Sergei wasn't going to turn around and be picky about 'what he left the planet on'. He wasn't even complaining about the company, which he did not find to be the best, but that didn't matter - at this very moment at least. What mattered was that he was getting out and had now gotten a little bit closer to what he was after. No-one else really knew of the whole thing, the plan, other than the white canid. Still, he had to admit that at times Dmitri was not the best companion to have around. The man shook his head. Canids could occasionally be much more trouble than what they were worth.
He wasn't too amused, nor surprised, to find the albino already snarling at strangers once they had stepped on the floor of the ship.
At first it had just been some harmless dead glares switched between the canid and the Ranger. Nothing unusual for the time being, Sergei was not going to get himself involved, instead advanced a little further in the ship, not expecting anyone to follow after them. He needed something else to think about. A little distraction. Something to get him 'up to date' as one may put it. He'd not go out on wondering too far on his own though, stopping, turning around and waiting for the other two to get their bickerings done and over with so that they could proceed. Arms crossed as he waited, weight somewhat switched to lean more towards the left side of his own self.
It was then that he finally paid mind to the person on board. Only having his eyes half open as he looked down on them, though words weren't yet spoken. No direct introductions shared or anything. He was not too amused of the whole cyborg thing, but in today's world, he had no rights to complain. Reasons. Attention was more shifted towards the stubborn canid who had only just now stopped glaring at the Ranger and was now making his way to Sergei's side usual.
If it weren't for the interruption of the newcomer.
Well, Dmitri for one could feel new set of eyes on himself, baring his fangs at the female already with a mean glare from both the seeing and blind eye.
"What are you starting at мусор -!?" The canid barked, last, foreign word, being cut by a sharp snap of fingers, sentence was halted and ear perked up attentively.
Who else but Sergei, a little bit too tired to deal with more fighting and quarrel between Dim and anyone else. Another snap of his fingers followed, and as always, with a glare towards those he had started to form a fight with was given before he gladly frolicked his way to the man, who in return offered a proper look at the newcomer.
"I will explain later." Short and simple, as his head tilted ever so slightly downwards as an arm reached over the ledge.
So they had followed.
There was a light frown on Sergei's face due to the sight, but at the middle person his hazel eyes both squinted deeper and stopped as he realized that his expression was changing. Back to the usual one.
Connell, the blonde, had just gotten himself a footing on the ship as well now. For his first move, he picked the sleepy person up, adjusted him a little and lifted them from his waist to be laid over his shoulder for better support. Feet were lifted off the floor, but this was by no means an easy task. The other person was roughly his size, and heavy.
As the Ranger lifted his voice again, Connell's nerves cracked. Done. Screw you mister. Not a word was said as he made his first proper step in the ship and once he got over to the Ranger, he pushed him. Shoved the man aside. Not a single care in the world that this man now most likely had the homefield advantage.
"Out of the way, you bloody ****. And thanks." Ok, so maybe he was a little rude, and the shove at the Ranger's side probably didn't get much movement to happen, unlike if someone like Sergei had done it. No, he was just being a diva. A pissed off diva. Tail swaying behind him in an annoyed fashion as he took the other canid further into the ship.
On his way there would be Sergei whom was still waiting for the ones in their 'fancy space suits' to leave and lift the ladder. Instead they got these two.
"You should have left him behind." Words were spoken but eyes did not meet, Sergei still having his back straight and eyes on the other two that were considered human at the moment.
"Well sorry for not being a heartless ******* like some!" Connell was rather pissed, but for some reason found even sharper tone out of himself as he spoke to the man. Had an issue with the tall person? Or was just looking to get on everyone's nerves?
In either case, Sergei was not as aggravated as the blonde, only letting out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes and turned to look slightly downwards. Not much, but it was enough to note a change in his posture.
Sergei might not have given much of a reaction at all, but Dmitri was another story, the canid having tensed up and was intensely glaring after the man passing through from their right with the one he was carrying.
"Let go of him already." The man would keep a little pause between addressing the man, letting them move past him before speaking again, voice ever so slightly deeper with these words.
"Well I know Somebody is not ready to let go of it yet!" Came a snarl in return, sharp as ever, seemingly jabbing onto the other man like a dagger considering that there was a reaction.
He struck a nerve.
And with that instant, Dmitri was already snarling right back at them, turning slightly on their place before leaping towards the blonde and yanking him and the one he was carrying backwards, pulling harshly from the collar of his shirt before throwing the less combat experienced man away and back towards the way he had come from.
The Ranger did tell for them to throw someone over the ledge.
No one flew off just yet though, even if there was a whine as Connell took a rough landing right onto his side, still trying to somewhat protect the other person.
Some blood was drawn from the back of the blonde's neck. The albino did not hold back with what he did, grabbing his crimson bladed dagger from its sheath and taking a step towards the other canid as they were still groggy, holding their head and seeking to check the condition of the other person.
Though Sergei wasn't holding the situation back at the moment, so Dim was free to do what he wanted, jabbing that dagger right in the side of the blonde and the yelp, turning into a scream and shock would be filling the room they had for use.
The darker furred one had stayed back, actually having lowered his ears at the Ranger's curses and apologizing for both him and his aquintances. He was actually going to be socializing with the new supposed allies they had, but even his bashful nature couldn't ignore the scream of his own partner. Ears had perked up and without much thought he'd already be leaping in the middle of the situation, taking the dagger through his left hand, the adrenaline rush and him biting his teeth together allowing him to keep the pained grunt in as he pushed the pale one away, making some distance between them.
"VICTOR!!" Was cried out from the mouth of the bleeding blonde, now attempting on covering his side as well as the third person. Not the best way on having the fourth person's name revealed, but the situation had everyone just acting at a snap.
"It's a corpse!! Leave it!!" The albino hissed, raising his voice from a distance.
"Never!!" Connell barked right back at the man. Wounded or not, he was no quite, attempting to slowly get back onto his feet and Dmitri started snarling at him as a warning.
"STOP!! No fighting!" Victor shouted, seeking to stop the bloodshed. Getting at least the concern of one of the fighters.
"Victor. You bruise easily... Don't get yourself mixed into this." Voice was calmer in tone now, shock probably slowly leaving and making some way for the pain.
Dmitri huffed, not seeing much point in them covering for each others. Weaklings.
"**** off you ****!!" The albino stated with a growl.
"Enough..!" Familiar voice, slightly raised but only so that he could surely be heard.
He had been watching, but only chose to halt the situation because it was dragging. Surely enough the two outsiders would be getting mixed in by now. Besides, the corpse laying on the ground had already received too much of his attention and he did not wish to see it any longer, taking a turn to leave already.
"You should be ashamed of yourself!! -" The blonde tried shouting after Sergei.
"Connell!" A yelp followed as Victor pressed his hand onto the wounded neck of Connell, pinning them down and keeping them still, preventing the possible chase, obviously not going to end well for either of them if they tried.
Dmitri lifted his nose before turning his back to the duo and their stupid-*** corpse. Especially because it was That person, but as Sergei had already taken to leave the room, he didn't want to linger behind for too long. He sheathed his blade and moved to follow the taller man, both making their way further away. In some way their behavior was telling the rest to 'come get them when they had smarter company'.
All the while the losing side was left bleeding on the spot, tending to their wounds and the corpse that had somehow caused all of this mess.
You got yourself some divided troublesome group on board.
He wasn't too amused, nor surprised, to find the albino already snarling at strangers once they had stepped on the floor of the ship.
At first it had just been some harmless dead glares switched between the canid and the Ranger. Nothing unusual for the time being, Sergei was not going to get himself involved, instead advanced a little further in the ship, not expecting anyone to follow after them. He needed something else to think about. A little distraction. Something to get him 'up to date' as one may put it. He'd not go out on wondering too far on his own though, stopping, turning around and waiting for the other two to get their bickerings done and over with so that they could proceed. Arms crossed as he waited, weight somewhat switched to lean more towards the left side of his own self.
It was then that he finally paid mind to the person on board. Only having his eyes half open as he looked down on them, though words weren't yet spoken. No direct introductions shared or anything. He was not too amused of the whole cyborg thing, but in today's world, he had no rights to complain. Reasons. Attention was more shifted towards the stubborn canid who had only just now stopped glaring at the Ranger and was now making his way to Sergei's side usual.
If it weren't for the interruption of the newcomer.
Well, Dmitri for one could feel new set of eyes on himself, baring his fangs at the female already with a mean glare from both the seeing and blind eye.
"What are you starting at мусор -!?" The canid barked, last, foreign word, being cut by a sharp snap of fingers, sentence was halted and ear perked up attentively.
Who else but Sergei, a little bit too tired to deal with more fighting and quarrel between Dim and anyone else. Another snap of his fingers followed, and as always, with a glare towards those he had started to form a fight with was given before he gladly frolicked his way to the man, who in return offered a proper look at the newcomer.
"I will explain later." Short and simple, as his head tilted ever so slightly downwards as an arm reached over the ledge.
So they had followed.
There was a light frown on Sergei's face due to the sight, but at the middle person his hazel eyes both squinted deeper and stopped as he realized that his expression was changing. Back to the usual one.
Connell, the blonde, had just gotten himself a footing on the ship as well now. For his first move, he picked the sleepy person up, adjusted him a little and lifted them from his waist to be laid over his shoulder for better support. Feet were lifted off the floor, but this was by no means an easy task. The other person was roughly his size, and heavy.
As the Ranger lifted his voice again, Connell's nerves cracked. Done. Screw you mister. Not a word was said as he made his first proper step in the ship and once he got over to the Ranger, he pushed him. Shoved the man aside. Not a single care in the world that this man now most likely had the homefield advantage.
"Out of the way, you bloody ****. And thanks." Ok, so maybe he was a little rude, and the shove at the Ranger's side probably didn't get much movement to happen, unlike if someone like Sergei had done it. No, he was just being a diva. A pissed off diva. Tail swaying behind him in an annoyed fashion as he took the other canid further into the ship.
On his way there would be Sergei whom was still waiting for the ones in their 'fancy space suits' to leave and lift the ladder. Instead they got these two.
"You should have left him behind." Words were spoken but eyes did not meet, Sergei still having his back straight and eyes on the other two that were considered human at the moment.
"Well sorry for not being a heartless ******* like some!" Connell was rather pissed, but for some reason found even sharper tone out of himself as he spoke to the man. Had an issue with the tall person? Or was just looking to get on everyone's nerves?
In either case, Sergei was not as aggravated as the blonde, only letting out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes and turned to look slightly downwards. Not much, but it was enough to note a change in his posture.
Sergei might not have given much of a reaction at all, but Dmitri was another story, the canid having tensed up and was intensely glaring after the man passing through from their right with the one he was carrying.
"Let go of him already." The man would keep a little pause between addressing the man, letting them move past him before speaking again, voice ever so slightly deeper with these words.
"Well I know Somebody is not ready to let go of it yet!" Came a snarl in return, sharp as ever, seemingly jabbing onto the other man like a dagger considering that there was a reaction.
He struck a nerve.
And with that instant, Dmitri was already snarling right back at them, turning slightly on their place before leaping towards the blonde and yanking him and the one he was carrying backwards, pulling harshly from the collar of his shirt before throwing the less combat experienced man away and back towards the way he had come from.
The Ranger did tell for them to throw someone over the ledge.
No one flew off just yet though, even if there was a whine as Connell took a rough landing right onto his side, still trying to somewhat protect the other person.
Some blood was drawn from the back of the blonde's neck. The albino did not hold back with what he did, grabbing his crimson bladed dagger from its sheath and taking a step towards the other canid as they were still groggy, holding their head and seeking to check the condition of the other person.
Though Sergei wasn't holding the situation back at the moment, so Dim was free to do what he wanted, jabbing that dagger right in the side of the blonde and the yelp, turning into a scream and shock would be filling the room they had for use.
The darker furred one had stayed back, actually having lowered his ears at the Ranger's curses and apologizing for both him and his aquintances. He was actually going to be socializing with the new supposed allies they had, but even his bashful nature couldn't ignore the scream of his own partner. Ears had perked up and without much thought he'd already be leaping in the middle of the situation, taking the dagger through his left hand, the adrenaline rush and him biting his teeth together allowing him to keep the pained grunt in as he pushed the pale one away, making some distance between them.
"VICTOR!!" Was cried out from the mouth of the bleeding blonde, now attempting on covering his side as well as the third person. Not the best way on having the fourth person's name revealed, but the situation had everyone just acting at a snap.
"It's a corpse!! Leave it!!" The albino hissed, raising his voice from a distance.
"Never!!" Connell barked right back at the man. Wounded or not, he was no quite, attempting to slowly get back onto his feet and Dmitri started snarling at him as a warning.
"STOP!! No fighting!" Victor shouted, seeking to stop the bloodshed. Getting at least the concern of one of the fighters.
"Victor. You bruise easily... Don't get yourself mixed into this." Voice was calmer in tone now, shock probably slowly leaving and making some way for the pain.
Dmitri huffed, not seeing much point in them covering for each others. Weaklings.
"**** off you ****!!" The albino stated with a growl.
"Enough..!" Familiar voice, slightly raised but only so that he could surely be heard.
He had been watching, but only chose to halt the situation because it was dragging. Surely enough the two outsiders would be getting mixed in by now. Besides, the corpse laying on the ground had already received too much of his attention and he did not wish to see it any longer, taking a turn to leave already.
"You should be ashamed of yourself!! -" The blonde tried shouting after Sergei.
"Connell!" A yelp followed as Victor pressed his hand onto the wounded neck of Connell, pinning them down and keeping them still, preventing the possible chase, obviously not going to end well for either of them if they tried.
Dmitri lifted his nose before turning his back to the duo and their stupid-*** corpse. Especially because it was That person, but as Sergei had already taken to leave the room, he didn't want to linger behind for too long. He sheathed his blade and moved to follow the taller man, both making their way further away. In some way their behavior was telling the rest to 'come get them when they had smarter company'.
All the while the losing side was left bleeding on the spot, tending to their wounds and the corpse that had somehow caused all of this mess.
You got yourself some divided troublesome group on board.
Unspecified Interstellar Route
Shortly before the departure of Stella Viventium from Earth IV high-orbit...
They had been personally issued a brand-new private starship, courtesy of Doctor Relan Allenberg, immediately following his long-winded explanation about how he had supposedly located the mythical Lost World of Isandril that all the old legends told of. He had devoted thirty years of his life to the endeavor of seeking it out, researching day and night every scrap of information he could muster up, devoting long, late hours to poring over and over questionable documents. In his early years, he had invested well and the money had come pouring in with little effort. With the help of the few friends he had, Allenberg became very rapidly one of the wealthiest individuals on his home planet of Merinosca – which he had even to this day never actually left.
It was this excessive wealth which allowed him to pursue the endless research. Needless to say, when it came time to organize an expedition to see at last whether or not his theories proved true, money was no object.
Of course, he was an intelligent man, and the possibility that he was tragically incorrect was one that he was scientifically forced to acknowledge. It would be both humiliating and utterly depressing if he brought together the greatest minds and explorers of his world together and sent them on such an adventure only to discover that what he’d thought was Isandril was actually an uninhabited asteroid.
So he was going to need to test the waters – to send someone comparatively unimportant to go check it out and give him word. Sure, he could have commissioned one of the big companies to stop by that particular location, but that would be stupid for obvious reasons. If there truly was a great treasure on Isandril, it would be his alone.
As such, he decided to put some effort into researching capable, trustworthy mercenaries for the purpose – it did not take him long to decide on Metaralis Outteridge and Delastarh Nagahoshi as being the best option. He would be an open book – he would pay them extensively as proof that he was serious – he would explain everything he had learned and then he would send them to the location at which the mythical Lost World was purportedly waiting.
He had invited them to his penthouse home, offered them drinks, sat down and spoke long and hard of his findings, his intentions, his motives. He did not attempt to disguise the fact that he believed there was a great treasure there, and that he intended to have it to himself – the obscene sum of payment he was offering the two men was more than enough that they would not want to go making off with his prize once it was within his grasp.
He re-told them the legend – how the First People with their great civilization had thrived in the ancient world long ago, long before the seemingly infinite depth of written history. How they suddenly disappeared, but left behind a vault of treasure and knowledge as a proof that they had once existed and a means of leaving behind that which their civilization had created. He told of the ancient guardian – a machine left behind that would judge the will and intentions of whoever found it, and decide whether or not to allow them to open the vault. All this they had heard before.
Then he explained to them that he had reason to believe the legends were possibly true – he had calculated with painstaking, meticulous effort the possible trajectory and path which the planet would have taken under the assumption of its’ starting at the ‘center’ of the Universe.
The job was a simple one. The mercenaries were to go to the specified location and conduct a thorough scan of the world they found, then return to him for further instructions. He had given them a brand new ship and told them to keep it. It was equipped with all the equipment required for his scan, all pre-programmed for the ease of their mission.
It was far superior to their previous craft, which was now sitting on the landing tower from which they had made planetfall and would probably become home to some sky-squirrels or something now.
The mens’ new ship was very small – certainly any more than two people trying to live inside it would be positively ruinous – but very comfortable. It was the height of luxury – the living quarters were compact, but not cramped. Carpeted in the sleeping areas, every chair and mattress made of some kind of memory foam that was so comfortable it might have surpassed ‘memory’ and gone straight to ‘consciousness’.
It was also equipped with the most advanced equipment available for gathering data – and not to mention it was armed to the teeth with a compact, but devastating array of ranged weapons. The thing even had an energy field ‘cone ram’, which would allow them if necessary to plow straight through an enemy vessel with hardly a scratch.
All in all, it was a damn fine ship.
It would have been an easy, two-day voyage to Dr. Allenberg’s directed location…
If they had ever made it.
-
The trip had gone smoothly so far. Half way there and they’d arrive by tomorrow. Traveling by stardrive was a complicated procedure of course – one could not simply go straight from one system to another without passing by anything else. After all – how did the stardrive get its’ energy?
In reality, spaceflight by stardrive was very much like ‘connecting the dots’ – shooting from one system to another, the drives collecting the immense sums of theoretical energy for the next shoot from the star, the planets, the movement of the universe. Of course, very few people actually bothered to pay much attention, since voyages could make thousands of such ‘stops’, passing through the outskirts of each system at a speed positively incomprehensible to the human mind.
It was this aspect of the stardrive which probably saved the mercenaries from a slow death-by-starvation.
It came from nowhere – the very same impossible, Mysterious Signal which was now causing unknowable chaos and discord on countless worlds. The Signal which would somehow alert the crew of Stella Viventium to the true location of the mythical Isandril.
Actually, the Signal affected the mercenaries’ small starship only subtly. It had exhibited totally random effects in everything it affected, and then it was gone as if it had never existed. In this case, no alarms blared, nothing exploded, nobody won the lottery. The only thing different about the little ship following that Signal was where it had once been on, now it was off.
The men might not have even noticed this change – after all, no alarms were needed to signify that the machine had been powered down, since typically it would be an intentional action. There was no change in the artificial gravity, which was a natural effect on starships. The stars before them continued to shoot by in their distant majesty.
But gradually, over the course of an hour or two, the ship was changing course. It was being pulled in by the gravity of a nearby star, only to shoot right past and get pulled off-course yet again by yet another star. This would not be something noticeable since the stars were passed at far above light-speed, unless someone was checking the computers to determine if their route had changed. Which, of course, it would not have…Under normal circumstances.
Eventually, if one looked out the front window of the machine, they would notice one particularly large star that seemed to be gradually growing larger. This would be the first obvious sign that something had gone wrong, and they were probably about to die swiftly and painfully. Naturally, the spacecraft would not respond to anything at all. It was quite determined to insert itself into the heart of that red giant, and nothing could stop it.
The only remaining course of action was pretty obvious – escape pod. Unfortunately, the starship was of such high quality that it was assumed lifeboats would be virtually unnecessary – there was of course a single, cramped escape pod – but it was a simple thing, and once the pair ejected from the doomed little starship they would be at the mercy of the gravitational fields.
How lucky that they would escape in time to be caught not in the field of the sun of which their luxurious vessel was now bound, but rather the gigantic, looming world of gloomy amethysts and obsidians that orbited the sun in a comfortable ‘Goldie-Locks-zone’…If perhaps slightly farther than one might like. It was going to be chilly down there.
Planetfall was mostly out of their control – but the pods were designed to withstand the heat of reentry and the kinetic absorption of a collision of any velocity. Consequentially, the pod came crashing down into a lake, bulleting through the thick, hazy (but, luckily, oxygen-rich) atmosphere and burning it up as it plummeted. It was a rough landing even despite the inertial dampeners inside, a good, solid jolt – and then they were still.
The splash was sure a sight to behold. Plumes of water sprayed hundreds of feet into the air. The lake – which itself was dismal, murky, and vaguely purple-tinted – was a good few feet shallower than it had been previously, and there was now a sizable crater at the bottom, and in the crater was an egg-shaped escape pod with a limited air supply.
But there would be a good chance of the men returning to the surface before running out of breath – actually, the lake was only a couple dozen feet deep, so they would have little trouble getting to the surface.
They would be met with intense darkness, intense, dredging rain battering down from above, and upon the shoreline in all directions a landscape of dense, sorrowful scrub and depressing flora – swampy, marsh-like land with lots of slimy things – some of which moved on their own.
So, that was something.
A R D E L L A
Incredibly, Royanna managed to actually sober up – quite suddenly, too. Granted, she was still clearly under the uncertain effects of the drug – there was a static electricity to her movements, an edginess in her voice and a tension about her as a whole – but she finally stopped laughing and gave Papyus a genuinely concerned look.
”Do you think it’s those CELL people from before? They could be under some serious cloaking tech if they’re registering as almost dead, but-“ The woman stopped mid sentence, seemingly distracted by her leg, and the fact that feeling had rather suddenly begun to return with the wearing off of the local anysthetic. Well, that was good. Still gripping Christofer with one hand on a shoulder – and leaning into him slightly as she did so – the woman stood on her good leg and flexed the recovering one some. Definitely starting to feel better.
If only the same could be said about the damned shoulder.
She continued without prompt, taking on a more matter-of-fact tone that she hadn’t spoken in for some time now. ”No, I’m being stupid. Modern soldiers wouldn’t be towing anything. It’s gonna’ be something...weird and probably more dangerous than the CELL clowns...You got any idea wha-“ She had for the latter part been addressing the new girl in the doorway – but when she looked up to where she had been – gone.
It would be at that moment, everyone else would realize too. Gone. Everyone would exchange glances – even Papyus, with her expansive sensor array, would have a hard time identifying the cause for this one.
She seemed to have disappeared in some infinitesimal half-second where she happened to be out of sight? Nobody could remember her disappearing, but clearly there had been a girl there.
Well, this was no time to be speculating.
With a huff of resignation, Royanna stretched her leg again, then toyed with the idea of putting weight on it – sore and not at full operational capacity, but she could fix that with another injection of 2-B...Or whatever it’s called. She’d just have to try and find a moment away from the kid-
Wait, no, who was she kidding? Royanna Kallenger could do whatever the @#$% she wanted. If she wanted to shoot up a dangerous, highly-potent experimental drug then that was her right, blast it! And if there was some kind of enemy incoming, she was going to make herself useful.
So it was at that point Royanna just went right ahead and slipped a second syringe from the back of her belt beneath the coat. She shrugged off one shoulder of it, exposing bare arm beneath the white short-sleeved T shirt she had been issued back on the Imperial cataloguer. One could see the minute bruising where an injection had already been applied. With haste, she wrapped the tourniquet about her arm, pulled it tight with her teeth and shot up.
What a rrrruuush!
Kind of.
Almost instantly, anything resembling pain dissipated into nothingness. She felt like a million dollars – and damned if her reflexes weren’t starting to heighten too! Yes, she would be useful in a fight now. At least, if a fight occurred in the next half hour or so. After that?
Well, she’d probably just need to take another dose.
And another.
And maybe another.
A deep breath through gritted teeth – there were dark circles under Kallenger’s eyes already, but she definitely looked to be feeling better. For now. She stood up straight, gave her arm a little shake to air out the stiffness, then drew her revolver and habitually checked the rounds, simultaneously running a finger along the little loops embedded in her belt which served to store the surplus. Well enough stocked. Enough for another fight or two. Conservation, Roya.
”Alright, I say we forget about the freaky ghost chick, and do what Papyus says and get the absolute @#$% out of this place.” A glance to Cox – she would be their best hope of getting out before whatever this new threat was could get them.
Most likely, their best chance would be to find the rail station which connected the Reserve Air Base to one of the Command posts, buried a good few miles away. The Air Base never should have been able to be accessed from the side they had gotten in on, and they wouldn’t have, if not for Kallenger’s sword. That other, connected bunker would likely be the only viable option for getting back to the surface. Even despite her chemically-induced morale-boost, Royanna was starting to feel like a rat in a maze.
A spooky underground maze where unknown bugbears were lurking just around the corner and readying themselves for a brutal attack.
”Y’okay Kid?” She asked Christofer huskily, but affectionately...in her own...unique way. She patted him on the back, perhaps a little too roughly.
They were going to have to move as a team on this one – as a single unit. The power of friendship.
D A E D A L U S
The soothing warmth of the brandy hadn’t the slightest chance to spread through him before Kete found that his silver flask had been abruptly confiscated. He appeared instantly to become at least marginally more alert – his jaw set firmly and eyes managed to lock a hard, fixed stare at the Special Agent. She was chiding him. Patronizing him for his size, despite the fact that she had seen with her own eyes what this orange-haired monster was capable of.
Of course, the idea that he should not be patronized because of what he was capable of never crossed his mind.
…Right?
No, of course such a thought would not cross his mind. Who did he think he was, anyway?
But despite how very irked he was finding himself at the moment, the haze of panic and desperation and…whatever else had come over him back in that control room – it was still fogging his mind, making him numb even to his own irritation. It was only because he was so naturally expressive that his irritation was showing now.
”Miss,” he said in a patient, yet sharp, low voice – if he hadn’t been so out of it, it would have been a pretty good performance, but as he was now the hollow, vacancy in his voice and demeanor seeped and saturated his every word. ”Please give that back. It was a gift.”
Yes, he had smiled weakly only moments ago – but now the emptiness was really starting to take over. There was a glazed look in his eye, and he seemed to look straight through the Special Agent, even as he held out his hand expectantly.
Regardless, Ketin wanted nothing more than to be left alone – with the exception of his own chosen company. That was all he had wanted for a very long time now, it seemed. But, admittedly it wasn’t true solitude he craved – but the peaceful, blissful ignorance that was so intrinsically linked to his vagabond lifestyle. How could he pretend to be someone else if people kept coming around to remind him what a dirty liar he was? A fraud – he had just shown Nirix that hadn’t he? He had at last revealed that he was, in fact, a seasoned deliverer of death, that he was capable of mowing his enemies down in graceful release. It was the question that haunted him constantly. Who was Kete; The vagabond or the killer? Who was the lie? Who was the facade built up around the inner truth for to shelter it from the judging eyes of others?
Nirix was standing over him now. Had he spaced out? To some extentit seemed – since out of polite-but-firm request or a simple snatching he found that the precious silver flask was again in his hand. Absently, he slipped it back into his coat pocket and muttered an almost indignant, but very detached and otherwise flat ”Thank you.”
Someone was speaking. They were offering him – what, drugs? Yes, and the habitual, instinctive check confirmed through the Eye that they were being honest about the contents of the vial. Indeed, still the eye worked its’ wonders, even when the spark left the host’s eyes and their vision went dim.
So, he could shoot up and forget the whole thing ever happened, yes?
To his own utter disbelief however, Kete found himself refusing.
