one in the middle wasted no time as she sat up and began yelling at Malcom.
-Aelirisae ? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING ?
Malcom backed off a bit, but recovered quickly.
-I beg your pardon ?
-YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT ! YOUR OPERATION AGAINST THE GE AND KAMPFER !
-Oh.
-Look, I know it has been a hard time for you, but we can not afford to antagonize both, in fact, we probably can't afford to antagonize any of them ! So here's what you're going to do fallenrisa, you'll have to find one way or another to make peace with the Dimensonal Lord, we really can't afford a conflict with such a super power right now, as for the GE, I won't ask you to replace yourself under their command, declare independance, we'll support you, but do not start a war, is that clear ?
-Yes fallenemeria.
-Good, also, call back your fleets, we're going to take care of Aelyn and Solaria, focus on Kampfer, find a way to get in touch with him, and get a peace treaty, or at least a cease fire.
-As you command, I will find a way, can I ask you question ?
-Yes ?
-What about the APEX ? Evidence point out that nobody except GE admiral Malbec knows about it, but we have hit our enemies with multiples APEX bullets, how should we proceed ?
-The APEX is a card that must remain secret as long as possible, even Malbec ignore most of it's capabilities, initiate protocol sequence 9-7-1-1 DELTA FOXTROT.
-At your orders, but why let the GE be ?
-I beg your pardon ?
-Why would we let the GE be ? We could destroy them as we speak, we have the fire power needed !
-We can't afford the attention it will bring upon us, we are secretive enough so that no one except us know of our existence.
-There's one man who know about us.
-This...Person, can't unfortunately be dealt with, he is as useful to us as he could be for our enemy, it's a risk I'm willing to take.
-As you wish.
-Good, this conversation is over, we have things to deal with.
The screen shut down, Malcom gripped his desk so hard that the metal had been crushed, he took a few deep breath before activating the secured channel to the Armstrong, Harry and the flottilas he had sent after Kampfer's forces.
-This is Malcom Green to all C.E.L.L. units currently in deployement, all missions are canceled, all units are to return to their base, repeat, all units, return to your base, all APEX units, you are now reassigned to base Delta, Malcom Green, over and out.
The jungle
Harry looked at his remaining soldiers and the reinforcement from the Armstrong, they were dispersed in the clearing, above the hangar's door, they were placing breaching charges when the message reached Harry.
-Boys, we have new orders, pack up and evacuate, we are falling back !
He earned a few weird looks, but all the soldiers complied without questions, packing up the breaching charges already in place, they then hopped in the gunships that the Armstrong soldiers landed with.
The ships took off in direction of the now immobile battleship in the sky, as they were gaining altitude Harry looked at the burning forest and the clearing where the first shootout had taken place, fortunately a gunship already had evacuated the incapacitated APEX soldiers a few minutes ago, recovering the dispered equipement and the evidences.
A transmission reached him as the distance to the battleship was being reduced at an insane speed.
Special Recon Operative Bravo-Alpha 41 Initiate Protocol 9-7-1-1 DELTA FOXTROT, Clearance ECHO DELTA 45-64-84-69 LIMA INDIA NOVEMBER X-RAY.
Harry sighed before internally typing the protocol, and initiating it.
All the abandonned APEX bullets suddendly "froze" as the APEX suicided and crystalized into metal, letting no evidence left that the APEX even existed.
As soon as the last gunship boarded the battleship, it activated it's atmospheric jump drive, disapearing instantly into hyperspace.
The colonel chuckled at Royanna astonishment as she lead the group, heeding Cox's directions and scanning anything on the walls or floors that would indicate a direction. She glances over her shoulder at the special agent and says "The miracles of unrestricted science, Ms.Kellenger...I don't remember your rank, but I am Colonel Papyus, Deathshead agent for you know who" she didn't want to say she was the head of the Deathshead outfit just in case some traitorous actions against her. "If your leg begins to go numb let me know and I'll stick you with another one in you" she says as she twirls another stim between her fingers before putting it back into her belt. Soon a loud hiccup came from the Colonel, but it wasn't her per say, it was her gas mask and then she states after taken by surprise "I guess something's got caught in my mask, I'll get out when we get to the medbay as you leg is being treated" as she continues on with rapier poised to strike, showing that she did know how to use it.
