The process of discovering where the Dark Horse could take shortcuts also revealed more of the structure of the special distortion within the Nidhoggr, along with the more conventional structure - since the technique was first testing to launch and retrieve more probes. This allowed for a much better map to be produced, which is now on the holo-table for everyone to see.
After using a lot of fancy math to massage the data, the anomaly appeared a cigar-shaped central body with spines radiating out from it: six around its midsection, with a ring of eight angled aft behind that, and a third row of five angled back even further. Only three spikes angled forwards, although a final one seemed to extend directly ahead. All of the spikes ended just inside the outer hull, so it's possible the hull acts to constrain them, or else was built around them.
"Mass detector readings are not-t-t clear enough to get better resolution from the Maelstrom," Moka explains. "Can gather no more detail than this blobby thing. Would not want to intersect any of it, though." An array of new data is applied, showing the safe places to 'surface' the airlocks or hangar nearest the likely target areas. "Can get pretty close to engine section. Bridge does not have very close spots. Unknown area has a few big passages though."
"Lets drop each team and have them linger at the pickup points until all teams are dispatched. We can then have the Horse surface somewhere safe and equidistant in case any team has a problem. Since the distances and travel times are uneven, any problems may arise unevenly as well, hopefully giving us more time to react. Transit to the bridge will probably take the most time, though I had hoped to reach it first and maybe get whatever systems that still work on our side before we reached the other regions. The main reason to split up is so that if one team fails to control a critical area, another may be able to do so. It's risky, but it also seperates our assets and prevents a large team from being stuck all in one place." Tasha scratches her brow as she leans back, eyeing the projection. "Each target can potentially exert a great deal of control on the vessel. We'll just have to hope we can subvert or charm one."
"I saw a magician in Abu Dhabi charm a Naga with a flute," Aaron offers.
"We don't have any flutes," Gabriel notes. "And the air out there has been cooked by radiation anyway."
"Besides we don't need to charm ours anyway, I think we can just ask him. At the very least he and Thoth seems to get on," Tasha notes, glancing over. She then blinks, barking a laugh -- a somewhat daintier and more musical laugh to match her new body. "You know, we somehow split the teams in to heaven, hell, and earth."
"Wait, are you saying I belong in Hell?" Yue asks.
"I distinctly recall a very official and respectable group of Terragens individuals refering to you as an 'imp'," Tasha replies, straightfaced. "And an imp is a low level demon, so welcome aboard. I'd also include Hake, but she's more demonic playtoy." The woman nods. matter-of-factly. "Well, shall we continue with our plans?"
Over the monitor, Kaa notes, "Remember, we can't get out of here quickly. We have to use the tentacle-tubes. So do not blow up the dreadnought."
"I don't think I've blown up a ship yet. Not directly? I'm very fond of ships." Tasha glances at those with her, all suited up and ready, and takes some time to inspect each of them. "We may each be on our own for a bit. Thoth, can you and the good Doctor handle a weapon, how are you both with technical tasks?"
"I have some technical experience," Thoth notes. "As for a weapon, it has been some time since I last used a sword."
"Yeah I've found sword aren't terribly useful in Galactic space and beyond, unless they're fourty feet tall," Tasha remarks with some sarcasim, much of it self-directed. "I do have one if you want to borrow it. You may even remember it since you might have sent it along with the Melchior."
"Swords are excellent for repelling boarders on a spacecraft, however," Thoth claims. "They penetrate people, but not hulls."
"Using them in freefall is a real skill though," Hera points out.
"Combat knives don't have the same drawbacks, since you can hold onto the enemy with one hand while thrusting," Gabriel adds.
"I'll defend them from alien monsters," Aaron promises.
"Well if you want mine Liza can fetch it." Tasha returns to evaluating, doesn't see anything amiss, then asks, "Well, are we ready to commence operations? The teams can split up and plan their routes now. There's no need for us to all know them, though they should be filed with the ship crew in case of emergency."
"Each group will have two drones, one to scout ahead and keep them on track, and one to follow from behind," Katie explains.
Tasha bobs her head, shifting her helmet from one arm to the other and her weight likewise to the other hip.
"Don't grab anything covered in muons with your new left glove," Modo advises Tasha, before checking his own helmet.
"And why is that?" Tasha asks, ears shooting up. "How do I avoid subatomic particles? Three eyes doesn't give me partcile-vision."
"Well, it would mean you're in a particle accelerator weapon," the ape explains. "So avoid standing in one of those."