Well, maybe even Kete had enough sense in that thick skull to know that now was simply not the time for that kind of escape. What was this nonsense about psycho trauma? No, he’d had enough of people injecting him with things and trying to manipulate him one way or another. Again, he was polite but firm, gesturing placatingly with his hands and speaking in empty, exhausted words.
And when the medic backed down and agreed not to touch him, that faint, world-weary smile returned – though for but a fleeting moment.
Again, more people were appearing. He knew the type immediately. Two soldiers and an officer type. Sure, she didn’t look like the conventional image of an officer, but then again, Thirteen had never looked like a City-Killer. Sure, she broke down into some cutesy, kiddish act, but they were still officers, with soldiers under their command – extensions of themselves to inflict death upon whomever the harmless looking girl wished. Soldiers who were bound by the Call of Duty of their own free will. Any excuse to kill, right?
No, Ketin had had quite enough of soldiers and officers whos’ very presence served as a constant, glaring reminder that he was no different. He’d had quite enough of everything. Damned if he couldn’t have just leaned back and let the brandy kick in. Nope. Now he needed to go get more.
They were reminiscing now, but Kete wasn’t paying attention to that. Most of them were inkspots in his mind – presumably, he figured, highly advanced psychodampeners...Far better even than what the DEU used – and that was deeply concerning.
And then, abruptly, it was apparently time to go. Hands were extending out toward himself and Nirix. Immediately, his reaction was to step back and give the teenage-looking girl that exhausted, exasperated stare. Cold, world-weary eyes gazed glossily from behind the stray rusty locks.
”We’re not going with you.” He said, with utter finality. ”We’ve got business here that doesn’t involve you, so we’ll be on our way.”
Then, without taking his eyes off the girl, he raised his voice some and addressed the newcomer android. ”GA-Eighty Three, please reassemble yourself – carefully, and follow me. Ny’, if anyone tries to stop any of us please non-lethally incapacitate them.”
The confounding part here was not that Kete had so much faith in the Eoclu’s incredible speed that he trusted her to take on all these soldiers with automatic weapons if the need arose – it was that even now, dead-to-the-world, tired-of-fighting – and he was still sounding like the type of man to give orders. Even his vocabulary fit it. He had already proven himself to be an incredible actor – but what kind of act was this?
It forced one to acknowledge the truth wherein one who’s every interaction, every action was some kind of act, there could simply be no non-acting state. It was impossible to tell when Ketin was not acting, because he was always acting – and therefore he was not an actor behind the many faces, but the faces alone, hollow and devoid of soul.
There was also the little matter of how the android had never actually introduced himself, yet he knew his designation. Again he found himself wondering just how much Nirix knew of his capabilities. Remembering whether or not someone knew he could read their minds and see through their eyes was quite possibly the most difficult and tedious aspect of having the blasted thing in his head.
Presently, Ketin stepped back – slowly, as to avoid rousing the trigger-happy gun-toters. Eyes locked on and through the girl.
And then, with an unsurpassed arrogance hidden beneath the dead-city-stare, Ketin Clarke spun on a heel and strode out the door, leaving Nirix and 83 to follow.
After all, what were they going to do – blast them to bits for leaving?
Kete would not halt until he was down one flight in the stairwell – there he would wait for Nirix and/or 86 to catch up if they had lagged behind for whatever reason.
And at last it was time to go – time again to leave it all behind, to forget it, to let it blend into the foggy psuedo-denial in the deepest fathoms of the mind. That’s all it seemed to be these days – more and more things to make himself forget.
It was only once the trio (Or duo, if 86 for some reason chose not to tag along) was back on the sidewalk and walking away from the dusty brick building with the clusters of antennae and dishes and arrays sprouting up from the rooftops that Ketin showed any sign of tension. It came in the form of a rather high pitched sigh, as if he had been holding his breath to anticipate a shot to the back of the neck.
Then, still walking, trying to put as much distance between them and the soldiers as possible without outright sprinting, he let the tired smile return – though there was some meekness to it. It was the sheepishness that often seemed to follow a display of authority or confidence. Was it a sign that the arrogant act was in fact just an act, and possibly a strain to maintain? Or maybe the shyness that seemed to follow was an act in itself, intended to make him seem that much more harmless?
He did not speak a word. Once they were a good five blocks from the orbital security station, Kete turned suddenly to diverge down an alley between two brick and cement buildings. He did not venture very far however – he just let himself fall back against one wall, then slide down to the asphalt ground – and then he just sat there.
Just sat there and trembled and stared blankly, wide-eyed forward. There was an intensity in the blankness – as if he were only now allowing himself stop and let out all the tension that had built up over the course of the past events.
A deep breath. And another. Gradually, the white sound of the city began to wash over him. The sound of life. He certainly did not look to be at peace, and to be sure he was far from it – but at very least now he had a moment where he could separate himself from the imminent peril and recuperate his weary mind.
He could also absently ponder why there seemed to be a feeling in the back of his head which, he had never felt before – something that was not there before, but was not malevolent – and no matter how hard he tried to put it into perspective, he could only describe it as...
b l u e.
N O T S P A C E – The Kingsbane
He was smiling again! More broadly this time, too. Good. That made it pretty clear – talking normal is bad, talking like they do is good. Got it. Now all she had to do was figure out what their sounds actually meant, and this was going to be quite the challenge considering she had nothing to work off of. Well, she could make the sounds, anyway, even if the context was alien to her. That was apparently good enough, at least for now – she’d just have to use words when it seemed like they wanted her to say something, and hope that they were the right ones.
Still following along, still sticking dreadfully near, she was just rubbernecking some arbitrary, meaningless wall fixture when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man’s goggles had changed.
Well drat. Now she wanted even more to poke at them! But still her self restraint kept the urge at bay. She could touch other things.
The man started talking then. Talking a lot, woah. Was he talking to her? She thought not, though there was no way to be sure. What was under those goggles? Oh, wait a second, that was a really cheerful smile! That was good. She couldn’t help but smile herself now, glancing about from everyday object to unimportant detail. She certainly did not appear to be listening to what the Doctor was saying.
A lot of talking, then he paused and looked toward her. It made her a little bit nervous, and she gave a sidelong glance away from him. Camera shy? Not that she could possibly have known what the red things on the goggles meant.
Oh. Oh! He was talking again, and this time to her! ...Right? Well, he was looking at her and talking, so he must be talking to her. The smile faded slightly, but due to thoughtfulness rather than a depressant of her mirroring cheery mood. But when he finally stopped talking, he looked away again.
This was some confusing stuff. Should she repeat his words back to him again? No, she got the feeling he wasn’t looking for a response. That was okay – it left her free to focus on the change of environment as they transitioned from the white-walled research department into the place where everything was steel and steel-grey. The demon’s voice was gone, that was good. Very good.
He halted.
She halted.
He made as if to throw something in a trash can.
She leaned over to see what was in the trash can.
He looked back at her, smiled again. Then he shoved that dreadful little box back into her hands, and she reflexively took it. It took half a second to register what had just happened, and the expression of dread – indeed, something approaching betrayal, fell over her like a wet sheet. Gaping at the evil box, she even made a rather comical little whimpering sound in her disbelief. He had continued walking, but it took her a moment to realize this, tear her eyes off the box and scamper right up close again.
Admittedly, part of her was downright irritated. Why had he waited this long to inform her that she had given the box to the wrong person? It was unheard of. Just the fact that she had done something incorrectly and been allowed to continue existing...
So he was going to take her to the Arch Demon – the source of the incorporeal voice that had terrorized the new place and her in particular. She was going to have to give him the box. Fine. She had this. Her curiosity had not been dampened by this tragic turn of events, even though most of her attention was now focused on preparing to face the Lord of Evil. She still rubbernecked everyone that went by – the man was saying something to most of them. Maybe she should try that?
No, not while she had the box. It was some kind of bad thing, nobody else wanted it, and most people seemed to recoil from her presence when she initially was given it, so it would be best to bear this burden alone. Once it was taken care of, then she could focus on the talking.
Double doors. A grotesque image printed on matte-black metal. The girl stopped, looked at it with wide eyes and seemed to lean back slightly – curiously, she looked more confused and revolted by it than frightened..Though she was still more than a little frightened, and it showed. A skull biting something, with something on its head. The pair stood there for a moment as she studied the image with a slowly mounting anxiety. She glanced back to the box for a moment, then to the man – who was, to her eyes, just staring at the door.
Well damn it, what was she supposed to do now?
Maybe he wanted her to open the door.
Fine, but how? These doors were different from the other ones.
After a moment, she started to move toward it, then hesitated, stopped. Again she started to reach toward it, then pulled her hand away hesitantly. She glanced between the man and the door a few times as if to wordlessly urge him to open it instead, an expression somewhere in the median between frightened, baffled and...a little irritated, actually.
He was smiling still – what in the world would he be smiling about while looking at that awful image? But wait – there was a quirk to that smile, she realized. So far, most peoples’ expressions were plenty familiar to her, so she was confident she had a grasp on the body language, and it looked a whole lot like he was finding something amusing.
Her, obviously.
As the realization of this set in, the girl gave a clearly exasperated huff, gave a determined and somewhat irritated pout. Then, as if specifically to say ’Well I’ll show you then!’ She stepped confidently forward and without the slightest regard for what evils might lie in waiting on the other side, threw open the doors!
...
Or, she was trying, anyway.
The girl had become determined to walk up to that evil thing and hand it the box, just to get back at the man for messing with her – but she couldn’t get the stupid things open. She tried pushing, pulling, lifting, yanking, prying, anything she could think of (It was awkward, still trying to hold the box under her arm while she did all this and not drop it) and her expressions grew slowly more amusing as she went along. The determination and indignation melted into outright frustration and a distinct loathing for these stupid, complicated doors. The frustration transitioned to add nervousness into the mix. Finally she was looking rather dismayed and helpless, while trying really hard to continue looking like she was irritated and determined and fearless.
And, to an extent, she still was – but the humiliation of not being able to open the door was like a miserable aftertaste to her stalwartness.
If the man did not decide to open the door himself while she was still trying worthlessly to do it herself, she would eventually give up, growling some and giving the door a loathsome kick as if to tell it that she was done trying. Then she stepped back with arms crossed – holding the box rather limply in one hand, showing that she was indeed still too riled up by his little prank to be too frightened of the coming encounter – gave another huff and glared at the door. She looked at him as if to say ’fine, you win, jerk’ and waited.
And she was still afraid – but damned if she was going to back down from that Demon yet. No, when Severin did finally open the door, she would stride right beside him (Still too closely) and look that Arch Demon right in the eye.
N O T S P A C E – Isandril
Deep within the heart of the ancient Machine City of Isandril, Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc slammed a fist once again down onto a helpless, featureless control panel which was only trying to help. His rapidly growing fury and desperation was, however, nuanced with the realization that it was actually kind of nice to get rip-roaring @#$%ed off and freak out about it. He had been controlling his emotions so carefully for so long – and now, for as long as he was in this place where the laws of time and space meant nothing, there was no such concern. No threat of winking out of existence should he become too unstable. Someone in his unique position needed to keep a hold of themselves.
But presently the man was furious. They had come all this way, and for what? To be handed a power unlike any which the Galaxy – indeed, the Universe had never known – but what use was it if he didn’t know how to use the damned thing? It didn’t have a simple terminal like the Drives on the Stella. This was First People technology. Even the basic things were beyond his comprehension – indeed, beyond the technical comprehension of anyone who wasn’t a First, due to the simple incompatibility. It was all unlogic – it could not be, but was.
Worse still, so what if Isandril was a single, super-massive Notspace Drive? What good was it? That fact in itself would not lead him back to Earth of Sol. There had to be clues. There had to be!
Surely that Mysterious Signal must have come from somewhere. Reasonably, Aelyn extrapolated that it must have originated from here – after all, how else would a meaningless, garbled code provide the information necessary to locate one of the precious few worlds that had been somehow hidden from the all-seeing eyes of the Lords for immeasurable time…
”How the @#$% was it that the Dimensional Lords couldn’t find this place before we did?” He asked suddenly. Alexa did not appear to be listening – but of course, she always was. Multitasking, hunched over a similarly featureless control panel and indulging herself in continuing the meticulous search for what A.P. was too hotheaded to find. There would be something in there, she was sure of it – some little gem.
”I was wondering how long it’d take you to ask that~” the woman teased, still not turning to look at him.
Amusingly, he found his temper subsiding somewhat. Even after all this time she was still utterly charming.
”Well?”
”Oh I’m not saying I know or anything. But I’ve been trying to figure out.”
In the pre-ancient times, the beginning-times, the Lords had burned Isandril until it was a chafed, desolate sphere of dust and sand – but then what? Had they merely left it there, under the assumption that since none of the First People were left to operate the forbidden technology that it would be naught but some useless rock? No, Aelyn-Paeryc’s experience with the Lords was limited, but having been immensely long-lived himself and of a similarly scaled epitome of power for the mortal realm, he knew how people like them tended to think. They would do nothing without a reason.
Currently, they were in Notspace – meaning that there were not present in Realspace. But where exactly in Realspace was the planet? Everybody had been so excited to have found the mythical world. They somehow managed to extract galactic coordinates from the garbled nonsense, send a probe, and determine that they had indeed found Isandril and its’ little white dwarf. Then they had simply used the Notspace Drives to slip through to their discovery.
Think, stupid. How had his people determined with such haste that the planet was the one they sought? Notspace radiation, of course – the place was radiating it like mad. He checked his BrainPal™ logs and glanced through them – it had been registering incredible levels. The kind of levels that the Stella let off when it entered or exited Notspace…
It hit him like a brick. Like a gold brick with a slice of lemon wrapped around it. The answer was obvious.
“The planet was in Notspace.” Alexa said casually, just as Aelyn-Paeryc was about to say the exact same words. There was a moment of silence, preceding a flurry of brainstorming.
” How was it that the only race able to technologically surpass the Lords was defeated by what would surely be inferior weaponry?”
”If they thought they were the only race in existence at the time, they never would have needed to develop weaponry at all – and they would have had to be a naturally cooperative, non-violent people to reach the tech levels they did. But why didn’t they just throw the planet into Notspace when the Lords’ attack first started?”
”Something may have prevented them from doing so. But it doesn’t explain how the planet then entered notspace after the attack.”
”Maybe there were a couple survivors? No, I guess that doesn’t fit. They wouldn’t have allowed it and the city’d have been under guard… Besides, the real question-“
“Is how and why the planet reappeared.”
”It reappeared at the same time that Signal showed up. It might have been-“
”Broadcast from the planet itself. It only makes sense that Drives this big and advanced-“”
”Would be capable of broadcasting a signal simultaneously throughout the universe and leave no trace behind.”
The floor trembled. Their conversation halted.
Returning his full attention to the console, Aelyn-Paeryc tried to manufacture some means of allowing their BrainPal™ signals to penetrate this strange, central chamber. It was actually entirely by chance that he managed to do so.
-Captain where the @#$% have you been?!
It was the equivalent of a furious, berating scream from his Chief Analyst that took the foreground of his attention, overlaying a terrible flurry of information which proved so overwhelming that he had to hastily block it out.
He had, of course, been fully aware of the situation on the surface – ever since he had managed to bring up those various little windows which showed him real-time footage from various arbitrary vantage points around the planet. It had not concerned him. He watched impassively as the Dendril beast rammed the walls, fired lasers – killed some of Rivierre’s security team. It was a mess up there.
For an instant, he thought he saw the faintest flicker of blue somewhere about the Dendril creature’s head.
No, probably nothing. Some byproduct of the creatures lasers probably, or maybe some meaningless anomaly on the part of the incorporeal screen.
That monster was going to cause a lot of trouble in the long run, he knew. Now that the planet was in his possession, he was quite sure that nobody was going to take it – but he couldn’t have that thing scurrying around killing people. That would slow progress considerably.
He didn’t really need anyone on the surface, though – he needed someone down here, rooting through the First People’s equivalent of computer databanks – and he had a serious notion that anyone who wasn’t like himself and Alexa would probably cease to exist if they entered this chamber physically.
So they were stuck here. Fine. There was no way for the Dendril to reach them, so fine.
-Immediate evacuation of the planet. Isha, get another dropship down there and bring everyone home. Alexa and I are staying here for the time being.
The BrainPal™ transmissions were awfully ‘quiet’ now that he was muffling most of it out for the sake of his focus. There was a pause. He had expected a response from Lastrow. It came delayed, and with it an icy claw gripped Aelyn-Paeryc’s stomach.
-Captain. The Dendril ships are moving.
Beneath the surface of Planet Gyros
Shortly following the appearance of Stella Viventium
in orbit around Planet Earth IV...
A voice deep and rich, almost sultry in warmth, yet ragged and hollow like ancient, flayed silk.
"My L̴a͝d̛y..."
"Wh͡at brings you to me so̶ ͜s͘o̶on?"
"P̢l͡e͞as̶e My Lady, get not the wrong impression. I can think of no better visitor."
"I see.Th̷e̷y ͘ha̸v͏e r͝et͠uŗne͡d͡ t̷̶̶h͠en?"
"The brother of P̢͘á̸͞ȩry͟͢c̛ ̷̕͘P̨e̶̛t͘͢͡r̛҉ov͞a͞l͢y͘͠c͜? Surely you jest..."
"It must be quite a dire situation My Lady, for my f͢r͞e̴ed̷o̢ḿ to be gra͢n̴t́ed once more."
"But of course, My Lady, only the sh́o͏rtest ͢lȩa͏sh."
"A s̵ev̕erè ͜ḑán͞ge̷r ̷i͟ndee͝d̀..͏. I mean not to doubt your judgement but...You know I am... u̳͉̫͇nw̢̳̦ę͉̼̘l̻l.̯̟.."
"It could be...dang̶ero͏u͠s."
"It could be...d̀i̧sàstrou͞s͢."
"Once I have left this place...You know there will be only so much you can do."
"Well, I certainly can't deny a chance given by My Lad͡y͞ ̵to again roam the spaceways a̸nd b̶r̢i̶ng d͠o͞wn ̀h͇̀e̱͍̥̞̮͘ͅi͉͇͍̬͍ͅͅn͎̯̗͠o̴͓̠̩͎̲u͙̺̟̙̼͇s̕ ̼͈̬̕ͅḑ͈͈̙͔is̠̟̙̀a̪͓͉̲̰̠s̷͚̯͇̬̤͕̭t̠̳e̜̫̳̜̯̕r upon the hap̶leśs e͞ńe͏m̢i͟es o҉f the̛ La҉d̢y̶ ̀Cơds̸w҉ort͟h."
"̧Yes, My La͜d͜y҉.̸.͝."
"͢A͜s y̡ou ́w̶ish̡,͡ My͡ ͝L̛a̵d̶y҉..̷."͏
"P͜o̶r ͘t̶i͜ ͝y͞o ҉c̡am̢b͡ia̸r͝ e͝l rum̡b̕o de ͝l̸as̡ ͏e͠str̢eĺl̸a͟s͝ ͟mi͡smas,̡ ͡M̡̫̺i̥̼͞ ̻̰̘̟͓͇S̻̹̪̯̪é̩̟̩̯͎̠ͅñ͕́o̠r͍͓͉̭̲͘a͏ ̜͙D̖͞u̲̭l̶͓̫̠̺̩͓c͓̘͎i͠n͡ea̠̣̰.̷̗̻̘͇͎.̻̖̞͕̳͚̖͢.͙̺̭̗͍̫̕"̪͓͇͉͓̪
N O T S P A C E
He stood aboard the long derelict Dendril battleship, a tall and wide-shouldered, grey-suited body hunched heavily over a control panel which was never designed for human hands - nor hands that even resembled those of a human. The lights flickered and sparked only dimly and intermittently, though the Dendril themselves had no exceptional need for it. Creatures of blackness and eternal night, devourers of all what stood before them - he had rarely felt so very at home, regardless of whether or not the metallic, insectoid beings appreciated, or merely tolerated the madman's presence there. He was alone within the chamber, and yet no light was needed, for the ethereal non-glow of Notspace permeated this chamber, where conventional means of illumination served for the remainder of the ships as it did in any enclosed environment.
This ancient vessel needed no input from his hands, which seemed to flicker and shift between translucent half-existence and opalescent solidity. His entire body seemed in constant transition between existence and nothingness. He was here, he was a million places at once, his mind was scattered across eons and yet condensed here. He was The Broken Man, He Who Transitioned, The Transcended One - the Dimensional Shadow of Madness of whom even many of the most powerful Lords held a mote of fear in the back of their expansive minds. Far from overwhelming power and yet dwelling within the emptiness of his face was that which no living being of any realm could hope to comprehend - the cosmic horror of the thoroughly unknowable - and yet here he was, semi-existent, unreality incarnate, let loose upon the mortal realm once more.
His voice carried itself where he wished, within the sporadic and ever-changing limits of his consciousness which flitted about him. It was a faint whisper to some, a bellowing warcry to others.
You do me well, mi camaradas." He said, that deep and resonant voice beautiful in the chaos behind it, the mystifying impossibility of the failed melding of forbidden technology with the sentient mind. He was confident, he was serene. Tones of words carried themselves to the other ships, to those which dragged his own vessel, trailing smoke, limp and yet armed with inconceivable firepower, armored to unreasonability, a death machine in tow by interstellar, Gatling-gunned-tugboats.
One hand lifted from the old console, as lips formed into a wide and toothy grin, fingers clenching suddenly into a hard fist.
"We do today t͞͞h̷e̡ i̧͟͡m̧͡p̡̛͞o̷̕̕s͢si͘͟͡bl̡͠͠e̢̡!̵͝" He bellowed, "We break the t̴y̸ra͟nt r̡u̴le͢ of their unreality, we take on this day̧ ̶w͜hat is r̀igh̸t̨fu̶l̵l̶y ̢o͏u͠ŗs!" And the words resonated through the companion vessels.
"W̸e̕ ͜m̧o̴ve i͢n ̛N͠o̢t͝spac̨e,̢ m͝i h́e̵r̢m̧aǹos͢ ͠d́im̡ens̢i̢oǹale͏s̀!̡ We break their laws for to circumvent our own. Soon mi camaradas we will storm the streets of Isandril and feast upon the arrogant mortals who therefore reside and nothing - n̶͈o̵͍̻͇t͙̗̪̺̘ͅh͙̰̜̫͔́į͍͙n̳̖g͍̙̟̠̞̣ ̖̖̫c̬̲͍̬̱̳͡a̵̖̹̠̞͇̠̥n͔͚͝ ̲͇̫̰s̡t̴̻̟̳o҉͎̟̥̺p̞̗͙͡ ̠̱̘͙̮͓́ṳ̭̩͞s̠̳̰̫͎̬͉ ̶̤͕̳̠͚ņ̣͇͉̤͍͎̹ǫw̬͈͔̪͙͜!̰̳̱"
Mad, baying laughter, beyond menacing in the insanity hinted therein, the utter madness behind The Faceless Man.
In the blackness of Notspace, the Dendril vessels moved. Slowly, slowly, sluggishly, but they moved - they achieved the impossible, the broke laws not of physics, nor of space or time, but of existence, of reality and unreality, laws fundamental to the potential of everything knowable and otherwise. The creatures within the ships cranked away, adjusting their weapons slowly but surely, preparing to aim them and to strike true at the heart of their enemy, to shatter the conventions and bring destruction down upon those who sought to stand in the path of their righteous leader and their ravenous hunger.
The vessels were moving, and closing in upon their destination - The great Stella Viventium command module and the ancient, mythical world of lost Isandril. It was so close he could taste it - it would not be long now before the blood of the infernal Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc stained his fingers, before the power of the impeccable First People was at last where it belonged - in the hands of His Lady Erica Codsworth.
On the surface of the world, where the ghosts of those so long deceased resonated their unchanging nonexistence, where a hulking mechanical beast roared and battered at the unyielding walls of The Eternal Machine-City, a voice whispered of which the ancient Dendril alone would hear. Even to Dendril ears the voice was unreal, insinuating the telltale unreality and instability which made the man who was The Shadow Over Himself enemy of friend and foe alike.
“Would you care for some assistance, b̨̨ i̵ g͜͟ ̧b r̴̸ ó͜ t͘ h̵̕ e͡ r̵̀ ~?”
Shortly before the departure of Stella Viventium from Earth IV high-orbit...
They had been personally issued a brand-new private starship, courtesy of Doctor Relan Allenberg, immediately following his long-winded explanation about how he had supposedly located the mythical Lost World of Isandril that all the old legends told of. He had devoted thirty years of his life to the endeavor of seeking it out, researching day and night every scrap of information he could muster up, devoting long, late hours to poring over and over questionable documents. In his early years, he had invested well and the money had come pouring in with little effort. With the help of the few friends he had, Allenberg became very rapidly one of the wealthiest individuals on his home planet of Merinosca – which he had even to this day never actually left.
It was this excessive wealth which allowed him to pursue the endless research. Needless to say, when it came time to organize an expedition to see at last whether or not his theories proved true, money was no object.
Of course, he was an intelligent man, and the possibility that he was tragically incorrect was one that he was scientifically forced to acknowledge. It would be both humiliating and utterly depressing if he brought together the greatest minds and explorers of his world together and sent them on such an adventure only to discover that what he’d thought was Isandril was actually an uninhabited asteroid.
So he was going to need to test the waters – to send someone comparatively unimportant to go check it out and give him word. Sure, he could have commissioned one of the big companies to stop by that particular location, but that would be stupid for obvious reasons. If there truly was a great treasure on Isandril, it would be his alone.
As such, he decided to put some effort into researching capable, trustworthy mercenaries for the purpose – it did not take him long to decide on Metaralis Outteridge and Delastarh Nagahoshi as being the best option. He would be an open book – he would pay them extensively as proof that he was serious – he would explain everything he had learned and then he would send them to the location at which the mythical Lost World was purportedly waiting.
He had invited them to his penthouse home, offered them drinks, sat down and spoke long and hard of his findings, his intentions, his motives. He did not attempt to disguise the fact that he believed there was a great treasure there, and that he intended to have it to himself – the obscene sum of payment he was offering the two men was more than enough that they would not want to go making off with his prize once it was within his grasp.
He re-told them the legend – how the First People with their great civilization had thrived in the ancient world long ago, long before the seemingly infinite depth of written history. How they suddenly disappeared, but left behind a vault of treasure and knowledge as a proof that they had once existed and a means of leaving behind that which their civilization had created. He told of the ancient guardian – a machine left behind that would judge the will and intentions of whoever found it, and decide whether or not to allow them to open the vault. All this they had heard before.
Then he explained to them that he had reason to believe the legends were possibly true – he had calculated with painstaking, meticulous effort the possible trajectory and path which the planet would have taken under the assumption of its’ starting at the ‘center’ of the Universe.
The job was a simple one. The mercenaries were to go to the specified location and conduct a thorough scan of the world they found, then return to him for further instructions. He had given them a brand new ship and told them to keep it. It was equipped with all the equipment required for his scan, all pre-programmed for the ease of their mission.
It was far superior to their previous craft, which was now sitting on the landing tower from which they had made planetfall and would probably become home to some sky-squirrels or something now.
The mens’ new ship was very small – certainly any more than two people trying to live inside it would be positively ruinous – but very comfortable. It was the height of luxury – the living quarters were compact, but not cramped. Carpeted in the sleeping areas, every chair and mattress made of some kind of memory foam that was so comfortable it might have surpassed ‘memory’ and gone straight to ‘consciousness’.
It was also equipped with the most advanced equipment available for gathering data – and not to mention it was armed to the teeth with a compact, but devastating array of ranged weapons. The thing even had an energy field ‘cone ram’, which would allow them if necessary to plow straight through an enemy vessel with hardly a scratch.
All in all, it was a damn fine ship.
It would have been an easy, two-day voyage to Dr. Allenberg’s directed location…
If they had ever made it.