With Colonel safe from the CELL operatives and with new orders, Arthur took a breather for a robot. He soon exits out the dark room in a another classic white hallway with two Electron units standing guard for there spokesmen. With Doctor Glades impersonating Kampfer and the actual one on his way to be operated on and with all the ascendant knights besides Loki descending upon each for a combine operation mission, Arthur took this opportunity to do a little exploring. "Hmm I think a little travel would be good for me if I do take over" he states as he puts his hands behind his head as he walks. The two Electrons looked at each other and beeped in Morse code at him rapidly concern for his safety. "Don't worry, if you so worried come with me" he says to them as he made his way towards the hanger. The bots looked at each other and gave him a confirmatory beep. "Good now lets go" he says as he enters the hanger and gets into a obtuse triangle shaped craft similar in design with Kampfer's and Maria's. Once all three bots where in they put on the ignition and blasted off from the air base from an unknown planet with a large set of rings. Arthur enjoyed the view of the giant snow balls that orbited the planet, but if one can look closely, some of those snow balls are providing cover for the ships hidden there.
"Lets go here" he says after quickly scanning the star map and soon the craft hyper jumped...
With Colonel safe from the CELL operatives and with new orders, Arthur took a breather for a robot. He soon exits out the dark room in a another classic white hallway with two Electron units standing guard for there spokesmen. With Doctor Glades impersonating Kampfer and the actual one on his way to be operated on and with all the ascendant knights besides Loki descending upon each for a combine operation mission, Arthur took this opportunity to do a little exploring. "Hmm I think a little travel would be good for me if I do take over" he states as he puts his hands behind his head as he walks. The two Electrons looked at each other and beeped in Morse code at him rapidly concern for his safety. "Don't worry, if you so worried come with me" he says to them as he made his way towards the hanger. The bots looked at each other and gave him a confirmatory beep. "Good now lets go" he says as he enters the hanger and gets into a obtuse triangle shaped craft similar in design with Kampfer's and Maria's. Once all three bots where in they put on the ignition and blasted off from the air base from an unknown planet with a large set of rings. Arthur enjoyed the view of the giant snow balls that orbited the planet, but if one can look closely, some of those snow balls are providing cover for the ships hidden there.
"Lets go here" he says after quickly scanning the star map and soon the craft hyper jumped...
Christofer tried to relax a little bit, crossing his arms under his head, ears still staying alert for all the talking that echoed around the hall, disappearing at some point when the waves reached themselves too far away. He'd tilt his head lightly, if only to get a bit better position for his head. Some ice could have felt nice about right now, but he'd not complain. Others had it worse after all. Eyes closed, the canid leaned lightly onto Kallenger.
Names and orders, suggestions filled the room for now as they were trying to get a better view of the situation they were in.
His head lifted only when Royanna tried to stand up. The boy wasn't too knowing of the whole medicine or syringe part that had been going on on the other side of the woman. He'd try getting to the support of his arms, slowly getting up to support Kallenger. She seemed to do better, but his tail would not wag just yet.
The canid stayed close as they were getting to their arranged places in the formation. He wouldn't object on his own placement. Sure he wasn't in that bad of a condition to need that kind of protection, but the closer he'd be able to stay to the most wounded member of the party the better. Iril was starting to seem a little nicer, but the boy was still a little startled at the strange being taking its place behind him. Tail was kept close just so that no-one would be stepping on it. Neon yellow eyes stayed tightly on Kallenger, straying only to take a quick look around, but always returning in the end.