"Don't stand in giant weapon. Check." Tasha makes a ticking off of a checklist motion with her free hand, then raises her eyebrows. "Sooo are we going to plot how to tease each other more, or shall we get started? Feet, foot, and paw shuffling undermines bravery, you know!"
"I'm not worried about things like that," Yue notes. "What are you worried about, Sam?"
"Being eaten," Samael responds.
"Inside the tubes or by our holeworm?" The not-hybrid inquires, head tilting.
"In general," Samael claims. "Plenty of things out here that would probably want to eat me. Well, eat me more than eat you."
"Yes you're a big shadowy gum-drop," Tasha insists, reaching over to pay the demon on the head. "If the big mean gobblers or the holeworm try and make you kibab, I'll be sure to save you. I'll be in a big metal man and it won't be the first giant monsterous Ogdru-hem driven thing I've skewered."
"And everyone be careful of the twisted spaces," Samael notes. "They can do more than make you dizzy."
Tasha nods to this, knowingly. "And how. Well, time's wasting and heat's building. Gabriel, if you would?"
"Bridge team to port airlock, engine team to starboard lock. Monster team to hangar. Prepare to get us into position, Mister Kaa," the big wolf instructs.
"Yessir mate sir." Tasha salutes, and does it properly, something Gabriel hasn't seen since the young woman's stint as a JEF cadet. What she is now is anyone's guess. "C'mon Demon Team, we can't let the others show us up or they'll be polite and respectful about it!"
There was an unexpected side effect of bringing Sam along. The amorphous nature of his body allowed him to blend in with Melchior's hull - which also meant he could be used to 'mount' the gauss rifle to the Gryphon's forearm. "You need to add another seat in here," Yue notes, from where she clings between the wings of Tasha's armor as the no-longer-hybrid straddles the pilot couch.
"Easily done." Tasha's command couch shifts, splitting form one seat to two, albiet on the cramped side of comfortable. When Yue has a seat, the morphable chair further redistributes its area to better accomidate both. "There we are," Tasha remarks without looking back, as she can see the cockpit just fine within her mind's electronic eye. "Starting engines, we'll be going atmospheric so be prepared for wind turbulance, Sam." She repeats the same as she says it, thinking the words and just broadcasting them externally be action of thought.
The corridor is very long and straight, but since there's no need to generate lift the Gryphon's wings can remain folded. The map provided to Tasha does point out why this was as close as they could be dropped off though: They're coming up almost parallel to one of the 'spine' distortions. "Not too fast now," Yue advises. "A little tap on the throttle now and then should do it."
"I take it being a Titan pilot is part of the Terragens Agent curriculum?" Tasha does so, but not because she needed to be told how to fly a Titan, or fly for that matter. "Let me know if you see anything in the distortion, Sam. I'll be keeping my eye peeled, as well."
Far there hasn't been anything 'visible' to Tasha's new sense, but she still doesn't know how close she needs to be. Sam is fairly clear, but he's only a few meters away.
"We're in freefall, in atmosphere," Yue explains. "The dynamics are a lot different from normal air or vacuum. Just be ready to grab onto the wall if you have to. This place gives me a headache."
As in the drone footage, the walls seems smooth and featureless, with no indication of what the purpose the shaft was. They haven't even encountered anything like writing yet.
Just to be safe Tasha gives the plotted region a bit of extra room; she knows the distortion has been stable thus far, but as Samael said: There are many things that might be interested in eating him. Whatever is at the core of the ship might be such a thing, and waving a snack in front of its spacial-distortion snout might just wake it up, or so Tasha believes.
"Yes ma'am. Right away ma'am. Would you like an inflight beverage, ma'am?" It's partially facecious, but no Vartan -- or ex-half Vartan -- takes well to being told how to fly by land dwellers. She has practiced in simulation and out, but she's also not a fool, and so heeds the advice.
"What beverages do you have in here?" Yue asks.. since she doesn't know if there is a beverage service in the Gryphon. "Sorry.. I'm feeling very uneasy. Have you ever seen.. well, not seen.. but experienced the 'blind spot' you get when trying look at hyperspace?"
"I've seen it a few times, it's the transitional point to higher dimensions, isn't it? It's nature is different depending on the type of FTL used, but a few of have one, like Maelstrom. I've seen a Titanian drive produce a similiar effect." Tasha sounds distracted because she is. She may be connected to a sentient AI processing most of the data, but for the most part she's still the one in control and chosing course. The Melchior can override her in the event of a problem, but good tactics won't save her from a bad strategy. "I haven't really stared at it, though. The Titanians told me not to, and I tend to believe them. What exactly is it, if it's not a transition?"