-
The trip had gone smoothly so far. Half way there and they’d arrive by tomorrow. Traveling by stardrive was a complicated procedure of course – one could not simply go straight from one system to another without passing by anything else. After all – how did the stardrive get its’ energy?
In reality, spaceflight by stardrive was very much like ‘connecting the dots’ – shooting from one system to another, the drives collecting the immense sums of theoretical energy for the next shoot from the star, the planets, the movement of the universe. Of course, very few people actually bothered to pay much attention, since voyages could make thousands of such ‘stops’, passing through the outskirts of each system at a speed positively incomprehensible to the human mind.
It was this aspect of the stardrive which probably saved the mercenaries from a slow death-by-starvation.
It came from nowhere – the very same impossible, Mysterious Signal which was now causing unknowable chaos and discord on countless worlds. The Signal which would somehow alert the crew of Stella Viventium to the true location of the mythical Isandril.
Actually, the Signal affected the mercenaries’ small starship only subtly. It had exhibited totally random effects in everything it affected, and then it was gone as if it had never existed. In this case, no alarms blared, nothing exploded, nobody won the lottery. The only thing different about the little ship following that Signal was where it had once been on, now it was off.
The men might not have even noticed this change – after all, no alarms were needed to signify that the machine had been powered down, since typically it would be an intentional action. There was no change in the artificial gravity, which was a natural effect on starships. The stars before them continued to shoot by in their distant majesty.
But gradually, over the course of an hour or two, the ship was changing course. It was being pulled in by the gravity of a nearby star, only to shoot right past and get pulled off-course yet again by yet another star. This would not be something noticeable since the stars were passed at far above light-speed, unless someone was checking the computers to determine if their route had changed. Which, of course, it would not have…Under normal circumstances.
Eventually, if one looked out the front window of the machine, they would notice one particularly large star that seemed to be gradually growing larger. This would be the first obvious sign that something had gone wrong, and they were probably about to die swiftly and painfully. Naturally, the spacecraft would not respond to anything at all. It was quite determined to insert itself into the heart of that red giant, and nothing could stop it.
The only remaining course of action was pretty obvious – escape pod. Unfortunately, the starship was of such high quality that it was assumed lifeboats would be virtually unnecessary – there was of course a single, cramped escape pod – but it was a simple thing, and once the pair ejected from the doomed little starship they would be at the mercy of the gravitational fields.
How lucky that they would escape in time to be caught not in the field of the sun of which their luxurious vessel was now bound, but rather the gigantic, looming world of gloomy amethysts and obsidians that orbited the sun in a comfortable ‘Goldie-Locks-zone’…If perhaps slightly farther than one might like. It was going to be chilly down there.
Planetfall was mostly out of their control – but the pods were designed to withstand the heat of reentry and the kinetic absorption of a collision of any velocity. Consequentially, the pod came crashing down into a lake, bulleting through the thick, hazy (but, luckily, oxygen-rich) atmosphere and burning it up as it plummeted. It was a rough landing even despite the inertial dampeners inside, a good, solid jolt – and then they were still.
The splash was sure a sight to behold. Plumes of water sprayed hundreds of feet into the air. The lake – which itself was dismal, murky, and vaguely purple-tinted – was a good few feet shallower than it had been previously, and there was now a sizable crater at the bottom, and in the crater was an egg-shaped escape pod with a limited air supply.
But there would be a good chance of the men returning to the surface before running out of breath – actually, the lake was only a couple dozen feet deep, so they would have little trouble getting to the surface.
They would be met with intense darkness, intense, dredging rain battering down from above, and upon the shoreline in all directions a landscape of dense, sorrowful scrub and depressing flora – swampy, marsh-like land with lots of slimy things – some of which moved on their own.
So, that was something.
A R D E L L A
Incredibly, Royanna managed to actually sober up – quite suddenly, too. Granted, she was still clearly under the uncertain effects of the drug – there was a static electricity to her movements, an edginess in her voice and a tension about her as a whole – but she finally stopped laughing and gave Papyus a genuinely concerned look.
”Do you think it’s those CELL people from before? They could be under some serious cloaking tech if they’re registering as almost dead, but-“ The woman stopped mid sentence, seemingly distracted by her leg, and the fact that feeling had rather suddenly begun to return with the wearing off of the local anysthetic. Well, that was good. Still gripping Christofer with one hand on a shoulder – and leaning into him slightly as she did so – the woman stood on her good leg and flexed the recovering one some. Definitely starting to feel better.
If only the same could be said about the damned shoulder.
She continued without prompt, taking on a more matter-of-fact tone that she hadn’t spoken in for some time now. ”No, I’m being stupid. Modern soldiers wouldn’t be towing anything. It’s gonna’ be something...weird and probably more dangerous than the CELL clowns...You got any idea wha-“ She had for the latter part been addressing the new girl in the doorway – but when she looked up to where she had been – gone.
It would be at that moment, everyone else would realize too. Gone. Everyone would exchange glances – even Papyus, with her expansive sensor array, would have a hard time identifying the cause for this one.
She seemed to have disappeared in some infinitesimal half-second where she happened to be out of sight? Nobody could remember her disappearing, but clearly there had been a girl there.
Well, this was no time to be speculating.
With a huff of resignation, Royanna stretched her leg again, then toyed with the idea of putting weight on it – sore and not at full operational capacity, but she could fix that with another injection of 2-B...Or whatever it’s called. She’d just have to try and find a moment away from the kid-
Wait, no, who was she kidding? Royanna Kallenger could do whatever the @#$% she wanted. If she wanted to shoot up a dangerous, highly-potent experimental drug then that was her right, blast it! And if there was some kind of enemy incoming, she was going to make herself useful.
So it was at that point Royanna just went right ahead and slipped a second syringe from the back of her belt beneath the coat. She shrugged off one shoulder of it, exposing bare arm beneath the white short-sleeved T shirt she had been issued back on the Imperial cataloguer. One could see the minute bruising where an injection had already been applied. With haste, she wrapped the tourniquet about her arm, pulled it tight with her teeth and shot up.
What a rrrruuush!
Kind of.
Almost instantly, anything resembling pain dissipated into nothingness. She felt like a million dollars – and damned if her reflexes weren’t starting to heighten too! Yes, she would be useful in a fight now. At least, if a fight occurred in the next half hour or so. After that?
Well, she’d probably just need to take another dose.
And another.
And maybe another.
A deep breath through gritted teeth – there were dark circles under Kallenger’s eyes already, but she definitely looked to be feeling better. For now. She stood up straight, gave her arm a little shake to air out the stiffness, then drew her revolver and habitually checked the rounds, simultaneously running a finger along the little loops embedded in her belt which served to store the surplus. Well enough stocked. Enough for another fight or two. Conservation, Roya.
”Alright, I say we forget about the freaky ghost chick, and do what Papyus says and get the absolute @#$% out of this place.” A glance to Cox – she would be their best hope of getting out before whatever this new threat was could get them.
Most likely, their best chance would be to find the rail station which connected the Reserve Air Base to one of the Command posts, buried a good few miles away. The Air Base never should have been able to be accessed from the side they had gotten in on, and they wouldn’t have, if not for Kallenger’s sword. That other, connected bunker would likely be the only viable option for getting back to the surface. Even despite her chemically-induced morale-boost, Royanna was starting to feel like a rat in a maze.
A spooky underground maze where unknown bugbears were lurking just around the corner and readying themselves for a brutal attack.
”Y’okay Kid?” She asked Christofer huskily, but affectionately...in her own...unique way. She patted him on the back, perhaps a little too roughly.
They were going to have to move as a team on this one – as a single unit. The power of friendship.
D A E D A L U S
The soothing warmth of the brandy hadn’t the slightest chance to spread through him before Kete found that his silver flask had been abruptly confiscated. He appeared instantly to become at least marginally more alert – his jaw set firmly and eyes managed to lock a hard, fixed stare at the Special Agent. She was chiding him. Patronizing him for his size, despite the fact that she had seen with her own eyes what this orange-haired monster was capable of.
Of course, the idea that he should not be patronized because of what he was capable of never crossed his mind.
…Right?
No, of course such a thought would not cross his mind. Who did he think he was, anyway?
But despite how very irked he was finding himself at the moment, the haze of panic and desperation and…whatever else had come over him back in that control room – it was still fogging his mind, making him numb even to his own irritation. It was only because he was so naturally expressive that his irritation was showing now.
”Miss,” he said in a patient, yet sharp, low voice – if he hadn’t been so out of it, it would have been a pretty good performance, but as he was now the hollow, vacancy in his voice and demeanor seeped and saturated his every word. ”Please give that back. It was a gift.”
Yes, he had smiled weakly only moments ago – but now the emptiness was really starting to take over. There was a glazed look in his eye, and he seemed to look straight through the Special Agent, even as he held out his hand expectantly.
Regardless, Ketin wanted nothing more than to be left alone – with the exception of his own chosen company. That was all he had wanted for a very long time now, it seemed. But, admittedly it wasn’t true solitude he craved – but the peaceful, blissful ignorance that was so intrinsically linked to his vagabond lifestyle. How could he pretend to be someone else if people kept coming around to remind him what a dirty liar he was? A fraud – he had just shown Nirix that hadn’t he? He had at last revealed that he was, in fact, a seasoned deliverer of death, that he was capable of mowing his enemies down in graceful release. It was the question that haunted him constantly. Who was Kete; The vagabond or the killer? Who was the lie? Who was the facade built up around the inner truth for to shelter it from the judging eyes of others?
Nirix was standing over him now. Had he spaced out? To some extentit seemed – since out of polite-but-firm request or a simple snatching he found that the precious silver flask was again in his hand. Absently, he slipped it back into his coat pocket and muttered an almost indignant, but very detached and otherwise flat ”Thank you.”
Someone was speaking. They were offering him – what, drugs? Yes, and the habitual, instinctive check confirmed through the Eye that they were being honest about the contents of the vial. Indeed, still the eye worked its’ wonders, even when the spark left the host’s eyes and their vision went dim.
So, he could shoot up and forget the whole thing ever happened, yes?
To his own utter disbelief however, Kete found himself refusing.
Well, maybe even Kete had enough sense in that thick skull to know that now was simply not the time for that kind of escape. What was this nonsense about psycho trauma? No, he’d had enough of people injecting him with things and trying to manipulate him one way or another. Again, he was polite but firm, gesturing placatingly with his hands and speaking in empty, exhausted words.
And when the medic backed down and agreed not to touch him, that faint, world-weary smile returned – though for but a fleeting moment.
Again, more people were appearing. He knew the type immediately. Two soldiers and an officer type. Sure, she didn’t look like the conventional image of an officer, but then again, Thirteen had never looked like a City-Killer. Sure, she broke down into some cutesy, kiddish act, but they were still officers, with soldiers under their command – extensions of themselves to inflict death upon whomever the harmless looking girl wished. Soldiers who were bound by the Call of Duty of their own free will. Any excuse to kill, right?
No, Ketin had had quite enough of soldiers and officers whos’ very presence served as a constant, glaring reminder that he was no different. He’d had quite enough of everything. Damned if he couldn’t have just leaned back and let the brandy kick in. Nope. Now he needed to go get more.
They were reminiscing now, but Kete wasn’t paying attention to that. Most of them were inkspots in his mind – presumably, he figured, highly advanced psychodampeners...Far better even than what the DEU used – and that was deeply concerning.
And then, abruptly, it was apparently time to go. Hands were extending out toward himself and Nirix. Immediately, his reaction was to step back and give the teenage-looking girl that exhausted, exasperated stare. Cold, world-weary eyes gazed glossily from behind the stray rusty locks.
”We’re not going with you.” He said, with utter finality. ”We’ve got business here that doesn’t involve you, so we’ll be on our way.”
Then, without taking his eyes off the girl, he raised his voice some and addressed the newcomer android. ”GA-Eighty Three, please reassemble yourself – carefully, and follow me. Ny’, if anyone tries to stop any of us please non-lethally incapacitate them.”
The confounding part here was not that Kete had so much faith in the Eoclu’s incredible speed that he trusted her to take on all these soldiers with automatic weapons if the need arose – it was that even now, dead-to-the-world, tired-of-fighting – and he was still sounding like the type of man to give orders. Even his vocabulary fit it. He had already proven himself to be an incredible actor – but what kind of act was this?
It forced one to acknowledge the truth wherein one who’s every interaction, every action was some kind of act, there could simply be no non-acting state. It was impossible to tell when Ketin was not acting, because he was always acting – and therefore he was not an actor behind the many faces, but the faces alone, hollow and devoid of soul.
There was also the little matter of how the android had never actually introduced himself, yet he knew his designation. Again he found himself wondering just how much Nirix knew of his capabilities. Remembering whether or not someone knew he could read their minds and see through their eyes was quite possibly the most difficult and tedious aspect of having the blasted thing in his head.
Presently, Ketin stepped back – slowly, as to avoid rousing the trigger-happy gun-toters. Eyes locked on and through the girl.
And then, with an unsurpassed arrogance hidden beneath the dead-city-stare, Ketin Clarke spun on a heel and strode out the door, leaving Nirix and 83 to follow.
After all, what were they going to do – blast them to bits for leaving?
Kete would not halt until he was down one flight in the stairwell – there he would wait for Nirix and/or 86 to catch up if they had lagged behind for whatever reason.
And at last it was time to go – time again to leave it all behind, to forget it, to let it blend into the foggy psuedo-denial in the deepest fathoms of the mind. That’s all it seemed to be these days – more and more things to make himself forget.
It was only once the trio (Or duo, if 86 for some reason chose not to tag along) was back on the sidewalk and walking away from the dusty brick building with the clusters of antennae and dishes and arrays sprouting up from the rooftops that Ketin showed any sign of tension. It came in the form of a rather high pitched sigh, as if he had been holding his breath to anticipate a shot to the back of the neck.
Then, still walking, trying to put as much distance between them and the soldiers as possible without outright sprinting, he let the tired smile return – though there was some meekness to it. It was the sheepishness that often seemed to follow a display of authority or confidence. Was it a sign that the arrogant act was in fact just an act, and possibly a strain to maintain? Or maybe the shyness that seemed to follow was an act in itself, intended to make him seem that much more harmless?
He did not speak a word. Once they were a good five blocks from the orbital security station, Kete turned suddenly to diverge down an alley between two brick and cement buildings. He did not venture very far however – he just let himself fall back against one wall, then slide down to the asphalt ground – and then he just sat there.
Just sat there and trembled and stared blankly, wide-eyed forward. There was an intensity in the blankness – as if he were only now allowing himself stop and let out all the tension that had built up over the course of the past events.
A deep breath. And another. Gradually, the white sound of the city began to wash over him. The sound of life. He certainly did not look to be at peace, and to be sure he was far from it – but at very least now he had a moment where he could separate himself from the imminent peril and recuperate his weary mind.
He could also absently ponder why there seemed to be a feeling in the back of his head which, he had never felt before – something that was not there before, but was not malevolent – and no matter how hard he tried to put it into perspective, he could only describe it as...
b l u e.
N O T S P A C E – The Kingsbane
He was smiling again! More broadly this time, too. Good. That made it pretty clear – talking normal is bad, talking like they do is good. Got it. Now all she had to do was figure out what their sounds actually meant, and this was going to be quite the challenge considering she had nothing to work off of. Well, she could make the sounds, anyway, even if the context was alien to her. That was apparently good enough, at least for now – she’d just have to use words when it seemed like they wanted her to say something, and hope that they were the right ones.
Still following along, still sticking dreadfully near, she was just rubbernecking some arbitrary, meaningless wall fixture when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man’s goggles had changed.
Well drat. Now she wanted even more to poke at them! But still her self restraint kept the urge at bay. She could touch other things.
The man started talking then. Talking a lot, woah. Was he talking to her? She thought not, though there was no way to be sure. What was under those goggles? Oh, wait a second, that was a really cheerful smile! That was good. She couldn’t help but smile herself now, glancing about from everyday object to unimportant detail. She certainly did not appear to be listening to what the Doctor was saying.
A lot of talking, then he paused and looked toward her. It made her a little bit nervous, and she gave a sidelong glance away from him. Camera shy? Not that she could possibly have known what the red things on the goggles meant.
Oh. Oh! He was talking again, and this time to her! ...Right? Well, he was looking at her and talking, so he must be talking to her. The smile faded slightly, but due to thoughtfulness rather than a depressant of her mirroring cheery mood. But when he finally stopped talking, he looked away again.
This was some confusing stuff. Should she repeat his words back to him again? No, she got the feeling he wasn’t looking for a response. That was okay – it left her free to focus on the change of environment as they transitioned from the white-walled research department into the place where everything was steel and steel-grey. The demon’s voice was gone, that was good. Very good.
He halted.
She halted.
He made as if to throw something in a trash can.
She leaned over to see what was in the trash can.
He looked back at her, smiled again. Then he shoved that dreadful little box back into her hands, and she reflexively took it. It took half a second to register what had just happened, and the expression of dread – indeed, something approaching betrayal, fell over her like a wet sheet. Gaping at the evil box, she even made a rather comical little whimpering sound in her disbelief. He had continued walking, but it took her a moment to realize this, tear her eyes off the box and scamper right up close again.
Admittedly, part of her was downright irritated. Why had he waited this long to inform her that she had given the box to the wrong person? It was unheard of. Just the fact that she had done something incorrectly and been allowed to continue existing...
So he was going to take her to the Arch Demon – the source of the incorporeal voice that had terrorized the new place and her in particular. She was going to have to give him the box. Fine. She had this. Her curiosity had not been dampened by this tragic turn of events, even though most of her attention was now focused on preparing to face the Lord of Evil. She still rubbernecked everyone that went by – the man was saying something to most of them. Maybe she should try that?
No, not while she had the box. It was some kind of bad thing, nobody else wanted it, and most people seemed to recoil from her presence when she initially was given it, so it would be best to bear this burden alone. Once it was taken care of, then she could focus on the talking.
Double doors. A grotesque image printed on matte-black metal. The girl stopped, looked at it with wide eyes and seemed to lean back slightly – curiously, she looked more confused and revolted by it than frightened..Though she was still more than a little frightened, and it showed. A skull biting something, with something on its head. The pair stood there for a moment as she studied the image with a slowly mounting anxiety. She glanced back to the box for a moment, then to the man – who was, to her eyes, just staring at the door.
Well damn it, what was she supposed to do now?
Maybe he wanted her to open the door.
Fine, but how? These doors were different from the other ones.
After a moment, she started to move toward it, then hesitated, stopped. Again she started to reach toward it, then pulled her hand away hesitantly. She glanced between the man and the door a few times as if to wordlessly urge him to open it instead, an expression somewhere in the median between frightened, baffled and...a little irritated, actually.
He was smiling still – what in the world would he be smiling about while looking at that awful image? But wait – there was a quirk to that smile, she realized. So far, most peoples’ expressions were plenty familiar to her, so she was confident she had a grasp on the body language, and it looked a whole lot like he was finding something amusing.
Her, obviously.
As the realization of this set in, the girl gave a clearly exasperated huff, gave a determined and somewhat irritated pout. Then, as if specifically to say ’Well I’ll show you then!’ She stepped confidently forward and without the slightest regard for what evils might lie in waiting on the other side, threw open the doors!
...
Or, she was trying, anyway.
The girl had become determined to walk up to that evil thing and hand it the box, just to get back at the man for messing with her – but she couldn’t get the stupid things open. She tried pushing, pulling, lifting, yanking, prying, anything she could think of (It was awkward, still trying to hold the box under her arm while she did all this and not drop it) and her expressions grew slowly more amusing as she went along. The determination and indignation melted into outright frustration and a distinct loathing for these stupid, complicated doors. The frustration transitioned to add nervousness into the mix. Finally she was looking rather dismayed and helpless, while trying really hard to continue looking like she was irritated and determined and fearless.
And, to an extent, she still was – but the humiliation of not being able to open the door was like a miserable aftertaste to her stalwartness.
If the man did not decide to open the door himself while she was still trying worthlessly to do it herself, she would eventually give up, growling some and giving the door a loathsome kick as if to tell it that she was done trying. Then she stepped back with arms crossed – holding the box rather limply in one hand, showing that she was indeed still too riled up by his little prank to be too frightened of the coming encounter – gave another huff and glared at the door. She looked at him as if to say ’fine, you win, jerk’ and waited.
And she was still afraid – but damned if she was going to back down from that Demon yet. No, when Severin did finally open the door, she would stride right beside him (Still too closely) and look that Arch Demon right in the eye.
N O T S P A C E – Isandril
Deep within the heart of the ancient Machine City of Isandril, Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc slammed a fist once again down onto a helpless, featureless control panel which was only trying to help. His rapidly growing fury and desperation was, however, nuanced with the realization that it was actually kind of nice to get rip-roaring @#$%ed off and freak out about it. He had been controlling his emotions so carefully for so long – and now, for as long as he was in this place where the laws of time and space meant nothing, there was no such concern. No threat of winking out of existence should he become too unstable. Someone in his unique position needed to keep a hold of themselves.
But presently the man was furious. They had come all this way, and for what? To be handed a power unlike any which the Galaxy – indeed, the Universe had never known – but what use was it if he didn’t know how to use the damned thing? It didn’t have a simple terminal like the Drives on the Stella. This was First People technology. Even the basic things were beyond his comprehension – indeed, beyond the technical comprehension of anyone who wasn’t a First, due to the simple incompatibility. It was all unlogic – it could not be, but was.
Worse still, so what if Isandril was a single, super-massive Notspace Drive? What good was it? That fact in itself would not lead him back to Earth of Sol. There had to be clues. There had to be!
Surely that Mysterious Signal must have come from somewhere. Reasonably, Aelyn extrapolated that it must have originated from here – after all, how else would a meaningless, garbled code provide the information necessary to locate one of the precious few worlds that had been somehow hidden from the all-seeing eyes of the Lords for immeasurable time…
”How the @#$% was it that the Dimensional Lords couldn’t find this place before we did?” He asked suddenly. Alexa did not appear to be listening – but of course, she always was. Multitasking, hunched over a similarly featureless control panel and indulging herself in continuing the meticulous search for what A.P. was too hotheaded to find. There would be something in there, she was sure of it – some little gem.
”I was wondering how long it’d take you to ask that~” the woman teased, still not turning to look at him.
Amusingly, he found his temper subsiding somewhat. Even after all this time she was still utterly charming.
”Well?”
”Oh I’m not saying I know or anything. But I’ve been trying to figure out.”
In the pre-ancient times, the beginning-times, the Lords had burned Isandril until it was a chafed, desolate sphere of dust and sand – but then what? Had they merely left it there, under the assumption that since none of the First People were left to operate the forbidden technology that it would be naught but some useless rock? No, Aelyn-Paeryc’s experience with the Lords was limited, but having been immensely long-lived himself and of a similarly scaled epitome of power for the mortal realm, he knew how people like them tended to think. They would do nothing without a reason.
Currently, they were in Notspace – meaning that there were not present in Realspace. But where exactly in Realspace was the planet? Everybody had been so excited to have found the mythical world. They somehow managed to extract galactic coordinates from the garbled nonsense, send a probe, and determine that they had indeed found Isandril and its’ little white dwarf. Then they had simply used the Notspace Drives to slip through to their discovery.
Think, stupid. How had his people determined with such haste that the planet was the one they sought? Notspace radiation, of course – the place was radiating it like mad. He checked his BrainPal™ logs and glanced through them – it had been registering incredible levels. The kind of levels that the Stella let off when it entered or exited Notspace…
It hit him like a brick. Like a gold brick with a slice of lemon wrapped around it. The answer was obvious.
“The planet was in Notspace.” Alexa said casually, just as Aelyn-Paeryc was about to say the exact same words. There was a moment of silence, preceding a flurry of brainstorming.
” How was it that the only race able to technologically surpass the Lords was defeated by what would surely be inferior weaponry?”
”If they thought they were the only race in existence at the time, they never would have needed to develop weaponry at all – and they would have had to be a naturally cooperative, non-violent people to reach the tech levels they did. But why didn’t they just throw the planet into Notspace when the Lords’ attack first started?”
”Something may have prevented them from doing so. But it doesn’t explain how the planet then entered notspace after the attack.”
”Maybe there were a couple survivors? No, I guess that doesn’t fit. They wouldn’t have allowed it and the city’d have been under guard… Besides, the real question-“
“Is how and why the planet reappeared.”
”It reappeared at the same time that Signal showed up. It might have been-“
”Broadcast from the planet itself. It only makes sense that Drives this big and advanced-“”
”Would be capable of broadcasting a signal simultaneously throughout the universe and leave no trace behind.”
The floor trembled. Their conversation halted.
Returning his full attention to the console, Aelyn-Paeryc tried to manufacture some means of allowing their BrainPal™ signals to penetrate this strange, central chamber. It was actually entirely by chance that he managed to do so.
-Captain where the @#$% have you been?!
It was the equivalent of a furious, berating scream from his Chief Analyst that took the foreground of his attention, overlaying a terrible flurry of information which proved so overwhelming that he had to hastily block it out.
He had, of course, been fully aware of the situation on the surface – ever since he had managed to bring up those various little windows which showed him real-time footage from various arbitrary vantage points around the planet. It had not concerned him. He watched impassively as the Dendril beast rammed the walls, fired lasers – killed some of Rivierre’s security team. It was a mess up there.
For an instant, he thought he saw the faintest flicker of blue somewhere about the Dendril creature’s head.
No, probably nothing. Some byproduct of the creatures lasers probably, or maybe some meaningless anomaly on the part of the incorporeal screen.
That monster was going to cause a lot of trouble in the long run, he knew. Now that the planet was in his possession, he was quite sure that nobody was going to take it – but he couldn’t have that thing scurrying around killing people. That would slow progress considerably.
He didn’t really need anyone on the surface, though – he needed someone down here, rooting through the First People’s equivalent of computer databanks – and he had a serious notion that anyone who wasn’t like himself and Alexa would probably cease to exist if they entered this chamber physically.
So they were stuck here. Fine. There was no way for the Dendril to reach them, so fine.
-Immediate evacuation of the planet. Isha, get another dropship down there and bring everyone home. Alexa and I are staying here for the time being.
The BrainPal™ transmissions were awfully ‘quiet’ now that he was muffling most of it out for the sake of his focus. There was a pause. He had expected a response from Lastrow. It came delayed, and with it an icy claw gripped Aelyn-Paeryc’s stomach.
-Captain. The Dendril ships are moving.
Beneath the surface of Planet Gyros
Shortly following the appearance of Stella Viventium
in orbit around Planet Earth IV...
A voice deep and rich, almost sultry in warmth, yet ragged and hollow like ancient, flayed silk.
"My L̴a͝d̛y..."
"Wh͡at brings you to me so̶ ͜s͘o̶on?"
"P̢l͡e͞as̶e My Lady, get not the wrong impression. I can think of no better visitor."
"I see.Th̷e̷y ͘ha̸v͏e r͝et͠uŗne͡d͡ t̷̶̶h͠en?"
"The brother of P̢͘á̸͞ȩry͟͢c̛ ̷̕͘P̨e̶̛t͘͢͡r̛҉ov͞a͞l͢y͘͠c͜? Surely you jest..."
"It must be quite a dire situation My Lady, for my f͢r͞e̴ed̷o̢ḿ to be gra͢n̴t́ed once more."
"But of course, My Lady, only the sh́o͏rtest ͢lȩa͏sh."
"A s̵ev̕erè ͜ḑán͞ge̷r ̷i͟ndee͝d̀..͏. I mean not to doubt your judgement but...You know I am... u̳͉̫͇nw̢̳̦ę͉̼̘l̻l.̯̟.."
"It could be...dang̶ero͏u͠s."
"It could be...d̀i̧sàstrou͞s͢."
"Once I have left this place...You know there will be only so much you can do."