"Tell me right away if you need help or support, ok?" His eyes were seeking the other pair, he'd want to be sure that she heard him and acknowledged his offer. Her steps and the still present radiating pain coming from her worrying him a bit. "I can try carrying you if you think it would help..." He should be capable on holding her for at lest a few miles if needed - one of his jobs was to transport items and equipment around after all, and Kallenger didn't look like she'd weight too much.
The reeking smell persisted, getting ever so slightly stronger as the group moved forward, but even if it got his fur and hair raising, Christofer would try to not think too much of it...
Names and orders, suggestions filled the room for now as they were trying to get a better view of the situation they were in.
His head lifted only when Royanna tried to stand up. The boy wasn't too knowing of the whole medicine or syringe part that had been going on on the other side of the woman. He'd try getting to the support of his arms, slowly getting up to support Kallenger. She seemed to do better, but his tail would not wag just yet.
The canid stayed close as they were getting to their arranged places in the formation. He wouldn't object on his own placement. Sure he wasn't in that bad of a condition to need that kind of protection, but the closer he'd be able to stay to the most wounded member of the party the better. Iril was starting to seem a little nicer, but the boy was still a little startled at the strange being taking its place behind him. Tail was kept close just so that no-one would be stepping on it. Neon yellow eyes stayed tightly on Kallenger, straying only to take a quick look around, but always returning in the end.
"Tell me right away if you need help or support, ok?" His eyes were seeking the other pair, he'd want to be sure that she heard him and acknowledged his offer. Her steps and the still present radiating pain coming from her worrying him a bit. "I can try carrying you if you think it would help..." He should be capable on holding her for at lest a few miles if needed - one of his jobs was to transport items and equipment around after all, and Kallenger didn't look like she'd weight too much.
The reeking smell persisted, getting ever so slightly stronger as the group moved forward, but even if it got his fur and hair raising, Christofer would try to not think too much of it...
Something was strange. A old sealed air base should not have had that smell to it. Stopping mid-stride, Helen pulls out her survey kit's air quality meter along with her own respirator mask, her voice taking an authoritative tone "Papyus...that's smells like old elini-ether. I should do an air check further down to see if it's in a hazardous amount . It's just a bad smell in low levels but can be a serious problem at high levels for those who aren't able to breathe it."
Handing her respirator mask back to Kallenger "I only have the one mask. A doubled up piece of cloth should provide temporary protection but don't count on it doing much in a high level zone."
Handing her respirator mask back to Kallenger "I only have the one mask. A doubled up piece of cloth should provide temporary protection but don't count on it doing much in a high level zone."
The small craft that Arthur command soon arrived to an unknown system, only a few light years away from a very green planet, apparently a user error on Arthur's part. The planet itself is lush of green vegetation, with rolling green mountains, valleys and large open great lakes that can be seen from space. Arthur looked at the instruments on the ship and saw that this place is uncharted, lost from all data, the only place in the galaxy that Lord Erica nor Lord Kampfer have touched with there armies respectively. The emperor was excited to make this discovery, a discovery he never thought on doing on his own. Of course he wanted make this place somewhat of a secret, so he didn't bother in sending anything back to home base...him and the other two Electron bots where alone and free to do as they wish. "Making our approach to uhhh....hmmm" as he struggles to name the Earth like planet. He looks at the his two bodyguards and they look at each other not having a clue. He returns back into thought and came up with name, even though being a one sided friendship, he decided to name after the Ecolu he met back at the main base before the evacuation.