"It's our brains being unable to process what the eyes are seeing," Yue explains. "See, we all have a blind spot in our vision, where the optic nerve connects to the eyeball. It's pretty consistent across species too. That area detects no light. But by moving our eyeballs constantly, the brain fills in that spot. It simulates what it expects to be there. Hyperspace is a weird place though. The mass detector works as a psionic device there, but not in normal space. And the brain just pulls in the edges to hide the view. But.. that's what I'm feeling now, in a psychic sense. The edges pulling in to cover up what I can't process."
"Does it feel like there is something to process? Or like a nothingness? Like flat space? Completely flat, like back on Praxxafalopus?" Tasha frowns at both possibilities. The flattening of space, the complete flattening, is the formatting of the soul. There is nothing to see, no data to recieve. It is a region of neutral, unchanging data, with nothing to distinguish it. Yet, that there may be something so strange that the mortal mind can not only not see it, but not lie about the fact, yet still is unable to dismiss it something is present. Tasha knows the mind can conceal much, and fake a great deal more; what is it that it sees that no recourse is left to it, yet the presence of something can still be percieved? Is it something natural to the real universe? Nearby, foreign yet familiar? An analogue? Or beyond all reasoning, visible because there is no lie, truth, or in between that can ever relate to it? Perhaps, it cannot be related to at all? Beyond all reason.
"You mean an exaggerated version of what we went through coming here?" Yue asks. "I'm not sure. It's.. like a wall that pulls on you."
"A wall that pulls on you?" Tasha considers, where has she felt something like that before? Her frown deepens. "Pulls ... but not physically? At your mind and something deeper than your mind?" She doesn't remember the curious ring structure in the Titanic as being like a wall, but considers everyone's experience of such things may be different. "I once explored an old, old Titanian ship with a set of rings, deep in its structure. The rings pulled on the mind, and I almost have it, because I didn't know any better. I thought it was trying to talk to me. Those rings format the mind, the soul. It's some sort of drive mechanisim that flattens space, but its process tugs on the mind." The red woman pauses, wondering if she should add to the terror by providing an insight, deciding detail may save them all. "Demons also can draw in the soul, that region of space, but their method is something other than flattening. Do not give in to the pull."
"That's like saying 'don't stand under the sky'," Yue claims. "I can't just turn it off. It's there. And it feels like standing with a breeze to my back, in a sense. I'm still inside of my own head. Maybe weather is a better analogy. Hmmm. Standing on the beach, looking at a calm sea, but with the wind at your back."
"Do you want to go back?" Tasha asks after a moment to consider. "You don't have to go any farther, Sam and I can go alone. The pull will only get stronger as we progress."
"Then you probably need me as a warning system, if you're not feeling the same thing," Yue points out. "Sam? Can you hear us?"
"Of course," Samael says over the radio channel, despite not having a radio. "Dr. Sen has a point, Tasha. I would not sense what she is, since I don't have anything that would feel such a pull. She is also far more sensitive than you, so could give better warning before you felt anything."
"I'm just worried about what happens to the canary," the pilot notes, sounding uneasy. "If things get too bad, we'll pull back. That's for anyone. If we cannot pull back, well, we'll think of something. For now we'll press on. Lets keep in communication, if anything changes, please remark on it everyone."
Nothing seems to change though, as far as what Yue calls 'the weather' - but they are closing in on the supposed 'body' of whatever is at the heart of the ship. But then the corridor ends (or continues) into a darkness that Melchior's lights, lidar and radar can't penetrate. The surface does ripple slightly however, in odd patterns.
The machine slows to a halt before the darkness, pushing off surfaces to until it is hovering just above the deck below its feet, still. "So," she begins, flipping through sensors in her mind. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, and also nothing. "I can't push the sensors past whatever that is. All I can tell about it is its blocking everything, appears to be rippling, and is not emitting light. It might be the body of the core target, or some sort of containment or emergency shield, but if it's the latter too I don't know what could stilll be powering it."
"It's the wall, or ocean.. I can't feel past it," Yue says. "But the surface feels.. not blank."
"It is an event horizon, which likely makes up the bulk of an Ogdru-hem," Samael offers.