"Well, I certainly can't deny a chance given by My Lad͡y͞ ̵to again roam the spaceways a̸nd b̶r̢i̶ng d͠o͞wn ̀h͇̀e̱͍̥̞̮͘ͅi͉͇͍̬͍ͅͅn͎̯̗͠o̴͓̠̩͎̲u͙̺̟̙̼͇s̕ ̼͈̬̕ͅḑ͈͈̙͔is̠̟̙̀a̪͓͉̲̰̠s̷͚̯͇̬̤͕̭t̠̳e̜̫̳̜̯̕r upon the hap̶leśs e͞ńe͏m̢i͟es o҉f the̛ La҉d̢y̶ ̀Cơds̸w҉ort͟h."
"̧Yes, My La͜d͜y҉.̸.͝."
"͢A͜s y̡ou ́w̶ish̡,͡ My͡ ͝L̛a̵d̶y҉..̷."͏
"P͜o̶r ͘t̶i͜ ͝y͞o ҉c̡am̢b͡ia̸r͝ e͝l rum̡b̕o de ͝l̸as̡ ͏e͠str̢eĺl̸a͟s͝ ͟mi͡smas,̡ ͡M̡̫̺i̥̼͞ ̻̰̘̟͓͇S̻̹̪̯̪é̩̟̩̯͎̠ͅñ͕́o̠r͍͓͉̭̲͘a͏ ̜͙D̖͞u̲̭l̶͓̫̠̺̩͓c͓̘͎i͠n͡ea̠̣̰.̷̗̻̘͇͎.̻̖̞͕̳͚̖͢.͙̺̭̗͍̫̕"̪͓͇͉͓̪
N O T S P A C E
He stood aboard the long derelict Dendril battleship, a tall and wide-shouldered, grey-suited body hunched heavily over a control panel which was never designed for human hands - nor hands that even resembled those of a human. The lights flickered and sparked only dimly and intermittently, though the Dendril themselves had no exceptional need for it. Creatures of blackness and eternal night, devourers of all what stood before them - he had rarely felt so very at home, regardless of whether or not the metallic, insectoid beings appreciated, or merely tolerated the madman's presence there. He was alone within the chamber, and yet no light was needed, for the ethereal non-glow of Notspace permeated this chamber, where conventional means of illumination served for the remainder of the ships as it did in any enclosed environment.
This ancient vessel needed no input from his hands, which seemed to flicker and shift between translucent half-existence and opalescent solidity. His entire body seemed in constant transition between existence and nothingness. He was here, he was a million places at once, his mind was scattered across eons and yet condensed here. He was The Broken Man, He Who Transitioned, The Transcended One - the Dimensional Shadow of Madness of whom even many of the most powerful Lords held a mote of fear in the back of their expansive minds. Far from overwhelming power and yet dwelling within the emptiness of his face was that which no living being of any realm could hope to comprehend - the cosmic horror of the thoroughly unknowable - and yet here he was, semi-existent, unreality incarnate, let loose upon the mortal realm once more.
His voice carried itself where he wished, within the sporadic and ever-changing limits of his consciousness which flitted about him. It was a faint whisper to some, a bellowing warcry to others.
You do me well, mi camaradas." He said, that deep and resonant voice beautiful in the chaos behind it, the mystifying impossibility of the failed melding of forbidden technology with the sentient mind. He was confident, he was serene. Tones of words carried themselves to the other ships, to those which dragged his own vessel, trailing smoke, limp and yet armed with inconceivable firepower, armored to unreasonability, a death machine in tow by interstellar, Gatling-gunned-tugboats.
One hand lifted from the old console, as lips formed into a wide and toothy grin, fingers clenching suddenly into a hard fist.
"We do today t͞͞h̷e̡ i̧͟͡m̧͡p̡̛͞o̷̕̕s͢si͘͟͡bl̡͠͠e̢̡!̵͝" He bellowed, "We break the t̴y̸ra͟nt r̡u̴le͢ of their unreality, we take on this day̧ ̶w͜hat is r̀igh̸t̨fu̶l̵l̶y ̢o͏u͠ŗs!" And the words resonated through the companion vessels.
"W̸e̕ ͜m̧o̴ve i͢n ̛N͠o̢t͝spac̨e,̢ m͝i h́e̵r̢m̧aǹos͢ ͠d́im̡ens̢i̢oǹale͏s̀!̡ We break their laws for to circumvent our own. Soon mi camaradas we will storm the streets of Isandril and feast upon the arrogant mortals who therefore reside and nothing - n̶͈o̵͍̻͇t͙̗̪̺̘ͅh͙̰̜̫͔́į͍͙n̳̖g͍̙̟̠̞̣ ̖̖̫c̬̲͍̬̱̳͡a̵̖̹̠̞͇̠̥n͔͚͝ ̲͇̫̰s̡t̴̻̟̳o҉͎̟̥̺p̞̗͙͡ ̠̱̘͙̮͓́ṳ̭̩͞s̠̳̰̫͎̬͉ ̶̤͕̳̠͚ņ̣͇͉̤͍͎̹ǫw̬͈͔̪͙͜!̰̳̱"
Mad, baying laughter, beyond menacing in the insanity hinted therein, the utter madness behind The Faceless Man.
In the blackness of Notspace, the Dendril vessels moved. Slowly, slowly, sluggishly, but they moved - they achieved the impossible, the broke laws not of physics, nor of space or time, but of existence, of reality and unreality, laws fundamental to the potential of everything knowable and otherwise. The creatures within the ships cranked away, adjusting their weapons slowly but surely, preparing to aim them and to strike true at the heart of their enemy, to shatter the conventions and bring destruction down upon those who sought to stand in the path of their righteous leader and their ravenous hunger.
The vessels were moving, and closing in upon their destination - The great Stella Viventium command module and the ancient, mythical world of lost Isandril. It was so close he could taste it - it would not be long now before the blood of the infernal Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc stained his fingers, before the power of the impeccable First People was at last where it belonged - in the hands of His Lady Erica Codsworth.
On the surface of the world, where the ghosts of those so long deceased resonated their unchanging nonexistence, where a hulking mechanical beast roared and battered at the unyielding walls of The Eternal Machine-City, a voice whispered of which the ancient Dendril alone would hear. Even to Dendril ears the voice was unreal, insinuating the telltale unreality and instability which made the man who was The Shadow Over Himself enemy of friend and foe alike.
“Would you care for some assistance, b̨̨ i̵ g͜͟ ̧b r̴̸ ó͜ t͘ h̵̕ e͡ r̵̀ ~?”
The dendril ships up in space slowly approach the other vessels thanks to there mad commander. There guns where position to fire at both the Stella command module and Kingsbane(also the other 7 ships if there still there) as well as the guns on the battleship are also ready and primed to fire...all they need his is order to do so, all tolerating the mad man since he knows there god and respect for his various contributions.
On the surface on Isandril, the scorpion Dendril stopped what it was doing and dug itself into the sand as it heard the voice from the Mad man. It was voice it hadn't heard for a long long time. The scorpion began to laugh evilly and says "YES! I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOUR ASSISTANCE!" as it digs it's self into the sand more waiting for further instructions.
On the surface on Isandril, the scorpion Dendril stopped what it was doing and dug itself into the sand as it heard the voice from the Mad man. It was voice it hadn't heard for a long long time. The scorpion began to laugh evilly and says "YES! I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOUR ASSISTANCE!" as it digs it's self into the sand more waiting for further instructions.
Unspecified Interstellar Route
Present
Rumors might be heard in some star systems, of a warship, over a kilometer long, which shows up at random. Occasionally, it may contact small operators, trading raw materials for more exotic items or information, other times, it merely appears and leaves. Regardless, only one crewmember aboard the ship could have been identified, suggesting a high degree of automation.
Laurentian Union Ship "Independence" drops out of the quantum levels of space through which her hyperdrive allows her to move. She checks her bearings, and finds a body of note in this system. Her purchased navigational data lists the planet as "Maldoon", but provides no data on who or what may reside there. Maybe the other planets have some importance to other beings (perhaps even have names), but Maldoon jumps out at her due both to what data she does have, and how it relates to what she doesn't. Supposedly (and scans seem to support this), the planet has an atmosphere capable of supporting Earth-like life. Rare, in her experience, unless terraformed. The lack of any signals from the planet suggests- oh wait, that's a signal. Still, no large cities, no artificial satellites, and this is literally just one signal. Actually, it looks kind of familiar... Independence's drives flare as she moves to approach the planet and enter orbit, while she thinks about where she's seen something like this. Speaking of the planet, clearly it's not unknown- she realizes where she's seen signals like this one, and mentally kicks herself for not spotting it sooner. This is a distress signal.
Boosting the resolution of her sensors, she hunts for the source. Probably a lifeboat, probably on the surface... Curiosity takes hold, and she starts getting a dropship prepped for landing. The planet seems to have a thick, hazy atmosphere, heavy with clouds... Potential heavy rainfall. It occurs to Independence that humans might find this place to be fairly dreary or depressing, but to her, this place is fascinating. She's only ever been to two planet surfaces that supported life, and those were heavily "civilized", so this is entirely new to her. A nagging doubt in the back of her mind suggests that this type of curiosity is entirely inappropriate for a warship of her type, but she pushes it away, locking down those processes. A brace of drones are deployed to locate the source of the signal.
In the darkness of Independence's bridge, her physical avatar opens its eyes and disconnects from her seat. As lights come on along her route, Independence makes her way from the bridge to the ventral hangar, and her sensors work on triangulating the location of the distress signal. By the time she boards the dropship, she has a location. She escalates her Ragnarok Protocol, just in case, and then deploys the smaller craft, descending towards the planet surface. Shaped like a brick with stubby, deployable wings, and large enough for fifty troopers and their gear in its standard configuration, the ship isn't exactly subtle as it plummets through the planet's atmosphere.
Before long, the dropship arrives at the specified coordinates, and finds... a lake. With the ship hovering in position, Independence lowers the rear door and leans out, peering around. This... should have been expected, but Search-and-Rescue operations aren't exactly her forte, here. She disappears back into the dropship and guides it to a landing near the edge of the lake, before re-emerging, clad in a rain poncho, with its hood flipped up over her head. The hood is slightly deformed, due to not being constructed with her headset in mind, but it serves its purpose. The anthropomorphic snow leopard-shaped gynoid hesitates at the edge of the cargo ramp, before gingerly setting foot on the alien soil with a soft splorch. That's... less than pleasant, but it doesn't seem to be affecting her systems particularly, so she takes a few more steps towards the edge of the strange, purple-tinted lake as she commands the dropship to keep its sensors working, and she wishes she had more comprehensive sensors aboard her avatar.
Present
Rumors might be heard in some star systems, of a warship, over a kilometer long, which shows up at random. Occasionally, it may contact small operators, trading raw materials for more exotic items or information, other times, it merely appears and leaves. Regardless, only one crewmember aboard the ship could have been identified, suggesting a high degree of automation.
Laurentian Union Ship "Independence" drops out of the quantum levels of space through which her hyperdrive allows her to move. She checks her bearings, and finds a body of note in this system. Her purchased navigational data lists the planet as "Maldoon", but provides no data on who or what may reside there. Maybe the other planets have some importance to other beings (perhaps even have names), but Maldoon jumps out at her due both to what data she does have, and how it relates to what she doesn't. Supposedly (and scans seem to support this), the planet has an atmosphere capable of supporting Earth-like life. Rare, in her experience, unless terraformed. The lack of any signals from the planet suggests- oh wait, that's a signal. Still, no large cities, no artificial satellites, and this is literally just one signal. Actually, it looks kind of familiar... Independence's drives flare as she moves to approach the planet and enter orbit, while she thinks about where she's seen something like this. Speaking of the planet, clearly it's not unknown- she realizes where she's seen signals like this one, and mentally kicks herself for not spotting it sooner. This is a distress signal.
Boosting the resolution of her sensors, she hunts for the source. Probably a lifeboat, probably on the surface... Curiosity takes hold, and she starts getting a dropship prepped for landing. The planet seems to have a thick, hazy atmosphere, heavy with clouds... Potential heavy rainfall. It occurs to Independence that humans might find this place to be fairly dreary or depressing, but to her, this place is fascinating. She's only ever been to two planet surfaces that supported life, and those were heavily "civilized", so this is entirely new to her. A nagging doubt in the back of her mind suggests that this type of curiosity is entirely inappropriate for a warship of her type, but she pushes it away, locking down those processes. A brace of drones are deployed to locate the source of the signal.
In the darkness of Independence's bridge, her physical avatar opens its eyes and disconnects from her seat. As lights come on along her route, Independence makes her way from the bridge to the ventral hangar, and her sensors work on triangulating the location of the distress signal. By the time she boards the dropship, she has a location. She escalates her Ragnarok Protocol, just in case, and then deploys the smaller craft, descending towards the planet surface. Shaped like a brick with stubby, deployable wings, and large enough for fifty troopers and their gear in its standard configuration, the ship isn't exactly subtle as it plummets through the planet's atmosphere.
Before long, the dropship arrives at the specified coordinates, and finds... a lake. With the ship hovering in position, Independence lowers the rear door and leans out, peering around. This... should have been expected, but Search-and-Rescue operations aren't exactly her forte, here. She disappears back into the dropship and guides it to a landing near the edge of the lake, before re-emerging, clad in a rain poncho, with its hood flipped up over her head. The hood is slightly deformed, due to not being constructed with her headset in mind, but it serves its purpose. The anthropomorphic snow leopard-shaped gynoid hesitates at the edge of the cargo ramp, before gingerly setting foot on the alien soil with a soft splorch. That's... less than pleasant, but it doesn't seem to be affecting her systems particularly, so she takes a few more steps towards the edge of the strange, purple-tinted lake as she commands the dropship to keep its sensors working, and she wishes she had more comprehensive sensors aboard her avatar.
The colonel herself was perplexed by the mysterious girl's disappearance. She went through her scans and found nothing, but instead more detail on the approaching soldiers. "A phantom?.." she says to herself and after seeing what the soldiers where she let out a surprising gasp. "There towing....canons....WE NEED TO GET OUT NOW!!" she yells as she rushes towards the door and looks both ways, but within the darkness she can hear the impending marching of soldiers. "Dammit why are they here in Ardella? Was the base compromise?" she was asking herself all these questions as she pulls out a pistol of her own as she waits for the rest to rush out and be shown towards the exit, prepared to give covering fire if need be. She tosses Kallenger another one of her own painkillers and says "We need everyone on there feet and moving or we gonna slaughtered by volley fire and energy canon shot" as she looks at them all waiting for them to move. "Lord Ova's troops are ones not to be trifled with" she adds as her voice was strain with ergencey.
Unknown location
White nothing but blurry white. Kampfer groggily woke up into a white room, was it white room? Or was it something more as he looks down and realizes that he didn't have a shirt on and his arms both are normal looking human hands his metal claw gone!. His eyes went wide as he saw that, but instantly cringed seeing that the complete white room, land, or area was annoying and giving him a headache. "Vhere am I? Jeez how did I get here?" he asks himself as he looks down at himself only wearing black pants as he tries to get his bearings.
A few hours ago
The Overlord finally arrived into Telray system and was making its approach towards the planet of Gryo, the Dendril homeworld. This entire system was covered in space junk. As Kampfer's personal ship was making its approach to the planet, the space junk harmless bounced off the hull of the ship, but the crew where a bit jumpy and nervous as they fly towards a giant hornets of a planet. Kampfer soon woke from his nap and was at the bridge in his usual black attire. He looks at the planet Gyro, a deep desolate red planet with bangs of black going across it with little lights on it signalling massive cities, but instead sporadic it was continuous throughout the planet as if the entire planet was a cosmopolitan planet. The navigator looked at Kampfer and gave him a nod letting kampfer now we have arrived. Kampfer looked calmly at him and says "I'll take off immediately, hold tight for a few hours, you won't be harmed here" as he gives a nod and heads towards ship's hanger bay to get into his personal craft.
Once inside he looks around as he remembers not to along ago the passengers that he had. He sits on the pilots seat and he takes off from the hanger and heads towards the planet surface. He kept his cool even though is heart was racing. As the craft breaks the atmosphere he was greeted to a hellish landscape. A land of high jagged industrial buildings with numerous columns puffing toxic smoke into the red atmosphere. From random jagged towers to large factories, this place was not a place friendly to humans or any other alien species, the place itself just looked like the post apocalypse has happen mixed with British industrial revolution. As the Kamfper's craft flew past the various towers and columns, his destination came into view. A large metal Pyramid in the enter of this continuous city with four giant fire lighten lord vessels The pryramid is so large his personal craft was dwarfed by its size. He made his approach towards a designated landing area and once landed and exited his ship, he was greeted by two Dendril assualters, one of the more common foot soldiers among the Dednrils, with there assualt rifles with there mini chainsaws underneath the barrel of there guns, there beaty orange eyes with there sharp imposing teeth as a little bit of drool comes out. There junker like bodies all hunched back as they gestured Kampfer to follow and in which Kamfper did without a word said.
The two guard escorts spoke to each other in there own language as they walk through this...temple with its high ceilings and red drapes and rugs. Soon the gaurds seprate from the Kampfer as the Lord of Tech approaches a temple steps that goes towards Erica's throne. With every step being heavy, knowing what was wating at the top and once there he see's Lord Erica in her full glory with armor and swords and her cold look at Kamfper.
Kampfer gives a nervous smile and says "So...I arrived" Erica being unamused said "You're a few hundred years late...let me guess you body is in the final stages?" Kampfer nodded and says "I believe so" as he coughs up blood. Erica approaches him and says "Please don't get blood on the floor, its been recently waxed...are you ready?" Kampfer nods as he takes a deep breath and exhales and says "Lets get this over with" Erica grined and said "Its best if you relax" and before Kampfer can reply, Erica shoves her chainsaw like sword into his gut. Kampfer made grunted sound as he was stabbed by her and with a lot of force, he was dropped to the floor by her shoving sword deeper into him. She then removed it and sheath it. Kampfer's vision became blurry as his claw went over the wound and saw it covered in blood...not of others blood, but his own and soon he lost consciousness...
Now
Erica was siting on white rectangle playing Dolly Gray on an old Gamaphone as she was reading All quiet on the Western Front in which caught his attention, as she wore just her skin tight black suit that she would usually wear underneath her armor, in which her suit gave little to the imagination. Kampfer got up and wobbled a little bit, he could tell he was out for a few hours. Erica looks up from her read and says "Oh you finally awake? How you are feeling?" as she crosses her legs not even getting up to help him stand. "I feel like crap with all zis vite" he says as he looks at her with squint eyes. Erica chuckled said "Well this is the realm of Time and Space, not your Tron based realm of the Tech realm" Kampfer grumbled and says "At least you can spice ze place up vith a few colors" Eric smiled as she got up and placed her hands on his shoulder and brought him close and says "But this is my safe space and free from trigger warnings and people who want to hurt my feelings" in a more or less a sarcastic tone.
Kampfer laughed and says "For cold woman you have ze jokes" Erica slaughes with him and escorts him back to where he lay and sat down with him. "So..Doc vhat did you do vith me?" he says with a smile on his face but looks down. Erica cleared her throat as she explained "Kampfer as you can tell I was able transfer your old body in which the insides where rotten and decaying into a new body fulled with small organisms called Dendrilisms, the very start of every Dendril infection. With those little organisms, you can be able to retain a more human presence, thats why you don't have your visible claw, but you can make it appear though" and after she explains it, Kampfer looks at his hands and like someone flipped a switch his arms mutated into the claw he was used too, but instead of one it was both hands that were now dendril claws, but his right claw has crystals encrusted upon them and before he asks Erica answers for him "That is your soul rejecting the little Dendrilisms, its nothing major, but it does make than much stronger than your left, increased strength and power output. Don't ask me how because I'm still trying to figure them out really...anyway this is your new body as I got rid of your old body...basically besides what I explained about your arms, your back to normal"
Kampfer remained quite as flexed his claws and then reverted them back to normal human hands and flexed them. "Zank you, Erica" he says still looking down. Erica gave a small smile and puts her hand on his back and rubs his back and says "No problem, Frankenstein" Kampfer giggled and shock his head. "Well I don't want to be bearer of bad news, but...Ova is hear in this realm and..." "...She's attacking my troops" Kampfer interrupted still looking down. "Also from her, she gave us info that Ketin...uses Not Space tech" Erica adds as she continues to rub the white hair docs back. Kampfer remained quiet and then got up. "Vell I guess I should be going" he states as he looks at her. Erica gave her soft smile once more and ogt up and says "I think I'll be going as well...its gets boring hanging out at Gryo...I guess I'll take a mini vacation"
Soon they went through a portal and arrived back into Gryo, Kampfer and Erica got dressed respectively and Kampfer left first. He soon arrived onto his ship with arms back to being human and with a smile on his face seeing the shocked faces of his crew he says "Lets go home" and soon the Overlord warped out.
Unknown location
White nothing but blurry white. Kampfer groggily woke up into a white room, was it white room? Or was it something more as he looks down and realizes that he didn't have a shirt on and his arms both are normal looking human hands his metal claw gone!. His eyes went wide as he saw that, but instantly cringed seeing that the complete white room, land, or area was annoying and giving him a headache. "Vhere am I? Jeez how did I get here?" he asks himself as he looks down at himself only wearing black pants as he tries to get his bearings.
A few hours ago
The Overlord finally arrived into Telray system and was making its approach towards the planet of Gryo, the Dendril homeworld. This entire system was covered in space junk. As Kampfer's personal ship was making its approach to the planet, the space junk harmless bounced off the hull of the ship, but the crew where a bit jumpy and nervous as they fly towards a giant hornets of a planet. Kampfer soon woke from his nap and was at the bridge in his usual black attire. He looks at the planet Gyro, a deep desolate red planet with bangs of black going across it with little lights on it signalling massive cities, but instead sporadic it was continuous throughout the planet as if the entire planet was a cosmopolitan planet. The navigator looked at Kampfer and gave him a nod letting kampfer now we have arrived. Kampfer looked calmly at him and says "I'll take off immediately, hold tight for a few hours, you won't be harmed here" as he gives a nod and heads towards ship's hanger bay to get into his personal craft.
Once inside he looks around as he remembers not to along ago the passengers that he had. He sits on the pilots seat and he takes off from the hanger and heads towards the planet surface. He kept his cool even though is heart was racing. As the craft breaks the atmosphere he was greeted to a hellish landscape. A land of high jagged industrial buildings with numerous columns puffing toxic smoke into the red atmosphere. From random jagged towers to large factories, this place was not a place friendly to humans or any other alien species, the place itself just looked like the post apocalypse has happen mixed with British industrial revolution. As the Kamfper's craft flew past the various towers and columns, his destination came into view. A large metal Pyramid in the enter of this continuous city with four giant fire lighten lord vessels The pryramid is so large his personal craft was dwarfed by its size. He made his approach towards a designated landing area and once landed and exited his ship, he was greeted by two Dendril assualters, one of the more common foot soldiers among the Dednrils, with there assualt rifles with there mini chainsaws underneath the barrel of there guns, there beaty orange eyes with there sharp imposing teeth as a little bit of drool comes out. There junker like bodies all hunched back as they gestured Kampfer to follow and in which Kamfper did without a word said.
The two guard escorts spoke to each other in there own language as they walk through this...temple with its high ceilings and red drapes and rugs. Soon the gaurds seprate from the Kampfer as the Lord of Tech approaches a temple steps that goes towards Erica's throne. With every step being heavy, knowing what was wating at the top and once there he see's Lord Erica in her full glory with armor and swords and her cold look at Kamfper.
Kampfer gives a nervous smile and says "So...I arrived" Erica being unamused said "You're a few hundred years late...let me guess you body is in the final stages?" Kampfer nodded and says "I believe so" as he coughs up blood. Erica approaches him and says "Please don't get blood on the floor, its been recently waxed...are you ready?" Kampfer nods as he takes a deep breath and exhales and says "Lets get this over with" Erica grined and said "Its best if you relax" and before Kampfer can reply, Erica shoves her chainsaw like sword into his gut. Kampfer made grunted sound as he was stabbed by her and with a lot of force, he was dropped to the floor by her shoving sword deeper into him. She then removed it and sheath it. Kampfer's vision became blurry as his claw went over the wound and saw it covered in blood...not of others blood, but his own and soon he lost consciousness...
Now
Erica was siting on white rectangle playing Dolly Gray on an old Gamaphone as she was reading All quiet on the Western Front in which caught his attention, as she wore just her skin tight black suit that she would usually wear underneath her armor, in which her suit gave little to the imagination. Kampfer got up and wobbled a little bit, he could tell he was out for a few hours. Erica looks up from her read and says "Oh you finally awake? How you are feeling?" as she crosses her legs not even getting up to help him stand. "I feel like crap with all zis vite" he says as he looks at her with squint eyes. Erica chuckled said "Well this is the realm of Time and Space, not your Tron based realm of the Tech realm" Kampfer grumbled and says "At least you can spice ze place up vith a few colors" Eric smiled as she got up and placed her hands on his shoulder and brought him close and says "But this is my safe space and free from trigger warnings and people who want to hurt my feelings" in a more or less a sarcastic tone.
Kampfer laughed and says "For cold woman you have ze jokes" Erica slaughes with him and escorts him back to where he lay and sat down with him. "So..Doc vhat did you do vith me?" he says with a smile on his face but looks down. Erica cleared her throat as she explained "Kampfer as you can tell I was able transfer your old body in which the insides where rotten and decaying into a new body fulled with small organisms called Dendrilisms, the very start of every Dendril infection. With those little organisms, you can be able to retain a more human presence, thats why you don't have your visible claw, but you can make it appear though" and after she explains it, Kampfer looks at his hands and like someone flipped a switch his arms mutated into the claw he was used too, but instead of one it was both hands that were now dendril claws, but his right claw has crystals encrusted upon them and before he asks Erica answers for him "That is your soul rejecting the little Dendrilisms, its nothing major, but it does make than much stronger than your left, increased strength and power output. Don't ask me how because I'm still trying to figure them out really...anyway this is your new body as I got rid of your old body...basically besides what I explained about your arms, your back to normal"
Kampfer remained quite as flexed his claws and then reverted them back to normal human hands and flexed them. "Zank you, Erica" he says still looking down. Erica gave a small smile and puts her hand on his back and rubs his back and says "No problem, Frankenstein" Kampfer giggled and shock his head. "Well I don't want to be bearer of bad news, but...Ova is hear in this realm and..." "...She's attacking my troops" Kampfer interrupted still looking down. "Also from her, she gave us info that Ketin...uses Not Space tech" Erica adds as she continues to rub the white hair docs back. Kampfer remained quiet and then got up. "Vell I guess I should be going" he states as he looks at her. Erica gave her soft smile once more and ogt up and says "I think I'll be going as well...its gets boring hanging out at Gryo...I guess I'll take a mini vacation"
Soon they went through a portal and arrived back into Gryo, Kampfer and Erica got dressed respectively and Kampfer left first. He soon arrived onto his ship with arms back to being human and with a smile on his face seeing the shocked faces of his crew he says "Lets go home" and soon the Overlord warped out.
(Addition to part 1 of my previous post)
By the time Independence arrived, some two weeks would have passed since the Mysterious Signal sent the Galaxy into chaos. The unlucky mercenaries would have very few options available to them.
It seemed to be nothing but deep hued marsh and swamp, thick brush and gossamer fines that tangled like spiderwebs. There were things in the wilderness there, always seeming to be out of sight.
But they were malevolent things. Things that stalked and watched and did not want to be seen. Things that kept so well hidden that one might doubt there was anything there at all, if gut instinct wasn't such a precision-honed tool.