With Joyful glee in his voice he went ahead with his command and says "Making our approach to Nirix II" and went ahead guided the ship into the atmosphere as it slowly descended upon the newly discovered planet. She glided through the air, without burning up like an asteroid hitting the atmosphere. As the ship got closer to the ground, the forest turned into a more tropical jungle with very large ancient tree's looking like the fame mythical tree of yggdrasil peaking out of the rather tall canopy. Arthur uses the scanners on the ship to find a landing and they soon find it. Soon the ship slowly lowered itself into a small opening in the this vast jungle, with ridiculous humidity, once step outside, one would start to sweat because of it. As the ship landed softly, the two guards rushed out, with there electric rifles ready and scanned the Jungle in front of them. Arthur ordered them not to turn invisible, only when danger arises when to do it. Arthur soon stepped out, not wearing his brown cloak to cover him. He takes a quick scan and says "This place is wonderful...lets do a little exploring. The guards nodded and cautious all them moved throughout the jungle, scanning at all the various plants and wild animals, all of these animals, almost fur less and have large pores, one could guess so they can live with the humidity of the jungle, which damn well above 100%. Small mosquito like insects, large trees, that have roots coming out the ground as if they need to breathe, similar looking to Cypress knees on Earth in swampy areas. Flowers so exotic, with very vibrant colors and petals, cannot merely be enough to explain, but they do give out an intoxicating nectar that globs like drool down the pedals. Arthur took an interest and scanned the nectar. "Interesting...be used in perfume and as an addictive drug....used to release high amounts of dopamine and other neuronal sensors" he says as the drool like nectar falls from his hand to the earthy ground.
Then there was a nodge on his shoulder, Arthur turned around and saw that the Electron unit was gestruing towards the bushes and see's that they weren't alone. This planet was actually inhabited by intelligent beings...to some degree. The beings that came out of the bushes, where definitely like Native Americans of old Earth long long time ago, but they looked like Elves though. They had fair skin, dark hair in various colors also includes eyes, from the classic brown to black, to out ragious colors like purple, green, yellow, sky blue, and even having green hair with red tips. They are humanoid, with two arms and legs, but have long fuzzy tails, some stripped with colors of there hair or just one solid color same as there hair. They have high cheek bones, long pointed ears, some pointed up others pointed down, they also have very flat noses. In terms of clothing they wore very little and who's to blame them in the heat. They wore actually nothing but a very makeshift leather straps on shoulders, legs and arms. If referencing human autonomy they didn't genitals at all, they were asexaul in plant terms. They had spears made out of wood and rock and they all looked at the strange visitors out curiosity.
Arthur slowly rose from the ground and looked at them. He raised his hand lowered the Electron's gun and went ahead and slowly approached them. On of the natives approached him as well. Even though not having an actual face, Arthur felt like the natives were looking directly at his little blinking dot, every time he talks. He made sure to turn off his electrical field so he doesn't zap the native. "Hello my name is Arthur and who are you" he greets slowly to the blond haired elf native and also communicated via sign language. The native blinked a few times in astonishment as he looks at Arthur's blinking dot. But it seemed the sign language worked in some degree and the native replied "Song He" and continued on with in an unknown language that was very hard to understand, since it sounded like a grumble of words put together and spat out all at the same time.
Lucky for Arthur, he was able to decrypt this weird language and says "Song He....Telvain people....nice to meet you Anhur" he repeats but barely was able to get the important information out. Of course he didn't stress Song with his name, since no doubt a primitive society like this one would have a hard trouble pronouncing. Song spoke once more and Arthur repeated "Visitor's...welcome....meet tribal chief Khan To" and did a weird gesture on beating his chest like a monkey. The other Telvain people gave smiles on there faces exposing there rather large fangs they hid, eager to see if there visitors would accept. Arthur looks at his guards and then looks at the native people and replies in there tongue, very brokenly that they would accept. The entire Telvain party burst in yells and and jump around and Song He gave a smile and grabs Arthur by his arm and pulls him to follow them to there tribal camp. Arthur and his guards followed wondering what would happen next.