"Not blank? Can you give more details?" Tasha frowns at the surface now, though it appears impenetrable to anxious doubt just as much as it is to sensors. "So you think it's the outter body of an Ogdru-hem? I the Urgo-hem might have been made of something like this, but we only got close to him once, and by that point all measurement was impossible. Well, what happens if we enter its personal space, it's threshhold, Sam? I've spoken to them before, but usually at a distance."
"I don't know," the demon admits. "This thing isn't a drive system, but is most likely a weapon. The distortions and efforts to keep it from reaching Lukthu-hem hint at a gravity spirit type. It may be a living black hole."
"Well that's new." Tasha leans back, tapping her chin and somehow managing. She stares forward, but to Yue she just seems to be staring at a wall. "Well, we have to make a decision: Try and walk in to a living black hole, or report what we've found and withdraw. We could sacrifice a probe before we decide."
"That is what probes are for," Yue suggests.
"It'll be harder for us if we need to backtrack without them and the distortion shifts, but you're right." Tasha brings up the probe command control through her mental connection selecting the forward probe and directing it one meter in to the event horizon where it will perform a full sweep and return. She adds a emergency protocol to return immediately should it lose sensors or begin to suffer critical systems damage. "Good luck little guy."
And so off the probe goes.
All transmissions cease when it enters the blackness, but it does come back out again. The surface is covered in scratches and it trails a streamer of what looks suspiciously like blood behind it. The telemetry link comes back as well, indicating that the onboard memory is full.
"I give it ... lets say seventy percent that data is either a message, an attempt to subvert us, or both and not sensory data," Tasha muses, trying to make light of the fact the probe is covered in blood, her way of showing leadership through irreverence. Mel, get ready. You might want to partition off the process that handles the probe's data store. It may not be any more comprehensible to you than us. If it seems empty, purge all of it immediately.
"I contains data I do not understand," Mel explains. But in Tasha's virtual interface, there is a clear message. She's seeing the simulation interface, with the 'blank' entry being highlighted. Horus isn't supposed to have control over the interface, however.
"I'm not feeling anything from the probe, so.. I don't think there's a mind hiding in it," Yue says.
"Alright, it definitely a contact attempt. Whatever's in there has either got the notice of Mel's undisclosed subsystem or else is trying to use it to communicate with me. Yue," and so Tasha actually looks back despite always being able to see Yue in the many windows open before her mind's eye, " ... if I start piloting the Titan in strange ways or do something else that's, well, you know what to look for. There are sedatives ... " A seemless hatch opens in the amorphus seating, " ... there, just stick me with them until I'm out. Mel shouldn't be able to stop you in here without harming me as well. Sam, maybe get clear?"
"I would prefer to stay close," Samael replies. "If this is one of my master's pets, I should not be in danger. If it is otherwise, there is no distance I can reach within the confines of this ship that would be any safer."
"That pretty much goes for all of us," Yue says. "Better contact the Dark Horse as well." She does take the sedative injector though while she can.
"I guess it is hard to dodge a black hole, especially when you're only several meters away from it. I'll contact the DH now and set the probe to move to a safe distance and turn its focus on us." New menus come to the fore, communications and pre-arranged emergency message creation systems. The beauty of direct mind control means Tasha can compose the messages much faster than she could speak them, soon all three are ready.
The first is the actual notification, kept short to avoid problems with signal degradation. "Demon Team, report arrival target surface, SAM ID as event horizon - Ogdru-hem surface, probe sent, probe return, data store likely contact info, preparing to contact, proceed on go ahead signal."
The second is for the Melchior's AI to handle in case Tasha herself is controlled but he is not, to warn Yue, Samael, and the Dark Horse of the situation and to assume the worst if no further signal arrives. She also orders her machine to subdue her, should it believe that is justified.
The final message is simply an automated message directly attached to the communications subsystems themselves, and so seperated from both her and the AI: It is a keep alive signal, a constant pulse for location providing basic activity information like moving, pilot OK, AI active, and little else, much of it abbreviated.
"So, tell me when I need to start watching for twitches or vomiting pea soup," Yue says.
"It may happen very quickly." Even as she says so, Tasha scoots her chair to an angle where she can't whip around and strike Yue easily, but Yue could reach her first. "This will be assisted by, well, a very old and maybe not Khatten whole-brain emulation system, something much more sophisticated than a PersoCom device. I'll probably be in accelerated time. But to warn you ... " The young woman lays back, closes her eyes and sets systems and stationkeeping to auto, and counts, "Three ... two ... one ... Initiate."