There were smaller creatures too, good enough to hunt and eat. Ugly, matted things that scurried on five legs, a heinous bird-thing that seemed to have trouble keeping its' balance and was utterly hopeless at escaping a hunter.
For shelter, there would prove only a single option - as luck would have it, the mercenaries stumbled upon the only sign of civilization, for many miles, at least. Certainly nothing else within walking distance.
It was a small hamlet, an early 18th century townstead built up of sparsely placed townhouses and lined with cobbled roads. It was quite abandoned, and clearly it had been so for a very long time. There had once been more buildings, it seemed - but most were reduced to mere foundations. Those that stood were hollow and it seemed a good kick might send them collapsing. The only structure worth utilizing as shelter would be the fairly large, stone chapel in the center of the town. It was decayed and crumbled - all of the stained-glass had been long since shattered and blown away - a few rotten pews lay at strewn angles, and the podium seemed to resonate the loneliness of this terrible place. Terrible, but safe enough - and there was an old water pump just outside that incredibly enough still produced fresh, drinkable - if unpleasantly metallic - water. The moldy pews would prove a challenge to burn, but the pair would be able to keep a fire going for the most part, if they so chose.
And all the while, rain battered down on the steepled roof, and terrible things lurked just beyond the reach of sight...
♫
By the time Independence arrived, some two weeks would have passed since the Mysterious Signal sent the Galaxy into chaos. The unlucky mercenaries would have very few options available to them.
It seemed to be nothing but deep hued marsh and swamp, thick brush and gossamer fines that tangled like spiderwebs. There were things in the wilderness there, always seeming to be out of sight.
But they were malevolent things. Things that stalked and watched and did not want to be seen. Things that kept so well hidden that one might doubt there was anything there at all, if gut instinct wasn't such a precision-honed tool.
There were smaller creatures too, good enough to hunt and eat. Ugly, matted things that scurried on five legs, a heinous bird-thing that seemed to have trouble keeping its' balance and was utterly hopeless at escaping a hunter.
For shelter, there would prove only a single option - as luck would have it, the mercenaries stumbled upon the only sign of civilization, for many miles, at least. Certainly nothing else within walking distance.
It was a small hamlet, an early 18th century townstead built up of sparsely placed townhouses and lined with cobbled roads. It was quite abandoned, and clearly it had been so for a very long time. There had once been more buildings, it seemed - but most were reduced to mere foundations. Those that stood were hollow and it seemed a good kick might send them collapsing. The only structure worth utilizing as shelter would be the fairly large, stone chapel in the center of the town. It was decayed and crumbled - all of the stained-glass had been long since shattered and blown away - a few rotten pews lay at strewn angles, and the podium seemed to resonate the loneliness of this terrible place. Terrible, but safe enough - and there was an old water pump just outside that incredibly enough still produced fresh, drinkable - if unpleasantly metallic - water. The moldy pews would prove a challenge to burn, but the pair would be able to keep a fire going for the most part, if they so chose.
And all the while, rain battered down on the steepled roof, and terrible things lurked just beyond the reach of sight...
The limbs that had been taken by the soldiers suddenly flew out of their hands, and the robot reassembled. One of the soldiers was dragged by a stray leg.
"Sorry, sorry! That was unintentional!"
Shaking off the man, he broke out in a stride behind Ketin and the woman.
"How'd you know my name? Wait..."
GA-83 bumped his chest where a normal human's heart would be. On it the words "GA-83" were inscribed above an alien symbol. Both decorations were white.
"Almost forgot about this! Wahaha! Anyways, what's your name? Are we going to be friends? What's her name? What are those things sticking out of your head? Where are we going? More importantly, why am I following you?"
He had this goofy smile plastered on his face, completely unaware of the inner turmoil that Ketin was going through. Always the curious chatterbox, his thirst for learning was insatiable. However, his smile faltered slightly when Ketin collapsed against the wall. His green lights flickered on and off, struggling to regulate the magnetic flow between his parts. His arms and legs drooped slightly, and the movements were getting a bit sluggish. It seemed that he would need to recharge back at his ship soon. Nervous and completely out of the loop as to what was going on as well as a bit desperate to return back to his ship, GA-83 fiddled with his hands and tried to come up with something to cheer up Ketin, the fingers clanking against each other with every contact he made.
"...Hey, was it something I said? I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings...Really, I didn't mean it! Tell you what...If I showed you my ship, would it make you feel any better? Kids usually love it when I do that. Then again...You look more like a big boy than anything else so you might be into wooing the opposite gender more at your age?"
"Sorry, sorry! That was unintentional!"
Shaking off the man, he broke out in a stride behind Ketin and the woman.
"How'd you know my name? Wait..."
GA-83 bumped his chest where a normal human's heart would be. On it the words "GA-83" were inscribed above an alien symbol. Both decorations were white.
"Almost forgot about this! Wahaha! Anyways, what's your name? Are we going to be friends? What's her name? What are those things sticking out of your head? Where are we going? More importantly, why am I following you?"
He had this goofy smile plastered on his face, completely unaware of the inner turmoil that Ketin was going through. Always the curious chatterbox, his thirst for learning was insatiable. However, his smile faltered slightly when Ketin collapsed against the wall. His green lights flickered on and off, struggling to regulate the magnetic flow between his parts. His arms and legs drooped slightly, and the movements were getting a bit sluggish. It seemed that he would need to recharge back at his ship soon. Nervous and completely out of the loop as to what was going on as well as a bit desperate to return back to his ship, GA-83 fiddled with his hands and tried to come up with something to cheer up Ketin, the fingers clanking against each other with every contact he made.
"...Hey, was it something I said? I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings...Really, I didn't mean it! Tell you what...If I showed you my ship, would it make you feel any better? Kids usually love it when I do that. Then again...You look more like a big boy than anything else so you might be into wooing the opposite gender more at your age?"
Maldoon
Independence perks, glancing around as her dropship reports numerous contacts. None seem particularly hostile, but the threats are there. She decides these creatures must be wildlife, and turns back to her craft as she dispatches several mining drones from the ventral hangar to recover the pod. While they're on the way, however, she boards the dropship and takes off again. She quickly realizes that she doesn't actually have the appropriate software for locating survivors who aren't equipped with a Laurentian lifeboat, and the supplies which would have been included in one. She does, however, have a couple of programs normally used for locating hidden forces for orbital bombardment. With some tweaking, these programs should be easily repurposed...
There. And there. And... there. And... okay, she needs to restrict her search parameters. There seem to be old ruins on this planet, and those might provide shelter, but she can't go flying around the entire planet in search of one lifeboat's-worth of people. She restricts her search to the immediate area surrounding the lake, then scans outward from there, and adds a couple of tweaks to the software she's cobbled together. There, that's better. A set of ruins, not too far from here, complete with a faint, but definite heat signature that doesn't fit with the rest of the area. If that isn't the survivors, she's curious enough to make it a stop, anyway. Besides, she thinks, as the dropship's rear door lifts closed before takeoff, there was no sign of a ship, so they must have been here a while. If they've survived this long, another few hours won't kill them. Probably.
The dropship lifts off, and comes about to a low-altitude course en route to the ruins, as mining drones descend from orbit to recover the source of the distress signal. As she nears the target, Independence retrives a sidearm and holster from the dropship's supply locker. Armed against potentially-dangerous wildlife, she opens the loading door of her craft and leans out to peer down at the land below. The craft slows as it nears the ruined hamlet, and begins to circle, sensors searching for signs of life and relaying the information back to Independence.
Independence perks, glancing around as her dropship reports numerous contacts. None seem particularly hostile, but the threats are there. She decides these creatures must be wildlife, and turns back to her craft as she dispatches several mining drones from the ventral hangar to recover the pod. While they're on the way, however, she boards the dropship and takes off again. She quickly realizes that she doesn't actually have the appropriate software for locating survivors who aren't equipped with a Laurentian lifeboat, and the supplies which would have been included in one. She does, however, have a couple of programs normally used for locating hidden forces for orbital bombardment. With some tweaking, these programs should be easily repurposed...
There. And there. And... there. And... okay, she needs to restrict her search parameters. There seem to be old ruins on this planet, and those might provide shelter, but she can't go flying around the entire planet in search of one lifeboat's-worth of people. She restricts her search to the immediate area surrounding the lake, then scans outward from there, and adds a couple of tweaks to the software she's cobbled together. There, that's better. A set of ruins, not too far from here, complete with a faint, but definite heat signature that doesn't fit with the rest of the area. If that isn't the survivors, she's curious enough to make it a stop, anyway. Besides, she thinks, as the dropship's rear door lifts closed before takeoff, there was no sign of a ship, so they must have been here a while. If they've survived this long, another few hours won't kill them. Probably.
The dropship lifts off, and comes about to a low-altitude course en route to the ruins, as mining drones descend from orbit to recover the source of the distress signal. As she nears the target, Independence retrives a sidearm and holster from the dropship's supply locker. Armed against potentially-dangerous wildlife, she opens the loading door of her craft and leans out to peer down at the land below. The craft slows as it nears the ruined hamlet, and begins to circle, sensors searching for signs of life and relaying the information back to Independence.
Christofer had sat himself down next to Kallenger, ears still held low and directed backwards, and he'd sigh, not knowing what to do with the situation. The canid would be rubbing his hands - the tendors to be exact - against each other, before moving to the other joints. What a situation this was that they were in...
With the stranger starting to laugh, his ears fell even further back as his body flinched slightly and the canid bit his teeth against each other. He felt threatened. Laughing like that couldn't possibly have been a good sign... He shook his head at the thought, holding his hands over his biceps and a little above that. He felt uncomfortable.
But he would soon feel even more uncomfortable, for Kallenger seemed to suddenly burst out in laughter too. The canid instantly leaned away from her, thinking that it was some bad effect having trick from the stranger. Kallenger didn't laugh. She hardly even smiled. He had learned that and then grown found of and liked the moments when she did smile. But at the current moment? No. He did not like this. At all.
There was no room for him to even move his tail in a nervous manner. The strange acting had caused him to completely freeze in place. He'd not be moving any more than leaning himself away from the woman and holding himself. Other than that, the canid had his eyes nailed right onto the strange, abnormal sight.
He really wasn't sure whether he liked this or not.
Probably not in this situation though.
As if he couldn't get any more frozen, he did 'thaw out' in a way, but only so that he could gaze at Royanna ever so slightly deeper. Why. Why was she giving away their names? To a stranger? It didn't matter to him that they were a ragged up group with nothing much connecting them. But dang if he did. They had met a hostile group just a few hours ago or such, so what made this situation so different from that to make her not see giving their names away to a stranger as a bad idea?
She had lost it.
What was he to do now? He barely even knew the others in the group. They seemed like a decently functional team so far, but he had no idea what the intentions of the others were and so he was still clinging on the one person that he knew at least somewhat better than the others...
Hearing her state out not only her own name, but All of the names of the group, even His. The German was angry. It wouldn't be showing off his face, but he was indeed angry. So much so that he considered giving the woman a slap to the face, just to maybe wake her up from whatever 'Wonderland' she was thinking she roamed in. But no, he wouldn't do that.
What would that even do...
He'd be agreeing on the situation with Papyus. No point in complaining about spilled milk, alright... If he were to slap the loudmouth, he should have done that already. There was no point on doing that anymore. Well... Other than as a payback... But he wasn't a vengeful person, much at least, and would not like to be the one to possibly anger her whenever she got her feet back on the ground. She was still leaning on him afterall, so certainly she had some sort of trust in him.
With all of this, and Kallenger eventually waking up from her little trip, Christofer had absolutely no ideas on what had happened to the stranger. His attention was actually still fully fixated on Kallenger. Once she'd finally be able to pay some proper attention to him, he'd want to have it all for him for a moment.
He was not happy with the situation.
The brighter light reflecting from his eyes had made his pupils smaller in size and those neon yellow eyes kept on gazing at her intently. With that gleam in his eyes, it would probably make everything else around him and on the background to seem like there was nothing but void, just for that little focused moment.
Once asked if He was ok, he'd just keep that same gaze on his face, asking her right back without even answering.
"Are You okay?" That tone was cold, much colder than his usual one that usually had even some softness to it. Gone was softness from his tone at the moment. And to be honest, if it wasn't for his natural need to take care of others and have at least someone near him, the canid would have taken off and left then and there. But no... He was staying. If only for that hand that still liked to lean on his shoulder.
He'd not be trading any other words with her directly though, at least not words specifically meant for her.
Once his attention was released from her and he'd actually blink, turn his head and focus on the others in the room, getting off the table but not in a reckless way, ensuring that it wouldn't make Kallenger unbalanced.
It sounded like they were going to get some company soon if they wouldn't start moving out. He'd have to catch up on the situation once he cleared his mind a bit.
Paying attention to the other now, Royanna went unnoticed with her own special medications, but at the foul smell returning, stronger this time, the canid actually growled at it.
Things were not going well on his part...
With the stranger starting to laugh, his ears fell even further back as his body flinched slightly and the canid bit his teeth against each other. He felt threatened. Laughing like that couldn't possibly have been a good sign... He shook his head at the thought, holding his hands over his biceps and a little above that. He felt uncomfortable.
But he would soon feel even more uncomfortable, for Kallenger seemed to suddenly burst out in laughter too. The canid instantly leaned away from her, thinking that it was some bad effect having trick from the stranger. Kallenger didn't laugh. She hardly even smiled. He had learned that and then grown found of and liked the moments when she did smile. But at the current moment? No. He did not like this. At all.There was no room for him to even move his tail in a nervous manner. The strange acting had caused him to completely freeze in place. He'd not be moving any more than leaning himself away from the woman and holding himself. Other than that, the canid had his eyes nailed right onto the strange, abnormal sight.
He really wasn't sure whether he liked this or not.
Probably not in this situation though.
As if he couldn't get any more frozen, he did 'thaw out' in a way, but only so that he could gaze at Royanna ever so slightly deeper. Why. Why was she giving away their names? To a stranger? It didn't matter to him that they were a ragged up group with nothing much connecting them. But dang if he did. They had met a hostile group just a few hours ago or such, so what made this situation so different from that to make her not see giving their names away to a stranger as a bad idea?
She had lost it.
What was he to do now? He barely even knew the others in the group. They seemed like a decently functional team so far, but he had no idea what the intentions of the others were and so he was still clinging on the one person that he knew at least somewhat better than the others...
Hearing her state out not only her own name, but All of the names of the group, even His. The German was angry. It wouldn't be showing off his face, but he was indeed angry. So much so that he considered giving the woman a slap to the face, just to maybe wake her up from whatever 'Wonderland' she was thinking she roamed in. But no, he wouldn't do that.
What would that even do...
He'd be agreeing on the situation with Papyus. No point in complaining about spilled milk, alright... If he were to slap the loudmouth, he should have done that already. There was no point on doing that anymore. Well... Other than as a payback... But he wasn't a vengeful person, much at least, and would not like to be the one to possibly anger her whenever she got her feet back on the ground. She was still leaning on him afterall, so certainly she had some sort of trust in him.
With all of this, and Kallenger eventually waking up from her little trip, Christofer had absolutely no ideas on what had happened to the stranger. His attention was actually still fully fixated on Kallenger. Once she'd finally be able to pay some proper attention to him, he'd want to have it all for him for a moment.
He was not happy with the situation.
The brighter light reflecting from his eyes had made his pupils smaller in size and those neon yellow eyes kept on gazing at her intently. With that gleam in his eyes, it would probably make everything else around him and on the background to seem like there was nothing but void, just for that little focused moment.
Once asked if He was ok, he'd just keep that same gaze on his face, asking her right back without even answering.
"Are You okay?" That tone was cold, much colder than his usual one that usually had even some softness to it. Gone was softness from his tone at the moment. And to be honest, if it wasn't for his natural need to take care of others and have at least someone near him, the canid would have taken off and left then and there. But no... He was staying. If only for that hand that still liked to lean on his shoulder.
He'd not be trading any other words with her directly though, at least not words specifically meant for her.
Once his attention was released from her and he'd actually blink, turn his head and focus on the others in the room, getting off the table but not in a reckless way, ensuring that it wouldn't make Kallenger unbalanced.
It sounded like they were going to get some company soon if they wouldn't start moving out. He'd have to catch up on the situation once he cleared his mind a bit.
Paying attention to the other now, Royanna went unnoticed with her own special medications, but at the foul smell returning, stronger this time, the canid actually growled at it.
Things were not going well on his part...
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A stirring in the Not that was, electricity where there could exist none; energy where entropy once had sway, a thousand minds in havoc wreaked by this diminutive humanoid. This was destruction of a precision not known to her in centuries.
No, precision isn't the right word. There was no potential for error barring a catastrophic fault in the Devil's Eye. This was procedure, initiated by the flesh, and executed by a machine. Whether that machine was a transcendental artifact of would-be gods or a boy who knew only to destroy, why . . .
That remains to be seen. She saw through bleeding eyes both fear and fury, conspired in the act as a subject of his brain-matter. The Devil Eye did not ask, he only acted. And as it was wont to do, his Eye carried out the command accordingly, with inhuman relentlessness, indifferent to the fleeting rebellion of an inferior machine consciousness half-dying even as it landed safely as it had hoped it would.
Pots and pans, or something to that effect. Old Earth, that might've meant something. Today? Senseless jargon of an anthropological variety: A final thought before everything went dark. That mind no longer participated in the world of the living. Éva-9B 08 F9 AC D3 72 FC 41 was dead.
Then, "Nirix." Eoclu, one-seven-not meters, frie— a lie. To whom? To herself? Himself? Themselves? A half-truth, born of dissonance of heart and mind and body and soul. They saw through a familiar infrared gaze their own shape, a child-like Da'len. The gun, and then it was gone. And then something took over, and all was dark again.
Éva saw hard ground, and then hard wall. Above, blue sky; a dark alley, a bustling street . . . Just like home. Home, two-and-some-odd-billion years ago. For once, she literally felt herself, two skinny fingers pressed against her temples while she sat against the crease of pavement and thick metal.
The air was tasteless, without electricity. The entire block was browning out, but there was no static in the atmosphere. The smell was like compost, bitter and unpleasant, yet nonetheless therapeutic. A sensation, and a familiar one at that.
And then she lifted her head — their head — and felt a jolt of feedback she assumed was hazardous, and retreated. Ketin lifted his head, and in that very moment, was jarred by a sudden, brief loss of motor control. Slowly, the nerves stopped tingling, and the thoughts stopped clouding, as were the two-and-a-half brains he'd downloaded into his one were finally learning how to split the room fairly. He would have the arms and legs, and she would have the heart and lungs. Or something like that; it wasn't quite so clean.
It was less a transmission and more an impression, not half as clear as a thought the Devil's Eye extracted from one's mind, and certainly less clear than a voice. It was as if Ketin had dreamt the words, and only now recollected them: Hello, world.
A R D E L L A
”Are you okay?”
Royanna Kallenger froze, and looked vaguely as though someone had simultaneously prodded her in the back with a straight razor and informed her correctly that her entire life was a lie.
The woman’s life was, of course, not actually a lie – though all at once she was realizing that it wasn’t her life that was the problem…Not now, anyway. Not anymore. Following that, she just stared at the floor, lost in something between tragic epiphany and untimely loss. It had been only three words and an uncharacteristically cold tone, but the fact that it had struck dead-on-target was instantaneously clear. She just stared, eyes of deeply verdant green, sparingly hazeled with dead-leaf-brown, and looking a little glazed over now.
What was she doing? Get a hold of yourself you-
Royanna closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and focused all her energy into invoking the mental control she had so painstakingly, thoroughly built over all those years of intensive training. One exhale. In the mote-speckled air, alight by their work lamps, dust swirled before her. Eyes opened again, though not as widely – looking tired, sobered, and frankly pretty sad. Okay. No more laughing like a childish idiot.
Idiot.
Keep it together. Focus. The drugs didn’t have to make her act like an unhinged lunatic. She controlled how she acted. The stuff might grate on her veins like sandpaper, or throttle her brain cells ragged, but in the end it was she who decided how she acted.
And no more smiling, either!
Yes, good! All the while as she focused her inner monologue, those acutely honed senses had been listening to what was going on around her. She allowed the task of filtering out the negative mental effects of the drug to be taken over by the unconscious, having brought herself to trust it again. Excellent. Royanna Kallenger was herself again!
Except for the distant sensation of sandpaper in her blood veins – and the dilated pupils…And the way her hands seemed to grip everything too hard and shake a little…
Okay, so Royanna Kallenger was back to her usual, intensely serious never-smile personality!
Except that she was still acting jumpy, and –
Fine. Royanna Kallenger was back to not smiling or laughing ever. Done with that. Done forever.
It was time to move.
Enemies were coming. Papyus tossed one of her own needles, and Kallenger caught it, shoved it into a coat pocket. Her own experimental drugs would do for now. She was feeling great.
Hasty discussion between Imperials, she spoke rapidly with Cox – it took only seconds for them to confirm that they were on the same page regarding the air reserve’s layout and Royanna was all too ready to take the lead again. Moving to the door of the medbay she peered out in the direction that the Colonel implied their enemies would be coming from – it made sense in that the only easy way into the building would be the hole that Roya’s blade had carved – though the Special Agent was unsure as to what these new enemies were capable of. Regardless – they needed to make an exit.
Having been built in an age of secrecy, the air reserve base was accessable – under normal circumstances – only via an underground rail system which connected it to another, more standardized bunker some distance away. That was what they needed to find. The magrail technology would be very unlikely to have rusted, and the hydrogen fuel cells would last a few more centuries at least – all they had to do was find the station before the marching death caught up with them.
Out the door and up against the opposite wall, then it was down the corridor to the west. She and Cox took point, while the colonel provided desperately vital fire support in the event of inevitable conflict. Iril would prove useful in bulldozing and demolitions. Christofer…just did whatever he did.
The group moved with precision, with caution, and yet with haste. Around a second corner, a choice between two doors, Imperials glancing to each other and seeming to decide silently – and correctly – on the left.
The enemies had broken up – that, or still more had been sent around to flank them – Royanna only barely avoided giving them all away by sticking behind one crucial corner as soldiers of Ova went moving down a hallway on the far end. The blackness was absolute, broken only by the erratic, jarring beams of light produced by each member of the impromptu team.
An open chamber fit to sprint across, and then it was back into narrow corridors and small rooms of indeterminate purpose. Down a flight of stairs, then another.
A figure. Humanoid, visible only for the briefest flash of an instant, then gone so as to trick the mind into doubt. The hallways seemed to get more and more narrow and claustrophobic as they proceeded. There it was again – a human shape just beyond the eye’s realm of comprehension – and gone. Finally one of the phantoms made itself known – the being leaped out from an open door just as Christofer was passing it. Royanna was lightning to react, doubling back instantly to thrust her blade into the mass of the humanoid shape that had apparently tried to body-slam Christofer to the floor.
But there was no such humanoid. It had been a perfect illusion.
Now they were wasting time. Assuming that the canid had fallen due to the momentary certainty that he was going to be tackled to the floor, Royanna would extend a hand and half-drag him back to his feet, already moving again.
Phantoms. Humanoid shapes. They seemed to be growing in number. Undetectable by any form of instruments, yet disturbingly real. Nobody would have a chance to get a good look at one of them – they were always gone by the time a ray of light played upon their previous position.
The halls grew narrower, the darkness seemed to encroach on them, but Royanna was certain that they were nearing –
A dead end. Oops. It was likely neither the fault of her nor Cox – but Kallenger saw fit that if only she had made the right choice- but where? It didn’t matter. They had moved rapidly and gained some time, but it was inevitable that sooner or later they would be found and cornered.
Refusing to panic, Cox suggested something to Kallenger, who lit up with recognition at the point.
They had failed to locate the rail terminal, but they had made it closer to the entrance to the air reserve. There had been ancient, rusty signs indicating conference and board rooms – many of which had often been constructed very near to the terminals for hasty gatherings. They had hit a dead-end, but not far from whence they had come there had been a door.
She whirled around to address the robot, simultaneously booking it for that door. They still had time. Barely.
”Iril!” She barked, once again sounding about as hostile as one could while speaking to their allies. “That door’s rusted open. I’m going to try and close it, see if you can force it. The rest of you in here – these conference rooms are soundproof and armored so it’ll buy us some time.” She was already at the small wall terminal, growling and smacking the thing in an effort to make the ancient tech work – incredibly, this brutish tactic actually worked and the dim terminal screen flickered to life. Would a Special Agent’s unique security codes still be valid on something this old?
Yes, by some miracle – she was able to issue the command for lockdown of the conference room, and the door was trying its’ best to close, but would surely need the help of Iril to finish the job.
”Are you okay?”
Royanna Kallenger froze, and looked vaguely as though someone had simultaneously prodded her in the back with a straight razor and informed her correctly that her entire life was a lie.
The woman’s life was, of course, not actually a lie – though all at once she was realizing that it wasn’t her life that was the problem…Not now, anyway. Not anymore. Following that, she just stared at the floor, lost in something between tragic epiphany and untimely loss. It had been only three words and an uncharacteristically cold tone, but the fact that it had struck dead-on-target was instantaneously clear. She just stared, eyes of deeply verdant green, sparingly hazeled with dead-leaf-brown, and looking a little glazed over now.
What was she doing? Get a hold of yourself you-
Royanna closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and focused all her energy into invoking the mental control she had so painstakingly, thoroughly built over all those years of intensive training. One exhale. In the mote-speckled air, alight by their work lamps, dust swirled before her. Eyes opened again, though not as widely – looking tired, sobered, and frankly pretty sad. Okay. No more laughing like a childish idiot.
Idiot.
Keep it together. Focus. The drugs didn’t have to make her act like an unhinged lunatic. She controlled how she acted. The stuff might grate on her veins like sandpaper, or throttle her brain cells ragged, but in the end it was she who decided how she acted.
And no more smiling, either!
Yes, good! All the while as she focused her inner monologue, those acutely honed senses had been listening to what was going on around her. She allowed the task of filtering out the negative mental effects of the drug to be taken over by the unconscious, having brought herself to trust it again. Excellent. Royanna Kallenger was herself again!
Except for the distant sensation of sandpaper in her blood veins – and the dilated pupils…And the way her hands seemed to grip everything too hard and shake a little…
Okay, so Royanna Kallenger was back to her usual, intensely serious never-smile personality!
Except that she was still acting jumpy, and –
Fine. Royanna Kallenger was back to not smiling or laughing ever. Done with that. Done forever.
It was time to move.
Enemies were coming. Papyus tossed one of her own needles, and Kallenger caught it, shoved it into a coat pocket. Her own experimental drugs would do for now. She was feeling great.
Hasty discussion between Imperials, she spoke rapidly with Cox – it took only seconds for them to confirm that they were on the same page regarding the air reserve’s layout and Royanna was all too ready to take the lead again. Moving to the door of the medbay she peered out in the direction that the Colonel implied their enemies would be coming from – it made sense in that the only easy way into the building would be the hole that Roya’s blade had carved – though the Special Agent was unsure as to what these new enemies were capable of. Regardless – they needed to make an exit.
Having been built in an age of secrecy, the air reserve base was accessable – under normal circumstances – only via an underground rail system which connected it to another, more standardized bunker some distance away. That was what they needed to find. The magrail technology would be very unlikely to have rusted, and the hydrogen fuel cells would last a few more centuries at least – all they had to do was find the station before the marching death caught up with them.
Out the door and up against the opposite wall, then it was down the corridor to the west. She and Cox took point, while the colonel provided desperately vital fire support in the event of inevitable conflict. Iril would prove useful in bulldozing and demolitions. Christofer…just did whatever he did.
The group moved with precision, with caution, and yet with haste. Around a second corner, a choice between two doors, Imperials glancing to each other and seeming to decide silently – and correctly – on the left.