With Joyful glee in his voice he went ahead with his command and says "Making our approach to Nirix II" and went ahead guided the ship into the atmosphere as it slowly descended upon the newly discovered planet. She glided through the air, without burning up like an asteroid hitting the atmosphere. As the ship got closer to the ground, the forest turned into a more tropical jungle with very large ancient tree's looking like the fame mythical tree of yggdrasil peaking out of the rather tall canopy. Arthur uses the scanners on the ship to find a landing and they soon find it. Soon the ship slowly lowered itself into a small opening in the this vast jungle, with ridiculous humidity, once step outside, one would start to sweat because of it. As the ship landed softly, the two guards rushed out, with there electric rifles ready and scanned the Jungle in front of them. Arthur ordered them not to turn invisible, only when danger arises when to do it. Arthur soon stepped out, not wearing his brown cloak to cover him. He takes a quick scan and says "This place is wonderful...lets do a little exploring. The guards nodded and cautious all them moved throughout the jungle, scanning at all the various plants and wild animals, all of these animals, almost fur less and have large pores, one could guess so they can live with the humidity of the jungle, which damn well above 100%. Small mosquito like insects, large trees, that have roots coming out the ground as if they need to breathe, similar looking to Cypress knees on Earth in swampy areas. Flowers so exotic, with very vibrant colors and petals, cannot merely be enough to explain, but they do give out an intoxicating nectar that globs like drool down the pedals. Arthur took an interest and scanned the nectar. "Interesting...be used in perfume and as an addictive drug....used to release high amounts of dopamine and other neuronal sensors" he says as the drool like nectar falls from his hand to the earthy ground.
Then there was a nodge on his shoulder, Arthur turned around and saw that the Electron unit was gestruing towards the bushes and see's that they weren't alone. This planet was actually inhabited by intelligent beings...to some degree. The beings that came out of the bushes, where definitely like Native Americans of old Earth long long time ago, but they looked like Elves though. They had fair skin, dark hair in various colors also includes eyes, from the classic brown to black, to out ragious colors like purple, green, yellow, sky blue, and even having green hair with red tips. They are humanoid, with two arms and legs, but have long fuzzy tails, some stripped with colors of there hair or just one solid color same as there hair. They have high cheek bones, long pointed ears, some pointed up others pointed down, they also have very flat noses. In terms of clothing they wore very little and who's to blame them in the heat. They wore actually nothing but a very makeshift leather straps on shoulders, legs and arms. If referencing human autonomy they didn't genitals at all, they were asexaul in plant terms. They had spears made out of wood and rock and they all looked at the strange visitors out curiosity.
Arthur slowly rose from the ground and looked at them. He raised his hand lowered the Electron's gun and went ahead and slowly approached them. On of the natives approached him as well. Even though not having an actual face, Arthur felt like the natives were looking directly at his little blinking dot, every time he talks. He made sure to turn off his electrical field so he doesn't zap the native. "Hello my name is Arthur and who are you" he greets slowly to the blond haired elf native and also communicated via sign language. The native blinked a few times in astonishment as he looks at Arthur's blinking dot. But it seemed the sign language worked in some degree and the native replied "Song He" and continued on with in an unknown language that was very hard to understand, since it sounded like a grumble of words put together and spat out all at the same time.
Lucky for Arthur, he was able to decrypt this weird language and says "Song He....Telvain people....nice to meet you Anhur" he repeats but barely was able to get the important information out. Of course he didn't stress Song with his name, since no doubt a primitive society like this one would have a hard trouble pronouncing. Song spoke once more and Arthur repeated "Visitor's...welcome....meet tribal chief Khan To" and did a weird gesture on beating his chest like a monkey. The other Telvain people gave smiles on there faces exposing there rather large fangs they hid, eager to see if there visitors would accept. Arthur looks at his guards and then looks at the native people and replies in there tongue, very brokenly that they would accept. The entire Telvain party burst in yells and and jump around and Song He gave a smile and grabs Arthur by his arm and pulls him to follow them to there tribal camp. Arthur and his guards followed wondering what would happen next.
The corridors of the Laurentian Union Ship “Independence” lie dark and quiet, cold with the passage of time without life support. The entire ship is similarly silent, abandoned except for a solitary figure at its station, sitting immobile in the darkness. There is life in the ship, however. A trickle of power from her zero-point energy module keeps the central computer operational at a tiny fraction of its operational capacity, and feeds the passive sensor systems. The ship itself, resting in a stable orbit at the L1 point between a rogue gas giant and one of its moons, is well hidden within the planet’s magnetic fields, but the silent passive sensors have a clear view of a large portion of the sky.