The white plane appears, and Horus is right there in front of Tasha. "Tell me what you have found," he says in a tone that isn't exactly commanding, but does carry enough presence that Tasha can understand exactly why he was worshipped as a god.
Tasha leans back a little, brows up, taken in by the force of the not-quite-demand and surprised to hear it. She blinks a moment, then realizes she's given ground and so pulls in a breath and straightens. Rather than counter with her usual irreverence she takes this change as a sign of concern and reports clearly and without manuvering. "What appears to be the starship Nidhoggr, suspected Thennenin-make. At its core is an unknown being that may be a Ogdru-hem, we cannot penetrate the event-horizon surface infront of us. We sent in a probe and it has returned with the data you seem to have just analyzed and had assumed it was an attempt at contact."
"A ship," Horus says, and seems to relax.. or at list become less imposing.. at least slightly. "We are still in the ancient battle zone?" he asks.
"Yes. This one was covered drones, even after the death of Luk'thu-hem. For whatever reason, she chose to capture or contain this vessel rather than destroy it even after ages performing self-repair, she either couldn't release or was waiting to release it. Whatever it is, she took special care with it, and that's why we came to attempt to see why -- and perhaps recover it for use." Tasha glances around; having your species -- even ex-species -- god staring you down is not comfortable in the slightest, it makes her feel blasphemous and lacking, much like when she first met Gabriel. "We are hovering beyond the event horizon of the core." She thinks she already said that. "That is, we are trying to find a way to proceed, forward or back. Do you know what the probe contained, Horus?"
"Yes, I do," Horus claims. "These weaponized monsters must not be used. The 'data' in your probe makes it clear why. And why I abandoned my duty."
Tasha starts to ask why, but she finds she knows why and has for some time. That she has known the basics if not the details for so long blinded her to realizing it at first, as she hadn't expected the matter to crop up again. She hadn't expected to find such a weapon, she had assumed it was all just theory. Her voice is low when she asks, "It's some sort of ... soul cannon, it's it?"
"You found no traces of the crew of this ship, have you?" Horus replies. "The only traces you will find are in the probe data. They are the fuel source. The weapon has been primed but not fired. You have a decision to make."
"Are you saying the crew is in there? In ... us?" Tasha runs a hand back through her hair and damn her hairstyle, she then exhales because one gesture really isn't enough. The Thennenin were though to be extinct, she now holds the last vestiges of their entire people, the precursors to the entire Celestial Empire. If the ship is priceless, what, then, is what she holds? "Fire the gun ... or ... keep the data?"
"Not exactly," Horus says. "There is no good choice. Nothing will recover them. I tell you this, so that you do not have to experience what is in the probe."
"It's not pleasant, ... is it." Tasha already knows, and the more she begins to consider it the more she knows. She finds her hands grasphing her head before she realizes it, panting in strong, self-calming breathes. "Don't tell me anymore. I know. What are my choices."
"Discharge it, and bring an end to what existence they suffer, or walk away from it before you know too much more," the old god claims. "You know what my choice was, but I chose before the weapon could be loaded."
"Even if we leave, the weapon will remain. There are others. There is this ... neutron star matter that converts all other matter in to itself. And this is just what we've found exploring just a fraction of what is here." Tasha holds up her hand and above it the basic data for their exploration expands in to the space above their heads. "If any Galactic located this place, and if they could use it, it could mean genocide. Extinction, without the Ogdru-hem or the Sifra or Thotep or anyone else but us. I could tell the Titanians ... But, even they sometimes use the weapons they find."
The Nidhoggr's relation to the debris field is shown, with all know vessels highlighted. "Can this weapon annhilate this fleet?"
"If it was brought to destroy the mother of monsters, it probably could, depending on how it is used," Horus notes. "If it can be used. Thotep would require a servitor operator, or else some sort of artifact that could control it in a limited fashion. It is unlikely that those who brought it here knew what it would cost to use."
"That does sound like Thotep. Samael is outside. I-" Tasha jerks, frowning and staring in to the distance as she changes tracks and says, "This is very convienent. I'm given control of that ship, to find Sam and now I'm here in this ship before this weapon with someone who can probably fire it. Why? What good does it do, now? What's strategy, am I intended to fire it or not fire it? Or does it even matter is just getting us right here, right now, enough? We've seen all the evidence Thotep set this all up, so did it happen how he wanted? Or did he want the fleet to die? I kill Luk'thu-hem with a child, and now I without the child kill the fleet. Death by the smallest cut for everyone."