The enemies had broken up – that, or still more had been sent around to flank them – Royanna only barely avoided giving them all away by sticking behind one crucial corner as soldiers of Ova went moving down a hallway on the far end. The blackness was absolute, broken only by the erratic, jarring beams of light produced by each member of the impromptu team.
An open chamber fit to sprint across, and then it was back into narrow corridors and small rooms of indeterminate purpose. Down a flight of stairs, then another.
A figure. Humanoid, visible only for the briefest flash of an instant, then gone so as to trick the mind into doubt. The hallways seemed to get more and more narrow and claustrophobic as they proceeded. There it was again – a human shape just beyond the eye’s realm of comprehension – and gone. Finally one of the phantoms made itself known – the being leaped out from an open door just as Christofer was passing it. Royanna was lightning to react, doubling back instantly to thrust her blade into the mass of the humanoid shape that had apparently tried to body-slam Christofer to the floor.
But there was no such humanoid. It had been a perfect illusion.
Now they were wasting time. Assuming that the canid had fallen due to the momentary certainty that he was going to be tackled to the floor, Royanna would extend a hand and half-drag him back to his feet, already moving again.
Phantoms. Humanoid shapes. They seemed to be growing in number. Undetectable by any form of instruments, yet disturbingly real. Nobody would have a chance to get a good look at one of them – they were always gone by the time a ray of light played upon their previous position.
The halls grew narrower, the darkness seemed to encroach on them, but Royanna was certain that they were nearing –
A dead end. Oops. It was likely neither the fault of her nor Cox – but Kallenger saw fit that if only she had made the right choice- but where? It didn’t matter. They had moved rapidly and gained some time, but it was inevitable that sooner or later they would be found and cornered.
Refusing to panic, Cox suggested something to Kallenger, who lit up with recognition at the point.
They had failed to locate the rail terminal, but they had made it closer to the entrance to the air reserve. There had been ancient, rusty signs indicating conference and board rooms – many of which had often been constructed very near to the terminals for hasty gatherings. They had hit a dead-end, but not far from whence they had come there had been a door.
She whirled around to address the robot, simultaneously booking it for that door. They still had time. Barely.
”Iril!” She barked, once again sounding about as hostile as one could while speaking to their allies. “That door’s rusted open. I’m going to try and close it, see if you can force it. The rest of you in here – these conference rooms are soundproof and armored so it’ll buy us some time.” She was already at the small wall terminal, growling and smacking the thing in an effort to make the ancient tech work – incredibly, this brutish tactic actually worked and the dim terminal screen flickered to life. Would a Special Agent’s unique security codes still be valid on something this old?
Yes, by some miracle – she was able to issue the command for lockdown of the conference room, and the door was trying its’ best to close, but would surely need the help of Iril to finish the job.
D A E D A L U S
There were few sensations Ketin had ever known to be more internally satisfying than that of recalling in clarity a dream that had been lost. Dreams, like whole worlds disappearing into shadow – returning again, validating him – yes, you remember it. You remember how it felt to live in another place, a different reality in which you were not a monster, where you were capable of more than destruction. It was a heartwarming feeling in a way – and so when he seemed to recall a simple phrase that had apparently been lost somewhere in the back of his head for a while, he couldn’t help himself.
”Hello world.” He said absently, distractedly, still staring with glazed eyes.
And with the memory of the long-since-dreamt came a more recent realization – it had not disturbed him at the time, but what was with that minute sensation of…what, disconnection? Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted though?
She put his fingers to his temples – and abruptly he seemed to snap out of it and look up at the metal man before him.
”I’m twenty-two years old, thank you.” He said peevishly, glowering a little. This was, of course, actually a lie on two levels, since his actual age was somewhere in the vicinity of four and a half centuries, and he had been frozen in time at nineteen. Still though, he seemed quite honest, lacking the juvenile grump that might have suggested he was merely trying to seem older than he was.
He’d hold the peeved half-glare until the metal-man accepted this statement convincingly, at which point he’d let it fall away in a heartbeat and replace it with a soft, exhausted little smile. He could think now – or, mostly think – he could go over the past few moments with a tad more scrutiny. He hadn’t even realized that GA-83’s name (Or, designation?Was that racist?) had been printed on the…What, robot? Android? Cyborg? He was definitely seeing through 83’s eyes, there definitely appeared to be an organic brain in there, but he had been fooled before. No matter.
”Well to answer your questions…” He began, speaking in a low, tired voice that seemed characteristic of someone who had just suffered some great injury, but was grateful for having it treated despite the pain…Or someone who had endured a total mental breakdown, and was only now coming out of the stupor while trying to make the best of it.
“My name’s É-“ Something caught in his throat. He coughed a little – probably dust from the earlier destruction. ”Ketin, or Kete.” He concluded, then nodded toward Nirix. ”That’s Nirix, and tha-…” He stuttered again, train of thought seeming to flicker ever so subtly. ”You’re following us because I’m pretty sure those soldiers in there were gonna’ really ruin your day…Thanks for stopping that crazy chick’s energy-bullet-thing, by the way.”
Things sticking out of his head – the wire? People asked about that sometimes, but no, wait- ”What are…y’mean these?” He put a finger to the tip of one ear. It was a very pointy ear. Pointier than he remembered? ”Those are my ears, and yes-” the metal man had managed to get a soft little laugh out of him. ”We’ll probably be friends.”
What was he forgetting now? Oh, right – Nirix had now seen first-hand just what kind of monster he really was. He wondered why she was still here – not that he’d have had it any other way. He couldn’t look her in the eye.
”Say, if you’ve got a ship – you weren’t planning on leaving the planet any time soon were you? ‘Cause I dunno’ if those soldier people might be looking for us, might be a good idea to get outta’ dodge, y’know? And, y’know, you…You’d prolly’ wanna’ come too, Ny’. J-just in case.” He faltered there, sounding insecure and even approaching sheepish. So she knew now, first-hand, that he was a creature of destruction – he still didn’t want her to go. Couldn’t he hang on to just this one relationship?
No, sooner or later it still had to go the way it did for everyone else…But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. He still couldn’t look up at her.
Dreams did tend to come back at the oddest moments. He’d have preferred to abstain from this one though – a car crash. The last half-second of terrible thrill in his chest just before-
Well, it wasn’t the worst dream he’d ever recalled. Still it wasn’t exactly the kind of dream he was accustomed to. Sure, he dreamt with others – but what he saw in the minds of those around him was so different from what his own miserable brain came up with.
He felt like he was breathing wrong. Too fast? Slightly too slow? Out-of-rhythm. A classic case of ”You are now breathing consciously” except that he wasn’t. He felt a little jumpy, too, like he wanted at once to get to his feet and simultaneously did not want to move. It was something resembling anxiety – the kind he could ever so vaguely recall from so, so long ago.
A dim, dusty room. Cots, row-en-row. The muffled sound of other children outside, just on the opposite side of the wall – a similar view of floor and opposite wall. An old fireplace with the last remnants of glowing embers and the faintest specter plume rising from it to dissipate in the stale air. It would be safe up against the wall, right? Not like anyone wanted to hurt him, he was logical enough to know that – but his whole body was buzzing. Hands felt like they were trembling, but they weren’t. The desire to move, yet feeling claustrophobic within his own body, paralyzed by some inward force too fickle to make itself known.
But it was more of a memory of the feeling rather than the feeling itself. There was a disconnection there, a minute gap? His fingers felt stiff – not unresponsive but…What, augmented? No. Just different. It was a pleasant shade of azure, he thought.
Even if GA-83 wasn’t planning on leaving the planet, going with him seemed like the best thing to do at the moment. At last, Kete stood up, reaching out to brush fingertips against the brick wall for idle support – or, he thought he had. He tried again – there it was. Now hands could be shoved into coat pockets. He looked downward, glanced anxiously to Nirix for only a moment, looking away again before asking timidly, uncertainly ”You, uh…you are gonna’ come, right?” He wanted to add ’there’ll be other jobs’ but decided against it for the moment…
There were few sensations Ketin had ever known to be more internally satisfying than that of recalling in clarity a dream that had been lost. Dreams, like whole worlds disappearing into shadow – returning again, validating him – yes, you remember it. You remember how it felt to live in another place, a different reality in which you were not a monster, where you were capable of more than destruction. It was a heartwarming feeling in a way – and so when he seemed to recall a simple phrase that had apparently been lost somewhere in the back of his head for a while, he couldn’t help himself.
”Hello world.” He said absently, distractedly, still staring with glazed eyes.
And with the memory of the long-since-dreamt came a more recent realization – it had not disturbed him at the time, but what was with that minute sensation of…what, disconnection? Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted though?
She put his fingers to his temples – and abruptly he seemed to snap out of it and look up at the metal man before him.
”I’m twenty-two years old, thank you.” He said peevishly, glowering a little. This was, of course, actually a lie on two levels, since his actual age was somewhere in the vicinity of four and a half centuries, and he had been frozen in time at nineteen. Still though, he seemed quite honest, lacking the juvenile grump that might have suggested he was merely trying to seem older than he was.
He’d hold the peeved half-glare until the metal-man accepted this statement convincingly, at which point he’d let it fall away in a heartbeat and replace it with a soft, exhausted little smile. He could think now – or, mostly think – he could go over the past few moments with a tad more scrutiny. He hadn’t even realized that GA-83’s name (Or, designation?Was that racist?) had been printed on the…What, robot? Android? Cyborg? He was definitely seeing through 83’s eyes, there definitely appeared to be an organic brain in there, but he had been fooled before. No matter.
”Well to answer your questions…” He began, speaking in a low, tired voice that seemed characteristic of someone who had just suffered some great injury, but was grateful for having it treated despite the pain…Or someone who had endured a total mental breakdown, and was only now coming out of the stupor while trying to make the best of it.
“My name’s É-“ Something caught in his throat. He coughed a little – probably dust from the earlier destruction. ”Ketin, or Kete.” He concluded, then nodded toward Nirix. ”That’s Nirix, and tha-…” He stuttered again, train of thought seeming to flicker ever so subtly. ”You’re following us because I’m pretty sure those soldiers in there were gonna’ really ruin your day…Thanks for stopping that crazy chick’s energy-bullet-thing, by the way.”
Things sticking out of his head – the wire? People asked about that sometimes, but no, wait- ”What are…y’mean these?” He put a finger to the tip of one ear. It was a very pointy ear. Pointier than he remembered? ”Those are my ears, and yes-” the metal man had managed to get a soft little laugh out of him. ”We’ll probably be friends.”
What was he forgetting now? Oh, right – Nirix had now seen first-hand just what kind of monster he really was. He wondered why she was still here – not that he’d have had it any other way. He couldn’t look her in the eye.
”Say, if you’ve got a ship – you weren’t planning on leaving the planet any time soon were you? ‘Cause I dunno’ if those soldier people might be looking for us, might be a good idea to get outta’ dodge, y’know? And, y’know, you…You’d prolly’ wanna’ come too, Ny’. J-just in case.” He faltered there, sounding insecure and even approaching sheepish. So she knew now, first-hand, that he was a creature of destruction – he still didn’t want her to go. Couldn’t he hang on to just this one relationship?
No, sooner or later it still had to go the way it did for everyone else…But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. He still couldn’t look up at her.
Dreams did tend to come back at the oddest moments. He’d have preferred to abstain from this one though – a car crash. The last half-second of terrible thrill in his chest just before-
Well, it wasn’t the worst dream he’d ever recalled. Still it wasn’t exactly the kind of dream he was accustomed to. Sure, he dreamt with others – but what he saw in the minds of those around him was so different from what his own miserable brain came up with.
He felt like he was breathing wrong. Too fast? Slightly too slow? Out-of-rhythm. A classic case of ”You are now breathing consciously” except that he wasn’t. He felt a little jumpy, too, like he wanted at once to get to his feet and simultaneously did not want to move. It was something resembling anxiety – the kind he could ever so vaguely recall from so, so long ago.
A dim, dusty room. Cots, row-en-row. The muffled sound of other children outside, just on the opposite side of the wall – a similar view of floor and opposite wall. An old fireplace with the last remnants of glowing embers and the faintest specter plume rising from it to dissipate in the stale air. It would be safe up against the wall, right? Not like anyone wanted to hurt him, he was logical enough to know that – but his whole body was buzzing. Hands felt like they were trembling, but they weren’t. The desire to move, yet feeling claustrophobic within his own body, paralyzed by some inward force too fickle to make itself known.
But it was more of a memory of the feeling rather than the feeling itself. There was a disconnection there, a minute gap? His fingers felt stiff – not unresponsive but…What, augmented? No. Just different. It was a pleasant shade of azure, he thought.
Even if GA-83 wasn’t planning on leaving the planet, going with him seemed like the best thing to do at the moment. At last, Kete stood up, reaching out to brush fingertips against the brick wall for idle support – or, he thought he had. He tried again – there it was. Now hands could be shoved into coat pockets. He looked downward, glanced anxiously to Nirix for only a moment, looking away again before asking timidly, uncertainly ”You, uh…you are gonna’ come, right?” He wanted to add ’there’ll be other jobs’ but decided against it for the moment…
Nirix knew that this relative peace was not meant to last.
She knew that wherever Ketin was to go, something was to disrupt the peace. But this was what Nirix was used to. Even without meeting her troublesome Da'len, Nirix never stayed in one place long. It was always, meet with your contact, kill the target and collect the money. Followed by staying for at least another day and the travelling to the next world. It was simple and the Eoclu liked it that way.
Yet, was it truly okay to travel with Ketin? He had nearly destroyed an entire building and at what expense? Because of her? Because she was willing to sacrifice herself for him? What would happen if she were to try that again? It would definitely be something to keep in check...
Besides, there was also the matter of Ketin's...spaced outness. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Though he probably had a lot on his mind and it was probably a lot harder to think with the new addition of their company. What exactly was he? Nirix couldn't come up with a proper name for it, for she was not necessarily use to such a thing. What had they soldiers called it? A...robot?
"Sure Da'len, I will come with," She found herself agreeing. Nirix had to keep Ketin happy, after all they had recently been through, it most definitely made sense. Make him happy and good things were sure to happen.
"I have other jobs lined up, though I feel bad for your friend in Ronin. Will they be forgiving if you don't go and see them?"
She knew that wherever Ketin was to go, something was to disrupt the peace. But this was what Nirix was used to. Even without meeting her troublesome Da'len, Nirix never stayed in one place long. It was always, meet with your contact, kill the target and collect the money. Followed by staying for at least another day and the travelling to the next world. It was simple and the Eoclu liked it that way.
Yet, was it truly okay to travel with Ketin? He had nearly destroyed an entire building and at what expense? Because of her? Because she was willing to sacrifice herself for him? What would happen if she were to try that again? It would definitely be something to keep in check...
Besides, there was also the matter of Ketin's...spaced outness. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Though he probably had a lot on his mind and it was probably a lot harder to think with the new addition of their company. What exactly was he? Nirix couldn't come up with a proper name for it, for she was not necessarily use to such a thing. What had they soldiers called it? A...robot?
"Sure Da'len, I will come with," She found herself agreeing. Nirix had to keep Ketin happy, after all they had recently been through, it most definitely made sense. Make him happy and good things were sure to happen.
"I have other jobs lined up, though I feel bad for your friend in Ronin. Will they be forgiving if you don't go and see them?"
GA-83 nodded his head. 21 years old. He could keep that in mind. Oh wait, that reminds him. He'll have to ask their birthdays later. He made finger guns with his hands, and pointed them to the respective person as he said their names.
"Anyways...Ketin...Nirix...Kete...Ny...Gotcha! To tell you the truth I still kinda wanna-"
The sound of clamoring soldiers in the background confirmed Kete's words. Immediately his finger guns spun in the opposite direction, his head spinning a full one eighty degrees as well.
"-Go immediately! Oh boy, I'm so excited to leave...Let's get going! My craft is docked in the harbor."
He pointed in the direction of what seemed to be a giant landfill. Of course, he had no idea it was a dump. It resembled harbors back home all too familiarly. GA-83 made a face that would have turned red had he been human, and his arm started to turn in rapid acceleration. The sound of whirring grew louder and louder, and suddenly his hands rocketed out into the distance. He looked towards the two, gesturing them with the hand that he didn't release.
"Grab onto me. I don't have any of those seat warming things or air conditioning, but it's the quickest way to travel, I promise."
"Anyways...Ketin...Nirix...Kete...Ny...Gotcha! To tell you the truth I still kinda wanna-"
The sound of clamoring soldiers in the background confirmed Kete's words. Immediately his finger guns spun in the opposite direction, his head spinning a full one eighty degrees as well.
"-Go immediately! Oh boy, I'm so excited to leave...Let's get going! My craft is docked in the harbor."
He pointed in the direction of what seemed to be a giant landfill. Of course, he had no idea it was a dump. It resembled harbors back home all too familiarly. GA-83 made a face that would have turned red had he been human, and his arm started to turn in rapid acceleration. The sound of whirring grew louder and louder, and suddenly his hands rocketed out into the distance. He looked towards the two, gesturing them with the hand that he didn't release.
"Grab onto me. I don't have any of those seat warming things or air conditioning, but it's the quickest way to travel, I promise."
N O T S P A C E
Into The Kingsbane
Even though The Girl would simply come back to the same hallway that led towards the Research Department, it was endless how many things She had missed out until finally meeting up with the Director himself. Pretty much anything inside the mechanical entrails of this, apparent, colossal automaton looked so different from where she originally came from. Light sources? Shed by blinding rods of - or tubes - of pure brilliance, some of which would hurt even to look at, much like gazing straight into a star. Air? Unbelievably clean, obviously blown out from many rectangular holes placed strategically on the corners of each room, all of them blocked by a thin, metallic grating.
And, space-be-damned, those doors.
One thing, however, could even draw the attention of some of the crew.
While She was being led towards her unfortunate fate by the hands of Severin, a framed picture, of a certain person, would hang amidst the many pipes, machinery and equipment protruding from the walls. He was a normal person, just like Severin, just like Her. Like anybody else in this place, actually. He looked pretty important, somehow. A man of certain age, judging by his full beard fading into shades of gray as he whore a teethy, wide grin, radiating with megalomania, all while a dark red... bar was tightly encased into his sparkling white fangs... While its tip apparently burned off. His attire was quite elegant. A pearly wide coat with the left hemisphere of his chest lined with many shiny looking badges and medals of all colors and shapes. Swords, cannons, stars, skulls. Silver, golden. It could be said that ten to twelve of the objects hung over his coat.
There was some sort of message or title written right below the man's portrait, though. Tt was impossible to figure out what those glyphs meant...
But now, finally, maybe the Girl had an idea who the archdemonic voice belonged to...
"Want to support the GREAT King's Might from the comfort of your Colonial Home??? "
"Get NOW your Pablito, El Diablo™!!! Proudly consumed by the GREATEST Expedition Admiral of Human History!!!"
"Now with 20% more dried Native Ssazharian Peppers~!"
... And right after the message, there was him, The Devil. AKA... Karellan.
The sight of That Man would become a presence that She will need to get used to in a very near future... And vice-versa.
Even though the people amidst their trek would speak exclusively to the Doctor in lead, some of those individuals would occasionally wave, smile and nod or simply let out a friendly "Hi there!" to the Newcomer. All of them wouldn't even figure out that this Mysterious Girl was not part of the actual crew. A young woman wearing slack attire inside the Kingsbane? Much probably a naive newcomer that was treading right towards the Captain, the sole reason of why all of the crew wore those sparking-clean navy uniforms. It was strange how Severin appeared to completely ignore some of the passer-byes and vice-versa. She couldn't see it, but it was an almost sure bet on how the Old Man would look at them with utter disgust if he had a pair of actual, human eyes.
Even more curious, was the fact that Severin lacked any of the fancy clothing worn by most of the crew, preferring to use just a leather jacket and a pair of cargo pants.
Eventually, the Turbo-Duo would arrive at their destination.
"Nothing... How... Interesting! Hehehe." - Severin would mutter, letting out a low giggle upon the Girl's reaction. "Come on, you're supposed to shout a loud, alien '<****> you'. This can't be good for my... Experiment!"
A groan came out from the Doctor, hinting at slight frustration of his Friend's reaction, or rather, lack of. He expected to collect some information about the customs of Her people in this little 'experiment'. And to get some laughs from it, of course. Severin was pretty much sure that the 'trouble' of someone carrying that box around was nothing more than a recurring joke of the Kingsbane's crew. Mishandling of that special package, in other hand, was where the real trouble was. Should the package's contents arrive to the Captain in perfect condition, some jobs would surely be ended.
Again, more people would walk by the duo, either waving to the Doctor or letting more friendly greetings. Notably, most of them would stare at the Girl's struggle to open those doors with... Troubled faces. Either by what she was actually doing to the door or about the nature of the object that She was carrying. Much likely both.
As She struggled to get the door opened, Severin quietly attempted to contain the waves of hilarity that was invading his mind. That scene was ridiculous, unexpectedly the kind of humor that the Doctor was fond the most. The struggle of a naive spacefarer to get a double bulkhead door open while desperately carrying Captain Wan Nabes' special cigars.
No... This need to get on OurTube.
All of the footage was caught. The constant lever-fiddling, the moments moments of frozen analysis of the door's mechanisms, hell, the part where She almost pressed the Emergency Lockdown button! While this surely would get Her in some serious trouble, a little devil inside Severin wanted profoundly to let that happen... That's when the Doctor realized that letting a youth of alien origins mess around in Wan Nabes' ship wasn't a great idea at all.
After many fits of concealed, yet breathtaking laughter, the Old Man finally brought himself towards the door and, to finish up with Her humiliation, he managed to open the door merely by flipping two levers at once... Both of which that She had already messed with... One at a time.
Suddenly... "... What the <****>? SEVERIN??? At last you decided to bring your ugly <***> here??"
The very own Arch Demon brought his cursed presence with heavy steps towards Severin, bearing a tattered uniform and some fancy spacefarer hat. Was that really It? The voice felt strikingly similar to that thundering noise coming out from everywhere, but now? It felt so much... Quieter Even though he was screaming at the moment.
Fortunately, he appeared to completely ignore the Girl...
"Apparently, Captain." - The Doctor made sure to say it in a mocking tone. "Your precious ship needs an active research staff if you expect it to survi--"
"DON'T <*******> BARF ME YOUR SMART<***> BULL<****> AT ME, YOU <*******> NERD!!!" - Then, finally... Wan Nabes' eyes switched to the Youth.
"What the he-- WHO IN THE ACTUAL <****> ARE YOU?? YOU'RE A <*************> FREELOADER, AIN'T YA??? I'LL <*******> SHOW 'YA, YOU <*****>!!!"
The Captain would then proceed to bring his thick, grease stained hand towards the Girl's collar!
... If only She had an object to defend Herself with...
[Working on the other stuff.]
Into The Kingsbane
Even though The Girl would simply come back to the same hallway that led towards the Research Department, it was endless how many things She had missed out until finally meeting up with the Director himself. Pretty much anything inside the mechanical entrails of this, apparent, colossal automaton looked so different from where she originally came from. Light sources? Shed by blinding rods of - or tubes - of pure brilliance, some of which would hurt even to look at, much like gazing straight into a star. Air? Unbelievably clean, obviously blown out from many rectangular holes placed strategically on the corners of each room, all of them blocked by a thin, metallic grating.
And, space-be-damned, those doors.
One thing, however, could even draw the attention of some of the crew.
While She was being led towards her unfortunate fate by the hands of Severin, a framed picture, of a certain person, would hang amidst the many pipes, machinery and equipment protruding from the walls. He was a normal person, just like Severin, just like Her. Like anybody else in this place, actually. He looked pretty important, somehow. A man of certain age, judging by his full beard fading into shades of gray as he whore a teethy, wide grin, radiating with megalomania, all while a dark red... bar was tightly encased into his sparkling white fangs... While its tip apparently burned off. His attire was quite elegant. A pearly wide coat with the left hemisphere of his chest lined with many shiny looking badges and medals of all colors and shapes. Swords, cannons, stars, skulls. Silver, golden. It could be said that ten to twelve of the objects hung over his coat.
There was some sort of message or title written right below the man's portrait, though. Tt was impossible to figure out what those glyphs meant...
But now, finally, maybe the Girl had an idea who the archdemonic voice belonged to...
"Want to support the GREAT King's Might from the comfort of your Colonial Home??? "
"Get NOW your Pablito, El Diablo™!!! Proudly consumed by the GREATEST Expedition Admiral of Human History!!!"
"Now with 20% more dried Native Ssazharian Peppers~!"
... And right after the message, there was him, The Devil. AKA... Karellan.
The sight of That Man would become a presence that She will need to get used to in a very near future... And vice-versa.
Even though the people amidst their trek would speak exclusively to the Doctor in lead, some of those individuals would occasionally wave, smile and nod or simply let out a friendly "Hi there!" to the Newcomer. All of them wouldn't even figure out that this Mysterious Girl was not part of the actual crew. A young woman wearing slack attire inside the Kingsbane? Much probably a naive newcomer that was treading right towards the Captain, the sole reason of why all of the crew wore those sparking-clean navy uniforms. It was strange how Severin appeared to completely ignore some of the passer-byes and vice-versa. She couldn't see it, but it was an almost sure bet on how the Old Man would look at them with utter disgust if he had a pair of actual, human eyes.
Even more curious, was the fact that Severin lacked any of the fancy clothing worn by most of the crew, preferring to use just a leather jacket and a pair of cargo pants.
Eventually, the Turbo-Duo would arrive at their destination.
"Nothing... How... Interesting! Hehehe." - Severin would mutter, letting out a low giggle upon the Girl's reaction. "Come on, you're supposed to shout a loud, alien '<****> you'. This can't be good for my... Experiment!"
A groan came out from the Doctor, hinting at slight frustration of his Friend's reaction, or rather, lack of. He expected to collect some information about the customs of Her people in this little 'experiment'. And to get some laughs from it, of course. Severin was pretty much sure that the 'trouble' of someone carrying that box around was nothing more than a recurring joke of the Kingsbane's crew. Mishandling of that special package, in other hand, was where the real trouble was. Should the package's contents arrive to the Captain in perfect condition, some jobs would surely be ended.
Again, more people would walk by the duo, either waving to the Doctor or letting more friendly greetings. Notably, most of them would stare at the Girl's struggle to open those doors with... Troubled faces. Either by what she was actually doing to the door or about the nature of the object that She was carrying. Much likely both.
As She struggled to get the door opened, Severin quietly attempted to contain the waves of hilarity that was invading his mind. That scene was ridiculous, unexpectedly the kind of humor that the Doctor was fond the most. The struggle of a naive spacefarer to get a double bulkhead door open while desperately carrying Captain Wan Nabes' special cigars.
No... This need to get on OurTube.
● REC
All of the footage was caught. The constant lever-fiddling, the moments moments of frozen analysis of the door's mechanisms, hell, the part where She almost pressed the Emergency Lockdown button! While this surely would get Her in some serious trouble, a little devil inside Severin wanted profoundly to let that happen... That's when the Doctor realized that letting a youth of alien origins mess around in Wan Nabes' ship wasn't a great idea at all.
After many fits of concealed, yet breathtaking laughter, the Old Man finally brought himself towards the door and, to finish up with Her humiliation, he managed to open the door merely by flipping two levers at once... Both of which that She had already messed with... One at a time.
Suddenly... "... What the <****>? SEVERIN??? At last you decided to bring your ugly <***> here??"
The very own Arch Demon brought his cursed presence with heavy steps towards Severin, bearing a tattered uniform and some fancy spacefarer hat. Was that really It? The voice felt strikingly similar to that thundering noise coming out from everywhere, but now? It felt so much... Quieter Even though he was screaming at the moment.
Fortunately, he appeared to completely ignore the Girl...