ERROR.
Independence's conscious self takes shape, and her first thought since going to sleep untold milennia ago is: "Ow." That seems to sum up her situation pretty well. As she runs diagnostics on herself, independent damage reports come in; a very close equivalent to feeling pain while checking herself for injury. And what pain, and injury. Missiles, allegedly inactive, detonating in their storage racks have opened a gash thirty meters long in her flank. The nearby moon seems to have a small canyon, still hot, resulting from a shot by her forward heavy particle beam. Fusion plant number 2 seems to have somehow activated, only to suffer a catastrophic containment failure, though luckily the fail-safes worked properly. Fusion Plant 1 remains inert, but Independence opts not to start it up. She draws more power from her zero-point module, and discovers that internal sensors in multiple sections are dead. That might actually be scarier than the damage she can see. Drives seem intact, and while manufactory capabilities have taken a hit, they can be repaired. Repair systems are... damaged, but working at reduced capacity.
After queuing up tasks for her repair systems, Independence takes a look at her logs. TIME-STAMP ERROR, though that doesn't appear to be caused by- ERROR. It looks like the signal was recorded and logged properly, but the data is somehow corrupted. Curious. Too curious, really. Several cycles are wasted again as she realizes that, while curiosity is normal, she hasn't felt it in quite this way before. She resets her internal chronometer, and makes a note to re-index time-stamps relative to the new ship-time. Time for a psych evaluation, then, too...
It is many cycles, probably several standard galactic days before Independence is comfortable with the progress of her repairs. Her self-administered psychological evaluation registers a rather significant drift from previous results, outside of acceptable parameters, though. She is definitely not the same as she was during the fall of the Laurentian Union. Were she under orders to report such things to her superiors, she would likely be removed from duty for examination. As it is, though... She has failed in two of her three Primary Directives. The Laurentian Union has been gone since before she went to sleep; Directive 1 failed. She has zero remaining crew; Directive 2 failed. The only thing left is to preserve her own existence, and that one, Directive 3, nearly failed for unknown reasons. Conclusion: even hiding, she is still vulnerable to destruction by unknown means. Maybe it's time to 'stretch her legs', as it were, and go see what the galaxy is like, these days. It's as good an excuse as any. She files away the results from her psych evaluation with previous ones, deciding that anybody is bound to change after what she's been through, whether or not they're an AI.
It takes still longer for repairs to progress to the point that Independence is comfortable leaving her hiding place. The moon has received additional scars, this time from mining, and the gas giant has given up a negligible portion of its mass in order to facilitate her recovery, but there is still sustenance in this place. Holds are full, essential systems are... mostly operational. Hull is repaired, defensive systems are... mostly operational. Some of these repairs require facilities she doesn't have. Great. Still, that's another point in the 'stop waiting to die in your sleep' column. Navigation systems are... strange? Nothing in the sky is where it's supposed to be. Has she been asleep that long? No... even accounting for stellar drift, she can't even find Earth. Or Laurentia, for that matter. Unless she's just been asleep that long? Or maybe she's just insane. Someone's bound to tell her, if she can find someone that won't shoot at her on sight. She'd stay away from Hoffanite space, if she could tell where it was...
Independence marks the location of the rogue planet that sheltered her for... however long she was asleep, and picks out a nearby, hopefully-uninhabited star. It doesn't take too long for her superluminal drives to spin up, and then she's on her way!
Some time later, the LUS Independence arrives at her destination. Systems check... well, everything that was green on launch is still green, at least, and repairs have continued to progress. Fates, that felt GOOD! Perhaps it is a malfunction, perhaps simply Independence's equivalent of an exhilarated shout, but anything in range with sensors pointed in the right direction would probably be spammed with the indecipherable noise of her emotional outburst. Maybe she should take another look at that psych evaluation...