"Apparently, Captain." - The Doctor made sure to say it in a mocking tone. "Your precious ship needs an active research staff if you expect it to survi--"
"DON'T <*******> BARF ME YOUR SMART<***> BULL<****> AT ME, YOU <*******> NERD!!!" - Then, finally... Wan Nabes' eyes switched to the Youth.
"What the he-- WHO IN THE ACTUAL <****> ARE YOU?? YOU'RE A <*************> FREELOADER, AIN'T YA??? I'LL <*******> SHOW 'YA, YOU <*****>!!!"
The Captain would then proceed to bring his thick, grease stained hand towards the Girl's collar!
... If only She had an object to defend Herself with...
[Working on the other stuff.]
Aboard the STELLA VIVENTIUM
]
[Initializing…]
[Init.Sequence-7]
[Init.Recall]
[Boot.SFunctions ]
[Query.PreRecCmd]
[cmd.init.SFunctions]
[Incm.Msg-PreRec]
[Begin]
[A Y R P U E K A W O T E M I T]
[End]
[Launch.Scan-SParam-ER]
[Scanning…]
[(1) Match found!]
[Found “Rya Valheimer”]
[CheckStat>>Integ.]
[RecInteg. 99.9%!]
[WARNING – Imperfect subject integrity.]
[Proceed with recall?]
[y]
[Engage.recall- “Rya Valheimer” SD-113-13-1-3-13]
[CheckStat>>T.13]
[T.13 integ. 100%]
[StartTransfer>>T.13]
[S-7 Complete!]
[Downloading…]
[0%]
“The Stella’s database is unlike any computing system known to Mankind. It is by far the most intelligent nonhuman entity to date – that is, of course, holding to my belief that the Denizens are, in fact, quite human.”
It was death – utter non-existence – the complete and total lack of any concept resembling consciousness, any idea resembling even the faintest flicker of a sentient thought. Death – the Real Death – but reality was a concept unwaveringly restricted to those who existed within it, and they who could not attain consciousness could have no concept of the difference between life and death – between reality and unreality.
[24%]
“Yes, of course a Denizen was involved in the creation of the Stella’s mainframe. It is an engineering feat that would prove thoroughly impossible without her. Yes, her. Can we press the topic on to something more relevant?”
What became of a human being after death? It was a topic of endless conjecture and debate. Indeed more had died trying to prove the superiority of their own afterlives over others than could be imagined. But to strip away the superstition, the manipulation, the misconceptions and outright lies – what then? What became of a human being after death?
[32%]
“Yes, the entirety of the Ares Foundation of Knowledge has been transferred into the Stella database. Accusations of subversive politics are disgusting and abhorrently untrue. All it is, is a backup. Why keep Mankind’s vast store of knowledge hoarded in one place in an age where information can be transferred faster even than the speed of light?”
An assembly of – what, code? Information? Data? Sparkly little lights hidden away in some microscopic construction of circuits deep within the bowels of a great machine? A concept, an idea – a series of notions organized into an entity which grew and grew in complexity until it was self-sustaining, even self-replicating. Ideas were the most easily transmitted virus in the history of human kind. Self-sufficient, adaptable, infinitesimally complex and mind-bogglingly fundamental. What was a human?
[44%]
“Cai? No, the Stella’s mainframe wasn’t built off of the CAI-Prototypes, and accusations suggesting a fully-functional Computer Artificial Intelligence are, to my knowledge, completely false. Speculation that the I.R.I. is intended as some kind of ‘human time capsule’ are equally absurd. We’ve known for centuries how to transfer the human consciousness from the organic brain into a digital format. We also know how easy it is to corrupt such a consciousness in the process…Oh, did I? My apologies, it was just a ‘working title’ for the project before it went public. “
It had, of course, left not the slightest trace of having ever been there. It did nothing, and yet somewhere in the deepest inner workings of the hyper-complex, fringe-science entity that was the Stella Viventium’s Core Mainframe changed spontaneously, and ordered one insignificant bit of information to be taken from one conceptual place and moved to another.
Was it
Conception?
Or…
Rebirth?
”Why do you seek the living one among the dead?”
[57%]
“My brother? Why should I have any news on his doings that you couldn’t go ask him yourself? No, he’s only indirectly involved with the Stella Project. He’s been overseeing the engineering division – he’s always been better with people than myself.”
Data was transferred. Patterns were copied, moved, rearranged – no, not rearranged. Everything was kept exactly as it was – imperfections and all. But what harm would a measly .1% be? Certainly the assembly that was the human mind could function just the same with a .1% difference.
Even if that meager difference happened to be that one lacked utterly any idea as to why they were being taken out of storage…Or, indeed, why they had been put in storage in the first place? And How?
But awareness had not returned…not yet. After all, how could a meaningless assembly of informational patterns possibly be aware of anything? How could it feel? It couldn’t.
Not yet.
[63%]
“Yes, as of late I’ve become much more of a…public figure than I would like. It is…regrettable. But, of course, if people are ever going to believe me when I insist that my scientific advancements are intended only to benefit the human race and not some preposterous, secret scheme…Well I suppose I’ll have to be in the public eye more than would usually be comfortable. What’s that? No, you’re fine. I’m not some kind of Haphephobe.”
The Sleeving Department of the Stella Viventium was not the most popular sort of place. There was something about clones resting in suspended animation row-en-row that seemed to generally unnerve the general population. They just floated there in their tubes, lifeless, mindless…right?
Of course they were mindless – that’s what Beral Nathans always insisted. He was, after all, head of the department, and he had achieved the position only after spending the first decade of his adult life studying the sciences of synthetic-organics.
A comfortable thirty-something now – he never did pay too much attention to that sort of thing – Beral Nathans was of average height and build, with a complexion of chocolate boding well for laugh-lines about his lips and gradually manifesting crows’-feet about the corners of flecked chestnut eyes. Presently, Dr. Nathans sat at his desk and rifled through the disarrayed host of messages he had received in the past couple of hours. He was vaguely aware that the Stella had entered Notspace some time ago – but as with the vast majority of the citizens aboard the city-sized behemoth, this was not particularly interesting nor concerning to him. It was routine, in fact. Sure, word was traveling about that something serious was going down – but it was frankly none of his business.
He had no reason to expect a ‘visitor’. The obscure little command had been issued automatically and not a trace remained of where it had been ordered from or by who’s authority. It had been issued some days ago, actually – and though it had actually been a two-part command made no difference.
Part one ordered the biological ‘blueprints’ of a certain body, long-since stored away in the deepest recesses of the Stella’s memory, put to use and a physical form created that would perfectly replicate the specifications of the original.
Part two ordered another little cluster of data to be transferred from equally deep recesses of the Stella’s memory into the organic computing vessel inside the newly grown body.
And Beral Nathans was none the wiser…Despite the fact that all resleeving operations required his direct approval before they could be initiated.
[77%]
“Oh, come now. We’ve already learned how to transcend Death itself. What’s next?”
In Incubation Tank T.13 a human body had been growing for some time. By now it was fully developed – actually the process had been remarkably hasty, requiring only a few days to complete the order. A body without a mind looked far more at peace than any resting consciousness. It had not a care in the world, floating there in the blue liquid. It was unaware of the technological marvels that went into creating it through a biological ‘3D-Printing’ process over a number of days. It had no reason to know that it existed now only because a Mysterious Signal had, seemingly at random, ordered it to be created. It would never know that the purpose for its’ existence was to be the host of the consciousness of a person who had last known life immeasurably long ago. A person whos’ entire existence was now lost in the myth, along with countless others that time had long, long since left behind.
[83%]
It was as the process of transferring the consciousness into the newly created body was nearing completion that Beral Nathans finally caught wind of the perplexing situation – and, admittedly, it was a more alarming jolt than he would have preferred, flashing on the holographic screen before him all of a sudden.
[URGENT MESSAGE]
So, naturally he navigated to it.
[T.13 RESLEEVING 94% COMPLETE. REPORT SUBJECT TO HIGHEST AVAILABLE AUTHORITY IMMEDIATELY AS ORDERED BY AAA-1 CLEARANCE.]
Well, that about covered it. Apparently someone was going to be waking up soon, and not one of his nurses, but he must see to it. Very well. There were some other details in the message as well – he glanced over them, did a double-take, read them all more closely, and then stood to vacate his office.
[95%]
The resleeving department was typically only used in order to keep occupants of the Stella – particularly the important ones – alive and in good health. Rarely did someone resleeve their mind into a new body in order to avoid death by old age – it had long since been decided that it was exactly that sort of thing which led to the demise of otherwise stable civilizations. Rather, resleeving was done when irreparable damage was incurred on someone’s body. The department would be notified, the specifications would be recorded, downloaded, and utilized to grow a body virtually identical to the original. Then the transfer process would begin.
Beral Nathans could not recall any occasion in which a body had been brought forth from the databanks themselves without first being recorded into them. He had certainly never conceived of a consciousness being dragged out of storage and inserted into a body. Most people knew that it was possible to store a human consciousness in digital format – but the science of it had been largely lost in time – at least for the people of the Stella Viventium. It was not some inconceivable, unobtainable knowledge – but even after all this time, the culture of the Stella had remained stable enough that its’ people consistently neglected research into the digital storage of human consciousness.
So then, Beral thought – this was some ghost from the far distant past, reanimated now before his eyes?
[99%]
Tank T.13 was, of course, in the far back of the great chamber in which all of the blue-filled tubes lay horizontally and row-en-row. He couldn’t recall having ever found reason to visit it before now, but the Doctor arrived shortly to see that, sure enough, there was someone in there. He looked down at the nude form, partially obscured by the distortion of thick, blue liquid, with an expression of distaste. This whole ordeal was already not sitting well with him.
[100%]
[Transfer Complete.]
[CheckStat>>Integ.Bio]
[100%!]
[100%!]
[100%!]
[All systems clear.]
[End.Process]
It was not like awakening from a deep slumber. Nor was it akin to abruptly coming into existence or consciousness. It was virtually indescribable – but subtle, and not all that unpleasant. A warmth throughout the body – a body that was hers, but not hers. Paralysis, but that was okay since who needed to move anyway? It was not the oppressive sluggishness associated with drugs – it was a sleepiness unlike any other slumber the mortal mind might hope to comprehend.
Rya Valheimer had been brought forth from the depths of the Stella Viventium’s Mainframe, having been stored away there for the untold eons since the vessel originally departed from the Sol System. She had been unthinking, unexisting – but now she had been recalled, implanted into a freshly-grown body exhibiting a likeness to her original so uncanny as to prove unnoticeable even to the ‘user’. The process had begun with the Mysterious Signal some days before, and completed in close proximity to the lost world of Isandril.
She had awoken in a strange place with no memory as to how she had gotten there.
All at once, awareness would flood in, and Rya Valheimer was abruptly brought back to life after epochs of the sleep of death.
Outside the tank, a side-mounted display informed Doctor Beral Nathans that the transfer was complete, and that consciousness was now returning to the subject. With a BrainPal©issued command the glass front panel of the horizontal tube slid silently to the side. Simultaneously the blue liquid – which, of course, was oxygen-rich enough that it could be breathed without the feeling of drowning or suffocation – was slowly starting to drain. With her abrupt return to full awareness (At least, to some degree) Rya would be able now to sit up, if she so desired.
It was unlikely, even in this unusual case, that the Doctor would not have time to at least greet the woman once she had sat up. Rya would be met with the pleasant, if vaguely homely African-derived face of Doctor Nathans smiling warmly – and perhaps just a little perplexedly – down at her, and holding forth a simple cotton frock with which she could clothe herself temporarily.
“Welcome back to the Land of the Living.” He said softly.
D A E D A L U S
Relief washed over Kete instantaneously. A twenty-pound weight seemed to slide off his shoulders and down his back to dissipate in the alleyway asphalt.
"Good." He found himself replying, not paying particular attention to what he was saying. "I's afraid after that you'd..." But words halted and ceased. He looked confused now, the blank, perplexed sort of expression he tended to give when something just wasn't clicking. Then he seemed to get things straight, and before he could stop himself muttered ever so quietly;
"You believed that?"
Oops.
@#$%.
He was regretting the words even as he spoke them.
Granted, he really hadn't thought that Nirix believed the lie about a friend in the city of Ronin - which, of course, Kete had never so much as seen, let alone dwelt long enough to find a friend. It had been such a hasty, poorly conceived lie that the Fox had passed it off as more of a diversion than an actual fallacy. It was common enough, particularly with him - a clumsily, half-hearted fib was usually able to get across the message that he'd really just prefer if you made it easy and just went ahead and believed him~! But apparently Kete was a better liar than he was giving himself credit for.
And, of course, he had gone and ruined that now.
Or, at least, he was pretty certain he had.
Time to change the subject! All the routine of a day's work for a person who lived balancing a web of lies to hide the far more gruesome truth.
With some haste, he said "Oh, they'll be fine. I never actually told them I was coming so it's just as well, y'know?"
Even though he was pretty certain she had heard him - those Eoclu ears were very sensitive, about on par with his own, and moreso depending on the situation - he had to keep up the facade. He could not, after all, go doing something so horrendously stupid as admitting to lying. That would be disastrous! If for no other reason than that it would force him to admit it to himself...
But they had the perfect distraction - what luck! The distant, but approaching tramp of booted soldiers. Kete had scarcely been so happy to hear so dreadful a sound. Anything to postpone...this.
So, with one telling glance to Nirix with which he might confirm that she would do as he did, Kete latched on firmly to whatever particular aspect their new friend so desired. If Nirix hesitated he would clamp on to one of her hands and give a firm tug in his direction so as to imply that she should hurry up and grab on!
And then, of course, he would hold on for dear life, and try not to think about anything but the situation at hand.
Car crash.
N O T S P A C E - The Kingsbane
As the pair approached the double doors which would some moments later prove to be a disastrous humiliation for her, the girl was continuing to marvel at all the little wonders that this fantastic new place had to offer. The lights were harsh, though she liked it – absently she wondered how they worked, why they weren’t light blue like lights normally were. Indeed she did lag behind for an infinitesimal moment to stand on tiptoe and gaze into one of the brilliantly glaring bars, only to realize with relative haste that it was much too bright. Following that, she would stumble back toward her guide and, yet again, stick uncomfortably close.
Another interesting thing that caught her attention was what could only have been a framed piece of art of some kind. Again, she stopped momentarily – perhaps it was all these short little stops that would later put Severin in the kind of mood he would find himself in?
The man in the picture was like her…but not like her. The basic shape was the same, but he was different in all the little details. The darker skin tone, the weirdly colored irises – she wasn’t sure she’d ever get accustomed to that one – oh, and not to mention that he had hair on his face. He was smiling broadly and…gnawing on something? Maybe it was just the angle, but the girl couldn’t help absently thumbing at one of her own canine fangs, so vastly sharper than that of these new people. It was a detail she realized now that she had failed to notice.
But what really got her attention was the man’s attire. Not only was it all so gloriously, spotlessly white But…
But…
But that hat.
It was wonderful!
It was practically entrancing. The way it peaked, the short brim, the emblem on the centerfold and the thin gold band about the hem – it was positively magnanimous. Sure, her own simple, black cap was more precious to her than perhaps any other object she had ever known to exist. She wouldn’t trade that old cap for anything – but still! It looked like, like…
Like the hats that the Red Birds wore. Vaguely, anyway. It was similarly peaked, even if the color was entirely different. Regardless, that was what it reminded her of – and she was startled to realize just how long it had been since she had thought about the Red Birds at all. Immeasurable. That seemingly infinite period of time between before and now.
The old man was getting impatient, she figured – so it was time to go – but she had already made up her mind.
And so commenced the fiasco with the door, the abject humiliation just barely masked by the indignance and resentment lingering from the realization that she was most definitely being made fun of. It wasn’t her fault that whoever had engineered this ridiculous place didn’t know how to make doors! It wasn’t fair – and to make things worse, she was finding herself divided. After all, she wanted little more in the world than to do whatever she was supposed to do. She wanted very much to trust the old man, yet presently he was most definitely getting laughs at her expense and that was…
She’d thought that was over with, she realized. The memory was vague and hard to place, but…
Well, it had felt good while it lasted, but she was a damned idiot for thinking that the people in this new place wouldn’t be just as aware of the fact as everyone else was. An idiot in one place was an idiot in another.
Oh well, there was no use dwelling on it. Despite not being able to place specific examples, the girl was now keenly aware of the fact that she was more than accustomed to others getting laughs at her expense. Best to move on. Forget it. IF anything, she was finding herself even more obstinate than before.
And then, all at once, a whole bunch of little things came together before her eyes.
There was the man from the picture in the hall – she was sure of it. The weird face hair – though the fantastically white attire had fallen into serious ruin, which was beyond disappointing. And there was that hat!
There were a whole lot of emotions all at once – for even as she confirmed that this angry guy was in fact the guy from the picture in the hall, she also discovered that he had been the terrifying voice all along!
From the tumult of conflicting emotions at last emerged something akin to anger. How could she possibly been so terrified as she had been by, by…this? This dirty little man – she was still a great deal shorter than he, yet still something about his demeanor at the present made him seem small to her – who was presently screaming in the face of the old guy whom she was pretty sure was…something vaguely resembling a friend? She didn’t know any more. All she did know was that,
That…
That...
She’d show him, dammit.
This rapid string of thoughts shot through the girl’s head in the time it took for her to realize that he was, in fact, about to grab her roughly by the collar of her shirt – or maybe around her neck, she wasn’t sure. It was not an appealing prospect. So she acted without really thinking first…at all. This had proven to be a dire mistake in the past, but that was the problem with acting without thinking – one did it without thinking of the consequences. Though at present she wouldn’t have particularly cared anyway – something about the sudden rush of the situation had given her a boost and she was feeling as plucky as ever. Screw it all. Might as well have some fun – maybe get back at the old man through this guy.
The man in dirty white reached out to grab her. She looked at him with a queer blend of disgust and impish intent – and alarm, too – and when the man’s hands clasped down around the fabric of her shirt…
It was distinctly wooden and square feeling. This was not at all what the collar of a girl’s T shirt should have felt like!
Oh, and she was gone, too.
But that wasn’t nearly the worst part.
The whole thing had happened so fast that one might second-guess themselves as to what happened at all. He reached to grab the girl, but all at once she had just disappeared and he found the box of cigars in his hands instead, with Karellan glaring mockingly up at him with the flaming pepper between his teeth.
And in the same ‘motion’, the girl proceeded to commit – without realizing the severity of her actions – possibly the most heinous crime known to the Kingsbane, and possibly the whole Universe.
The girl appeared behind him
And snatched his hat!
There had been a thin, black cord securing the hat to the man’s head to assure that it would not fall from its’ perch, but that had been no obstacle at all – she plucked the hat off his head like nothing at all, and in the same stumbling sort of movement she took a few steps backward, came to a halt, turned, removed her own cap to stuff it in back pocket.
Then, with possibly the most fantastically defiant grin ever conceived in the history of troublemakers, she confidently – though very carefully – put the hat on her head. She was gentle and almost reverent toward the object in her hands, clearly understanding that it was of some significant value or importance, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
Of course, she would prove utterly impossible to catch. If anyone made a lunge at her, she’d just disappear again, snapping to some other part of the chamber without the slightest sound or motion – save, perhaps, for the slight appearance as though she were about to trip over something in the very instant before popping out of, and back into existence.
But whether she had to dodge a few lunges or her display had stunned everyone into stillness, one thing was adamantly clear judging by the look on her face – she was not afraid of the Captain. Not one bit. It hardly seemed possible that a rather scrawny, five-something girl would show such a blatant contempt for the Arch Demon of the Kingsbane, but there it was. She had yet to realize, of course, that she had just done one of the things that she was quite certain she was not supposed to do – though, all in due course.
And, whether or not she would need to go a-dodging, the girl would see fit to do another one of the things she had been very certain was off limits, and speak – in that baffling, unknown language with the rapid syllables and sibilant structure that, coincidentally, appeared to share inflection with most known languages.
As such, it was beyond obvious that she spoke with furiously cocky contempt, even sounding as though she were chiding the Captain over something. Maybe the sorry state he’d allowed his previously spotless jacket to fall into.
” Y'tp ese'ra se'se'a n't ilse'r ne'drn zrilqu'se'n. In's sge'tss! Oe'd, ra I 'twse' a'tpe e'drn oa ne'dse' kira~”
]
[Initializing…]
[Init.Sequence-7]
[Init.Recall]
[Boot.SFunctions ]
[Query.PreRecCmd]
[cmd.init.SFunctions]
[Incm.Msg-PreRec]
[Begin]
[A Y R P U E K A W O T E M I T]
[End]
[Launch.Scan-SParam-ER]
[Scanning…]
[(1) Match found!]
[Found “Rya Valheimer”]
[CheckStat>>Integ.]
[RecInteg. 99.9%!]
[WARNING – Imperfect subject integrity.]
[Proceed with recall?]
[y]
[Engage.recall- “Rya Valheimer” SD-113-13-1-3-13]
[CheckStat>>T.13]
[T.13 integ. 100%]
[StartTransfer>>T.13]
[S-7 Complete!]
[Downloading…]
[0%]
“The Stella’s database is unlike any computing system known to Mankind. It is by far the most intelligent nonhuman entity to date – that is, of course, holding to my belief that the Denizens are, in fact, quite human.”
It was death – utter non-existence – the complete and total lack of any concept resembling consciousness, any idea resembling even the faintest flicker of a sentient thought. Death – the Real Death – but reality was a concept unwaveringly restricted to those who existed within it, and they who could not attain consciousness could have no concept of the difference between life and death – between reality and unreality.
[24%]
“Yes, of course a Denizen was involved in the creation of the Stella’s mainframe. It is an engineering feat that would prove thoroughly impossible without her. Yes, her. Can we press the topic on to something more relevant?”
What became of a human being after death? It was a topic of endless conjecture and debate. Indeed more had died trying to prove the superiority of their own afterlives over others than could be imagined. But to strip away the superstition, the manipulation, the misconceptions and outright lies – what then? What became of a human being after death?
[32%]
“Yes, the entirety of the Ares Foundation of Knowledge has been transferred into the Stella database. Accusations of subversive politics are disgusting and abhorrently untrue. All it is, is a backup. Why keep Mankind’s vast store of knowledge hoarded in one place in an age where information can be transferred faster even than the speed of light?”
An assembly of – what, code? Information? Data? Sparkly little lights hidden away in some microscopic construction of circuits deep within the bowels of a great machine? A concept, an idea – a series of notions organized into an entity which grew and grew in complexity until it was self-sustaining, even self-replicating. Ideas were the most easily transmitted virus in the history of human kind. Self-sufficient, adaptable, infinitesimally complex and mind-bogglingly fundamental. What was a human?
[44%]
“Cai? No, the Stella’s mainframe wasn’t built off of the CAI-Prototypes, and accusations suggesting a fully-functional Computer Artificial Intelligence are, to my knowledge, completely false. Speculation that the I.R.I. is intended as some kind of ‘human time capsule’ are equally absurd. We’ve known for centuries how to transfer the human consciousness from the organic brain into a digital format. We also know how easy it is to corrupt such a consciousness in the process…Oh, did I? My apologies, it was just a ‘working title’ for the project before it went public. “
It had, of course, left not the slightest trace of having ever been there. It did nothing, and yet somewhere in the deepest inner workings of the hyper-complex, fringe-science entity that was the Stella Viventium’s Core Mainframe changed spontaneously, and ordered one insignificant bit of information to be taken from one conceptual place and moved to another.
Was it
Conception?
Or…
Rebirth?
”Why do you seek the living one among the dead?”
[57%]
“My brother? Why should I have any news on his doings that you couldn’t go ask him yourself? No, he’s only indirectly involved with the Stella Project. He’s been overseeing the engineering division – he’s always been better with people than myself.”
Data was transferred. Patterns were copied, moved, rearranged – no, not rearranged. Everything was kept exactly as it was – imperfections and all. But what harm would a measly .1% be? Certainly the assembly that was the human mind could function just the same with a .1% difference.
Even if that meager difference happened to be that one lacked utterly any idea as to why they were being taken out of storage…Or, indeed, why they had been put in storage in the first place? And How?
But awareness had not returned…not yet. After all, how could a meaningless assembly of informational patterns possibly be aware of anything? How could it feel? It couldn’t.
Not yet.
[63%]
“Yes, as of late I’ve become much more of a…public figure than I would like. It is…regrettable. But, of course, if people are ever going to believe me when I insist that my scientific advancements are intended only to benefit the human race and not some preposterous, secret scheme…Well I suppose I’ll have to be in the public eye more than would usually be comfortable. What’s that? No, you’re fine. I’m not some kind of Haphephobe.”
The Sleeving Department of the Stella Viventium was not the most popular sort of place. There was something about clones resting in suspended animation row-en-row that seemed to generally unnerve the general population. They just floated there in their tubes, lifeless, mindless…right?
Of course they were mindless – that’s what Beral Nathans always insisted. He was, after all, head of the department, and he had achieved the position only after spending the first decade of his adult life studying the sciences of synthetic-organics.
A comfortable thirty-something now – he never did pay too much attention to that sort of thing – Beral Nathans was of average height and build, with a complexion of chocolate boding well for laugh-lines about his lips and gradually manifesting crows’-feet about the corners of flecked chestnut eyes. Presently, Dr. Nathans sat at his desk and rifled through the disarrayed host of messages he had received in the past couple of hours. He was vaguely aware that the Stella had entered Notspace some time ago – but as with the vast majority of the citizens aboard the city-sized behemoth, this was not particularly interesting nor concerning to him. It was routine, in fact. Sure, word was traveling about that something serious was going down – but it was frankly none of his business.
He had no reason to expect a ‘visitor’. The obscure little command had been issued automatically and not a trace remained of where it had been ordered from or by who’s authority. It had been issued some days ago, actually – and though it had actually been a two-part command made no difference.
Part one ordered the biological ‘blueprints’ of a certain body, long-since stored away in the deepest recesses of the Stella’s memory, put to use and a physical form created that would perfectly replicate the specifications of the original.
Part two ordered another little cluster of data to be transferred from equally deep recesses of the Stella’s memory into the organic computing vessel inside the newly grown body.
And Beral Nathans was none the wiser…Despite the fact that all resleeving operations required his direct approval before they could be initiated.
[77%]
“Oh, come now. We’ve already learned how to transcend Death itself. What’s next?”
In Incubation Tank T.13 a human body had been growing for some time. By now it was fully developed – actually the process had been remarkably hasty, requiring only a few days to complete the order. A body without a mind looked far more at peace than any resting consciousness. It had not a care in the world, floating there in the blue liquid. It was unaware of the technological marvels that went into creating it through a biological ‘3D-Printing’ process over a number of days. It had no reason to know that it existed now only because a Mysterious Signal had, seemingly at random, ordered it to be created. It would never know that the purpose for its’ existence was to be the host of the consciousness of a person who had last known life immeasurably long ago. A person whos’ entire existence was now lost in the myth, along with countless others that time had long, long since left behind.
[83%]
It was as the process of transferring the consciousness into the newly created body was nearing completion that Beral Nathans finally caught wind of the perplexing situation – and, admittedly, it was a more alarming jolt than he would have preferred, flashing on the holographic screen before him all of a sudden.
[URGENT MESSAGE]
So, naturally he navigated to it.
[T.13 RESLEEVING 94% COMPLETE. REPORT SUBJECT TO HIGHEST AVAILABLE AUTHORITY IMMEDIATELY AS ORDERED BY AAA-1 CLEARANCE.]
Well, that about covered it. Apparently someone was going to be waking up soon, and not one of his nurses, but he must see to it. Very well. There were some other details in the message as well – he glanced over them, did a double-take, read them all more closely, and then stood to vacate his office.
[95%]
The resleeving department was typically only used in order to keep occupants of the Stella – particularly the important ones – alive and in good health. Rarely did someone resleeve their mind into a new body in order to avoid death by old age – it had long since been decided that it was exactly that sort of thing which led to the demise of otherwise stable civilizations. Rather, resleeving was done when irreparable damage was incurred on someone’s body. The department would be notified, the specifications would be recorded, downloaded, and utilized to grow a body virtually identical to the original. Then the transfer process would begin.
Beral Nathans could not recall any occasion in which a body had been brought forth from the databanks themselves without first being recorded into them. He had certainly never conceived of a consciousness being dragged out of storage and inserted into a body. Most people knew that it was possible to store a human consciousness in digital format – but the science of it had been largely lost in time – at least for the people of the Stella Viventium. It was not some inconceivable, unobtainable knowledge – but even after all this time, the culture of the Stella had remained stable enough that its’ people consistently neglected research into the digital storage of human consciousness.
So then, Beral thought – this was some ghost from the far distant past, reanimated now before his eyes?
[99%]
Tank T.13 was, of course, in the far back of the great chamber in which all of the blue-filled tubes lay horizontally and row-en-row. He couldn’t recall having ever found reason to visit it before now, but the Doctor arrived shortly to see that, sure enough, there was someone in there. He looked down at the nude form, partially obscured by the distortion of thick, blue liquid, with an expression of distaste. This whole ordeal was already not sitting well with him.
[100%]
[Transfer Complete.]
[CheckStat>>Integ.Bio]
[100%!]
[100%!]
[100%!]
[All systems clear.]
[End.Process]
It was not like awakening from a deep slumber. Nor was it akin to abruptly coming into existence or consciousness. It was virtually indescribable – but subtle, and not all that unpleasant. A warmth throughout the body – a body that was hers, but not hers. Paralysis, but that was okay since who needed to move anyway? It was not the oppressive sluggishness associated with drugs – it was a sleepiness unlike any other slumber the mortal mind might hope to comprehend.
Rya Valheimer had been brought forth from the depths of the Stella Viventium’s Mainframe, having been stored away there for the untold eons since the vessel originally departed from the Sol System. She had been unthinking, unexisting – but now she had been recalled, implanted into a freshly-grown body exhibiting a likeness to her original so uncanny as to prove unnoticeable even to the ‘user’. The process had begun with the Mysterious Signal some days before, and completed in close proximity to the lost world of Isandril.
She had awoken in a strange place with no memory as to how she had gotten there.
All at once, awareness would flood in, and Rya Valheimer was abruptly brought back to life after epochs of the sleep of death.
Outside the tank, a side-mounted display informed Doctor Beral Nathans that the transfer was complete, and that consciousness was now returning to the subject. With a BrainPal©issued command the glass front panel of the horizontal tube slid silently to the side. Simultaneously the blue liquid – which, of course, was oxygen-rich enough that it could be breathed without the feeling of drowning or suffocation – was slowly starting to drain. With her abrupt return to full awareness (At least, to some degree) Rya would be able now to sit up, if she so desired.
It was unlikely, even in this unusual case, that the Doctor would not have time to at least greet the woman once she had sat up. Rya would be met with the pleasant, if vaguely homely African-derived face of Doctor Nathans smiling warmly – and perhaps just a little perplexedly – down at her, and holding forth a simple cotton frock with which she could clothe herself temporarily.
“Welcome back to the Land of the Living.” He said softly.
D A E D A L U S
Relief washed over Kete instantaneously. A twenty-pound weight seemed to slide off his shoulders and down his back to dissipate in the alleyway asphalt.
"Good." He found himself replying, not paying particular attention to what he was saying. "I's afraid after that you'd..." But words halted and ceased. He looked confused now, the blank, perplexed sort of expression he tended to give when something just wasn't clicking. Then he seemed to get things straight, and before he could stop himself muttered ever so quietly;
"You believed that?"
Oops.
@#$%.
He was regretting the words even as he spoke them.
Granted, he really hadn't thought that Nirix believed the lie about a friend in the city of Ronin - which, of course, Kete had never so much as seen, let alone dwelt long enough to find a friend. It had been such a hasty, poorly conceived lie that the Fox had passed it off as more of a diversion than an actual fallacy. It was common enough, particularly with him - a clumsily, half-hearted fib was usually able to get across the message that he'd really just prefer if you made it easy and just went ahead and believed him~! But apparently Kete was a better liar than he was giving himself credit for.
And, of course, he had gone and ruined that now.
Or, at least, he was pretty certain he had.
Time to change the subject! All the routine of a day's work for a person who lived balancing a web of lies to hide the far more gruesome truth.
With some haste, he said "Oh, they'll be fine. I never actually told them I was coming so it's just as well, y'know?"
Even though he was pretty certain she had heard him - those Eoclu ears were very sensitive, about on par with his own, and moreso depending on the situation - he had to keep up the facade. He could not, after all, go doing something so horrendously stupid as admitting to lying. That would be disastrous! If for no other reason than that it would force him to admit it to himself...
But they had the perfect distraction - what luck! The distant, but approaching tramp of booted soldiers. Kete had scarcely been so happy to hear so dreadful a sound. Anything to postpone...this.
So, with one telling glance to Nirix with which he might confirm that she would do as he did, Kete latched on firmly to whatever particular aspect their new friend so desired. If Nirix hesitated he would clamp on to one of her hands and give a firm tug in his direction so as to imply that she should hurry up and grab on!
And then, of course, he would hold on for dear life, and try not to think about anything but the situation at hand.
Car crash.
N O T S P A C E - The Kingsbane
As the pair approached the double doors which would some moments later prove to be a disastrous humiliation for her, the girl was continuing to marvel at all the little wonders that this fantastic new place had to offer. The lights were harsh, though she liked it – absently she wondered how they worked, why they weren’t light blue like lights normally were. Indeed she did lag behind for an infinitesimal moment to stand on tiptoe and gaze into one of the brilliantly glaring bars, only to realize with relative haste that it was much too bright. Following that, she would stumble back toward her guide and, yet again, stick uncomfortably close.
Another interesting thing that caught her attention was what could only have been a framed piece of art of some kind. Again, she stopped momentarily – perhaps it was all these short little stops that would later put Severin in the kind of mood he would find himself in?
The man in the picture was like her…but not like her. The basic shape was the same, but he was different in all the little details. The darker skin tone, the weirdly colored irises – she wasn’t sure she’d ever get accustomed to that one – oh, and not to mention that he had hair on his face. He was smiling broadly and…gnawing on something? Maybe it was just the angle, but the girl couldn’t help absently thumbing at one of her own canine fangs, so vastly sharper than that of these new people. It was a detail she realized now that she had failed to notice.
But what really got her attention was the man’s attire. Not only was it all so gloriously, spotlessly white But…
But…
But that hat.
It was wonderful!
It was practically entrancing. The way it peaked, the short brim, the emblem on the centerfold and the thin gold band about the hem – it was positively magnanimous. Sure, her own simple, black cap was more precious to her than perhaps any other object she had ever known to exist. She wouldn’t trade that old cap for anything – but still! It looked like, like…
Like the hats that the Red Birds wore. Vaguely, anyway. It was similarly peaked, even if the color was entirely different. Regardless, that was what it reminded her of – and she was startled to realize just how long it had been since she had thought about the Red Birds at all. Immeasurable. That seemingly infinite period of time between before and now.
The old man was getting impatient, she figured – so it was time to go – but she had already made up her mind.
And so commenced the fiasco with the door, the abject humiliation just barely masked by the indignance and resentment lingering from the realization that she was most definitely being made fun of. It wasn’t her fault that whoever had engineered this ridiculous place didn’t know how to make doors! It wasn’t fair – and to make things worse, she was finding herself divided. After all, she wanted little more in the world than to do whatever she was supposed to do. She wanted very much to trust the old man, yet presently he was most definitely getting laughs at her expense and that was…
She’d thought that was over with, she realized. The memory was vague and hard to place, but…
Well, it had felt good while it lasted, but she was a damned idiot for thinking that the people in this new place wouldn’t be just as aware of the fact as everyone else was. An idiot in one place was an idiot in another.
Oh well, there was no use dwelling on it. Despite not being able to place specific examples, the girl was now keenly aware of the fact that she was more than accustomed to others getting laughs at her expense. Best to move on. Forget it. IF anything, she was finding herself even more obstinate than before.
And then, all at once, a whole bunch of little things came together before her eyes.
There was the man from the picture in the hall – she was sure of it. The weird face hair – though the fantastically white attire had fallen into serious ruin, which was beyond disappointing. And there was that hat!
There were a whole lot of emotions all at once – for even as she confirmed that this angry guy was in fact the guy from the picture in the hall, she also discovered that he had been the terrifying voice all along!
From the tumult of conflicting emotions at last emerged something akin to anger. How could she possibly been so terrified as she had been by, by…this? This dirty little man – she was still a great deal shorter than he, yet still something about his demeanor at the present made him seem small to her – who was presently screaming in the face of the old guy whom she was pretty sure was…something vaguely resembling a friend? She didn’t know any more. All she did know was that,
That…
That...
She’d show him, dammit.
This rapid string of thoughts shot through the girl’s head in the time it took for her to realize that he was, in fact, about to grab her roughly by the collar of her shirt – or maybe around her neck, she wasn’t sure. It was not an appealing prospect. So she acted without really thinking first…at all. This had proven to be a dire mistake in the past, but that was the problem with acting without thinking – one did it without thinking of the consequences. Though at present she wouldn’t have particularly cared anyway – something about the sudden rush of the situation had given her a boost and she was feeling as plucky as ever. Screw it all. Might as well have some fun – maybe get back at the old man through this guy.
The man in dirty white reached out to grab her. She looked at him with a queer blend of disgust and impish intent – and alarm, too – and when the man’s hands clasped down around the fabric of her shirt…
It was distinctly wooden and square feeling. This was not at all what the collar of a girl’s T shirt should have felt like!
Oh, and she was gone, too.
But that wasn’t nearly the worst part.
The whole thing had happened so fast that one might second-guess themselves as to what happened at all. He reached to grab the girl, but all at once she had just disappeared and he found the box of cigars in his hands instead, with Karellan glaring mockingly up at him with the flaming pepper between his teeth.
And in the same ‘motion’, the girl proceeded to commit – without realizing the severity of her actions – possibly the most heinous crime known to the Kingsbane, and possibly the whole Universe.
The girl appeared behind him
And snatched his hat!
There had been a thin, black cord securing the hat to the man’s head to assure that it would not fall from its’ perch, but that had been no obstacle at all – she plucked the hat off his head like nothing at all, and in the same stumbling sort of movement she took a few steps backward, came to a halt, turned, removed her own cap to stuff it in back pocket.
Then, with possibly the most fantastically defiant grin ever conceived in the history of troublemakers, she confidently – though very carefully – put the hat on her head. She was gentle and almost reverent toward the object in her hands, clearly understanding that it was of some significant value or importance, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
Of course, she would prove utterly impossible to catch. If anyone made a lunge at her, she’d just disappear again, snapping to some other part of the chamber without the slightest sound or motion – save, perhaps, for the slight appearance as though she were about to trip over something in the very instant before popping out of, and back into existence.
But whether she had to dodge a few lunges or her display had stunned everyone into stillness, one thing was adamantly clear judging by the look on her face – she was not afraid of the Captain. Not one bit. It hardly seemed possible that a rather scrawny, five-something girl would show such a blatant contempt for the Arch Demon of the Kingsbane, but there it was. She had yet to realize, of course, that she had just done one of the things that she was quite certain she was not supposed to do – though, all in due course.
And, whether or not she would need to go a-dodging, the girl would see fit to do another one of the things she had been very certain was off limits, and speak – in that baffling, unknown language with the rapid syllables and sibilant structure that, coincidentally, appeared to share inflection with most known languages.As such, it was beyond obvious that she spoke with furiously cocky contempt, even sounding as though she were chiding the Captain over something. Maybe the sorry state he’d allowed his previously spotless jacket to fall into.
” Y'tp ese'ra se'se'a n't ilse'r ne'drn zrilqu'se'n. In's sge'tss! Oe'd, ra I 'twse' a'tpe e'drn oa ne'dse' kira~”
As soon as consciousness was regained, she wanted to go to sleep. It had something to do with the unfamiliar, yet incredibly pleasant warmth. But she pushed herself awake, and looked around.
With no memory of how she got here, slowly she came to the conclusion of having been kidnapped. She lifted a hand to her cheek, sitting up slowly, and then finally seemed to notice the man standing there with the cloth.
"Welcome to the Land of the Living," he had just said.
She felt her eyes widen. She'd been dead?
"Thank you," she muttered, fixing him with her most icy stare, one with no feeling. Though she was both scared and rather confused, and knew he could probably answer her questions, she showed him nothing. It wasn't like she trusted him just yet..
Glancing down at her body, she took the cloth, which she found to be a frock, made of a material she'd never come into contact with before. It was unlike the material her uniform used to be made of, it felt more organic. She pulled it on before addressing the man in her most formal tone, as she was trained to.
It seemed to her that he was a superior, and so she treated him as such, and saluted with three fingers, then lowered her hands to her sides. And then she said nothing, merely looking around curiously before losing stance altogether and letting her shoulders slump.
"Where am I, exactly?" She mumbled the question miserably, before whispering something along the lines of, "This doesn't feel like my home.."
There was a tint of caution painted onto her face, as if she were expecting him to step back and reveal a bunch of people who'd attack, and probably kill her.
With no memory of how she got here, slowly she came to the conclusion of having been kidnapped. She lifted a hand to her cheek, sitting up slowly, and then finally seemed to notice the man standing there with the cloth.
"Welcome to the Land of the Living," he had just said.
She felt her eyes widen. She'd been dead?
"Thank you," she muttered, fixing him with her most icy stare, one with no feeling. Though she was both scared and rather confused, and knew he could probably answer her questions, she showed him nothing. It wasn't like she trusted him just yet..
Glancing down at her body, she took the cloth, which she found to be a frock, made of a material she'd never come into contact with before. It was unlike the material her uniform used to be made of, it felt more organic. She pulled it on before addressing the man in her most formal tone, as she was trained to.
It seemed to her that he was a superior, and so she treated him as such, and saluted with three fingers, then lowered her hands to her sides. And then she said nothing, merely looking around curiously before losing stance altogether and letting her shoulders slump.
"Where am I, exactly?" She mumbled the question miserably, before whispering something along the lines of, "This doesn't feel like my home.."
There was a tint of caution painted onto her face, as if she were expecting him to step back and reveal a bunch of people who'd attack, and probably kill her.
Doctor Nathans regretted immediately the first words he had gone and uttered to this individual who clearly had every reason to be on-edge. His lips tightened. This was, he realized abruptly, going to be an awkward explanation. Well, honesty was usually the best policy.
The unusual salute the woman gave did not seem to register with the dark-skinned man, who did briefly consider returning it just to make her feel better, but decided it wasn't worth further potential awkwardness. He did, however, extend a hand to help her out of the horizontal tank, if she do desired to take it.
"You're...Well I'll be honest with you, this might be a little difficult to explain." At least the large, open chamber held very little in the way of 'cover' that one might anticipate someone jumping out at them...Though the truly suspicious would always find something.
As she stood, Rya would find that despite the familiarity with the body she now inhabited, it still felt...off when she moved. Stiff, vaguely rubbery. though not intrusively or overwhelmingly so. Nevertheless, it was a mild sensation so unusual that it might well have been wrongly attributed to drugs or some other unsavory source.
"You are aboard the Civilian Class Colony Starship Stella Viventium." He said, using the 'old' name of the vessel which was usually not necessary even to newcomers. Really he was not entirely sure why he used the archaic term, since the notification he had received mentioned nothing about the girl's origins past having been recalled from databank memory.
But Rya would surely have recalled the name nonetheless - after all, the great Living Star had been one of the most incredible feats of engineering of her time. Granted, nobody really knew much about it, past that it was by far the largest spacefaring vessel ever created, and supposedly it would be the first to actually leave the Solar System - but that was a point of very much contemporary debate which occupied a whole lot of time over the networks and news stations. Nobody really knew how to get aboard the thing or when it was scheduled for completion - despite the scale of the operation, it had been very secretive and, admittedly, largely irrelevant to the everyday life of the average citizen of the System.
But since Doctor Nathans was entirely unaware that his new 'friend' could have possibly been from the mythical land of the Gods of War, he had no reason to suspect that the news of her location would all the more imply a possible kidnapping.
"More specifically, you're in the re-sleeving department. Usually, it's only used for when people are severely injured and require a new body, but your case is...different. How do I say this..."
He faltered again, having some considerable difficulty getting through the conversation.
"You...your consciousness has been...stored away in the Stella's databanks for some time now. I'm afraid I have no way of figuring out just how long. Recently, for...Well honestly I don't know why - but you were brought out of digital storage, your body was grown from blueprints of the original, and, well, here you are." The anticlimax of it was overwhelming. What else could he say, knowing virtually nothing about the situation? Regardless, his helpless voice was soft and soothing, even as he spoke words that might prove very alarming indeed. He hoped consciously that she wouldn't blow up on him, though acknowledged the unfortunate possibility.
"Oh, and the date is 3:1:7, 346,935." (That was to say, the third day of the first week of the seventh month of year 346,935. This dating system would, however, be mostly meaningless to Rya Valheimer and, in reality, many more than 346,935 years had passed since the Stella Viventium supposedly first left Earth. That being said, the large number would clearly implicate the incredible sum of time that had passed...)
Then, wanting to change the subject at least a little, he continued. "I know this might be rather...confusing. Believe me, I'm about as out-of-the-loop as you are. But a message was sent to me along with the alert that your process was complete that instructed you to be brought immediately and directly to the Captain, so I imagine that he will know more about all of this than I do. In the meantime, if you'd like to tell me what kind of clothing you'd like, I can have just about anything sent up within a few minutes...And if you'd come this way, we can go somewhere a little more comfortable to sit down for a few."
The unusual salute the woman gave did not seem to register with the dark-skinned man, who did briefly consider returning it just to make her feel better, but decided it wasn't worth further potential awkwardness. He did, however, extend a hand to help her out of the horizontal tank, if she do desired to take it.
"You're...Well I'll be honest with you, this might be a little difficult to explain." At least the large, open chamber held very little in the way of 'cover' that one might anticipate someone jumping out at them...Though the truly suspicious would always find something.
As she stood, Rya would find that despite the familiarity with the body she now inhabited, it still felt...off when she moved. Stiff, vaguely rubbery. though not intrusively or overwhelmingly so. Nevertheless, it was a mild sensation so unusual that it might well have been wrongly attributed to drugs or some other unsavory source.
"You are aboard the Civilian Class Colony Starship Stella Viventium." He said, using the 'old' name of the vessel which was usually not necessary even to newcomers. Really he was not entirely sure why he used the archaic term, since the notification he had received mentioned nothing about the girl's origins past having been recalled from databank memory.
But Rya would surely have recalled the name nonetheless - after all, the great Living Star had been one of the most incredible feats of engineering of her time. Granted, nobody really knew much about it, past that it was by far the largest spacefaring vessel ever created, and supposedly it would be the first to actually leave the Solar System - but that was a point of very much contemporary debate which occupied a whole lot of time over the networks and news stations. Nobody really knew how to get aboard the thing or when it was scheduled for completion - despite the scale of the operation, it had been very secretive and, admittedly, largely irrelevant to the everyday life of the average citizen of the System.
But since Doctor Nathans was entirely unaware that his new 'friend' could have possibly been from the mythical land of the Gods of War, he had no reason to suspect that the news of her location would all the more imply a possible kidnapping.
"More specifically, you're in the re-sleeving department. Usually, it's only used for when people are severely injured and require a new body, but your case is...different. How do I say this..."
He faltered again, having some considerable difficulty getting through the conversation.
"You...your consciousness has been...stored away in the Stella's databanks for some time now. I'm afraid I have no way of figuring out just how long. Recently, for...Well honestly I don't know why - but you were brought out of digital storage, your body was grown from blueprints of the original, and, well, here you are." The anticlimax of it was overwhelming. What else could he say, knowing virtually nothing about the situation? Regardless, his helpless voice was soft and soothing, even as he spoke words that might prove very alarming indeed. He hoped consciously that she wouldn't blow up on him, though acknowledged the unfortunate possibility.
"Oh, and the date is 3:1:7, 346,935." (That was to say, the third day of the first week of the seventh month of year 346,935. This dating system would, however, be mostly meaningless to Rya Valheimer and, in reality, many more than 346,935 years had passed since the Stella Viventium supposedly first left Earth. That being said, the large number would clearly implicate the incredible sum of time that had passed...)
Then, wanting to change the subject at least a little, he continued. "I know this might be rather...confusing. Believe me, I'm about as out-of-the-loop as you are. But a message was sent to me along with the alert that your process was complete that instructed you to be brought immediately and directly to the Captain, so I imagine that he will know more about all of this than I do. In the meantime, if you'd like to tell me what kind of clothing you'd like, I can have just about anything sent up within a few minutes...And if you'd come this way, we can go somewhere a little more comfortable to sit down for a few."
When she saw he hadn’t returned her salute, there was a touch of a smile on her face. She had a feeling that it would be inappropriate that he did return it. Taking the hand offered to her, and standing up, she noticed the feeling in her limbs, though mostly her legs.
She turned sideways, away from the doctor, and extended one arm, bending and moving it in an assortment of ways, until she seemed to get used to the weird sensation, and dropped her arm down to her side again.
Turning back to the doctor, she had smiled a bit more, though it was immediately gone when he named the ship.
That name.
“Stella Viventium,” It just was too familiar, and so she said it, hushed and in shock at how natural it was on her tongue, though it sounded hard to pronounce. It could’ve just been a coincidence that it had the exact same name as she ship being built during the.. During the what?
She couldn’t quite recall what had been going on during the construction.
Being a bit too lost in her mind, which seemed to be strangely blank at the moment, she missed the brief explanation given by the doctor, and only seemed to register it when he said a long, weird string of numbers, seeming to imply that it was a date, though it sounded nothing like what she was used to, save for the rising numbers in the set.
She deduced that it went day, week, month, year, just as hers had once upon a time, and, since she knew that there was an entirely different way of measuring time back home, she was either hopelessly far from Mars, or hopelessly far into the future.
She lifted a hand, and, as a test, touched a finger to the man’s shoulder. When it didn’t go into his body, revealing him as real, and not a hallucination or hologram, she had an internal meltdown, her eyes wide, and her hand shooting back against her chest.
Realizing he physically existed seemed to take her uneasiness, and turn it into full-on panic. And once you tacked on the waking up in an unfamiliar place, the strange feeling in her limbs, and some weird, hazy amnesia, one couldn’t blame her for her actions moments later.
She threw a punch. Gathering all her strength without moving, she pulled back, and aimed straight for his chest, where she knew Martian and human lungs should be, but she didn’t know about whatever this guy was. If it wasn’t successful, she’d keep going.
She’d explore the ship on her own while he recovered and attempted to find her. The prospect of being alone in this place made her smile, as she always felt better and more clear-headed when she was alone.
Though she was hoping he’d go down on the first hit, she knew he wouldn’t, and threw another, her fist landing roughly in the same place.
Once he was on the ground(which would probably take a while, depending on how much he fought, but she would get him down), she knelt, and searched him quickly. Any ID he had was taken, and then she ran off in a randomly chosen direction, searching for a door out of the 'Re-Sleeving Room'. When she found it, she opened it, leaning out of the room and cautiously peeking around herself. If there were people, she ducked back inside until they left, and when she decided all was clear, she stepped into the room, and went off, letting her gut guide her through the ship.
She hoped to soon find somebody who knew a bit more.
She turned sideways, away from the doctor, and extended one arm, bending and moving it in an assortment of ways, until she seemed to get used to the weird sensation, and dropped her arm down to her side again.
Turning back to the doctor, she had smiled a bit more, though it was immediately gone when he named the ship.
That name.
“Stella Viventium,” It just was too familiar, and so she said it, hushed and in shock at how natural it was on her tongue, though it sounded hard to pronounce. It could’ve just been a coincidence that it had the exact same name as she ship being built during the.. During the what?
She couldn’t quite recall what had been going on during the construction.
Being a bit too lost in her mind, which seemed to be strangely blank at the moment, she missed the brief explanation given by the doctor, and only seemed to register it when he said a long, weird string of numbers, seeming to imply that it was a date, though it sounded nothing like what she was used to, save for the rising numbers in the set.
She deduced that it went day, week, month, year, just as hers had once upon a time, and, since she knew that there was an entirely different way of measuring time back home, she was either hopelessly far from Mars, or hopelessly far into the future.
She lifted a hand, and, as a test, touched a finger to the man’s shoulder. When it didn’t go into his body, revealing him as real, and not a hallucination or hologram, she had an internal meltdown, her eyes wide, and her hand shooting back against her chest.
Realizing he physically existed seemed to take her uneasiness, and turn it into full-on panic. And once you tacked on the waking up in an unfamiliar place, the strange feeling in her limbs, and some weird, hazy amnesia, one couldn’t blame her for her actions moments later.
She threw a punch. Gathering all her strength without moving, she pulled back, and aimed straight for his chest, where she knew Martian and human lungs should be, but she didn’t know about whatever this guy was. If it wasn’t successful, she’d keep going.
She’d explore the ship on her own while he recovered and attempted to find her. The prospect of being alone in this place made her smile, as she always felt better and more clear-headed when she was alone.
Though she was hoping he’d go down on the first hit, she knew he wouldn’t, and threw another, her fist landing roughly in the same place.
Once he was on the ground(which would probably take a while, depending on how much he fought, but she would get him down), she knelt, and searched him quickly. Any ID he had was taken, and then she ran off in a randomly chosen direction, searching for a door out of the 'Re-Sleeving Room'. When she found it, she opened it, leaning out of the room and cautiously peeking around herself. If there were people, she ducked back inside until they left, and when she decided all was clear, she stepped into the room, and went off, letting her gut guide her through the ship.
She hoped to soon find somebody who knew a bit more.
Maldoon
Sitting on a branch in the tree's a blue humanoid slime wearing a large black raincoat and booties sat on admiring the view that it has up in the trees. Viewing the beautiful canopy and scenery of this planet. Of course, he was aslo admiring the new object in the sky...Independence. His boyish face looks at the ship wondering what it was doing here. It obivously wasn't an exploration ship, more of battleship from the guns that can be seen on it. It wonder what was on there, the crew, the tech, everything. For the slime...the ship was full of mystery's...so much better than these crappy birds on the ground pecking at the ground.
Soon one of the drones bump into the tree hard, shaking the tree and forcing the slime to loss his balance causing him to fall. He tumbled out of the tree, splattering little pieces of goo on the branches it hit as it finally landed on top of the drone. The slime held onto dear life, still shaken up from the fall from its expression on its face. Unsure where this robotic drone is going towards.
Sitting on a branch in the tree's a blue humanoid slime wearing a large black raincoat and booties sat on admiring the view that it has up in the trees. Viewing the beautiful canopy and scenery of this planet. Of course, he was aslo admiring the new object in the sky...Independence. His boyish face looks at the ship wondering what it was doing here. It obivously wasn't an exploration ship, more of battleship from the guns that can be seen on it. It wonder what was on there, the crew, the tech, everything. For the slime...the ship was full of mystery's...so much better than these crappy birds on the ground pecking at the ground.
Soon one of the drones bump into the tree hard, shaking the tree and forcing the slime to loss his balance causing him to fall. He tumbled out of the tree, splattering little pieces of goo on the branches it hit as it finally landed on top of the drone. The slime held onto dear life, still shaken up from the fall from its expression on its face. Unsure where this robotic drone is going towards.
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