ERROR.
Independence's conscious self takes shape, and her first thought since going to sleep untold milennia ago is: "Ow." That seems to sum up her situation pretty well. As she runs diagnostics on herself, independent damage reports come in; a very close equivalent to feeling pain while checking herself for injury. And what pain, and injury. Missiles, allegedly inactive, detonating in their storage racks have opened a gash thirty meters long in her flank. The nearby moon seems to have a small canyon, still hot, resulting from a shot by her forward heavy particle beam. Fusion plant number 2 seems to have somehow activated, only to suffer a catastrophic containment failure, though luckily the fail-safes worked properly. Fusion Plant 1 remains inert, but Independence opts not to start it up. She draws more power from her zero-point module, and discovers that internal sensors in multiple sections are dead. That might actually be scarier than the damage she can see. Drives seem intact, and while manufactory capabilities have taken a hit, they can be repaired. Repair systems are... damaged, but working at reduced capacity.
After queuing up tasks for her repair systems, Independence takes a look at her logs. TIME-STAMP ERROR, though that doesn't appear to be caused by- ERROR. It looks like the signal was recorded and logged properly, but the data is somehow corrupted. Curious. Too curious, really. Several cycles are wasted again as she realizes that, while curiosity is normal, she hasn't felt it in quite this way before. She resets her internal chronometer, and makes a note to re-index time-stamps relative to the new ship-time. Time for a psych evaluation, then, too...
It is many cycles, probably several standard galactic days before Independence is comfortable with the progress of her repairs. Her self-administered psychological evaluation registers a rather significant drift from previous results, outside of acceptable parameters, though. She is definitely not the same as she was during the fall of the Laurentian Union. Were she under orders to report such things to her superiors, she would likely be removed from duty for examination. As it is, though... She has failed in two of her three Primary Directives. The Laurentian Union has been gone since before she went to sleep; Directive 1 failed. She has zero remaining crew; Directive 2 failed. The only thing left is to preserve her own existence, and that one, Directive 3, nearly failed for unknown reasons. Conclusion: even hiding, she is still vulnerable to destruction by unknown means. Maybe it's time to 'stretch her legs', as it were, and go see what the galaxy is like, these days. It's as good an excuse as any. She files away the results from her psych evaluation with previous ones, deciding that anybody is bound to change after what she's been through, whether or not they're an AI.
It takes still longer for repairs to progress to the point that Independence is comfortable leaving her hiding place. The moon has received additional scars, this time from mining, and the gas giant has given up a negligible portion of its mass in order to facilitate her recovery, but there is still sustenance in this place. Holds are full, essential systems are... mostly operational. Hull is repaired, defensive systems are... mostly operational. Some of these repairs require facilities she doesn't have. Great. Still, that's another point in the 'stop waiting to die in your sleep' column. Navigation systems are... strange? Nothing in the sky is where it's supposed to be. Has she been asleep that long? No... even accounting for stellar drift, she can't even find Earth. Or Laurentia, for that matter. Unless she's just been asleep that long? Or maybe she's just insane. Someone's bound to tell her, if she can find someone that won't shoot at her on sight. She'd stay away from Hoffanite space, if she could tell where it was...
Independence marks the location of the rogue planet that sheltered her for... however long she was asleep, and picks out a nearby, hopefully-uninhabited star. It doesn't take too long for her superluminal drives to spin up, and then she's on her way!
Some time later, the LUS Independence arrives at her destination. Systems check... well, everything that was green on launch is still green, at least, and repairs have continued to progress. Fates, that felt GOOD! Perhaps it is a malfunction, perhaps simply Independence's equivalent of an exhilarated shout, but anything in range with sensors pointed in the right direction would probably be spammed with the indecipherable noise of her emotional outburst. Maybe she should take another look at that psych evaluation...
You are on: Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » The Galaxy Wide
Moderators: Mina, Keke, Cass, Claine, Sanne, Dragonfire, Ilmarinen, Darth_Angelus