"My advice is to not base your decisions on whether you think you are being used as a pawn by some ineffable power," Horus says. "Use only your own judgment. Such decisions are already hard enough without adding more existential weight to them. However, Thotep was not active in the time the Vril-ya tried to shepherd the new sapients of this galaxy. He may well be truly imprisoned, or otherwise unable to act directly. He may even be vulnerable. The old gods do not walk boldly through the dark places as they once did. It may well be that he wishes to erase such obvious references to him as this fleet represents."
"Do you think ... I could use it on him?" Tasha's eyes widen; she fights the urge to look around, fearing, on some level, he is listening. Luk'thu-hem was one thing, Thotep is another entirely. A god. She remembers his citadel, and now she must fight shivering, too. "I'll take this ship with us, to his Citadel, and ... It must be a gate. He doesn't exist at one point. If we could follow the gate higher, and higher, it must link to him somewhere. To all of him. We could do it ourselves. No, he'd notice through Samael ... Sam is the key. If I could control Samael, fool him, we could go to that place ... And we could try to end him. And by ending Thotep, free Samael, free the Horse. Free everyone. Thoth would approve ... Hastur would, too."
"Do you think Thotep would create a weapon that could be used against him?" Horus asks, but not in an 'the answer is obvious way', but as a genuine question. "He is not like the Ogdoad or Ogdru-hem. He does not devour souls. He is like a concept. What you call a Memetic Being, or a Fundamental in that sense. To do as you suggest may destroy the universes he is connected to."
"He .... " Tasha's expression goes through several changes as she tries to suss out just what a god so pervasive as to be fundamental, a pillar upon which the universe might rest, would do. She may as well try and second guess the Null or Consumption. Yet, the more she tries to dismiss it as rediculous and impossible, the more she realizes the answer may very well be in their in nature, they are fundamental, fixed, the axis upon which concept rests. They cannot be other than what they essentially are, she decides, and assuming she knows what that is -- something she's not certain of -- then their behavior must always depend on that truth, just as she can only be what she is.
"He ... he would, wouldn't he? The death of a thousand cuts, destroying a god in the most humiliating way, tricking a people in to feeding their very lives and souls in a futile cause -- even if they win they're all gone. He's been restricted, but for someone like him it must make his succes so much better. He has so much less power, yet he still wins. It's more delicious, smaller, more humiliating. If I, someone who tried to save everything see everything, had the trust of maybe even the Null in good faith took his weapon and killed him, destroying all, well, doesn't he win, in the end? And he would have done it from a cage, using just one wandering mortal who makes friends."
"Remember that Thotep himself is still only an agent," Horus reminds. "A servitor of the primal chaos.. although its chief servitor. Atum is a servitor of Vril, and I was a servitor of Atum. Although, not a slave."
"There is a bigger one?" Tasha just throws up her hands. For a moment it's all just too much. She walks off, wandering in a circle and rubbing her face, head shaking. When she drags her hands off her cheeks and looks up, her eyes are wide, ears up, and she looks a little lost. "Who is it?"
"Primal Chaos is a good description, although there are likely millions of names," Horus says. "It may be the original source of everything. And also the end of everything. Its nature seems to preclude the notion of intent or awareness, however."
Tasha seems to consider this, muzzle working, and then she asks, "If it precludes intent or awareness, how do you know Thotep is its chief minion? Do people just take him at his word ... " The young woman snorts at this; she can picture Samael laughing as well, " ... or is there some sort of test to find out who is its chief minion? And if it created everything, wouldn't everyone be its minion?" She perks her ears for answers.
"These terms are approximations," Horus says apologetically. "The relationships are more complicated. Perhaps a more personal metaphor would be clearer: you learned how to use a whip, didn't you?"
"From a mentor, yes. He was very grumpy and glad to be rid of me," Tasha answers, head cocking to the side. She frowns a little, too. "I feel bad about that and I kind of miss him, sometimes."
"Once you had mastered it, did you have to think about what you wanted to do with it, or did you just let your hand itself deal with the execution of your will?" Horus asks.
"So Thotep is kind of like Primal Chaos's /whip/? Or /hand. And I guess we're like ... cells ... or molecules. Quantum effects. And it created everything, so ... It's whipping ... /itself/." Tasha's face scrunches up, ears askew. "Suddenly I can /kind of/ identify with it."
"I was going for the notion that you can imbue parts of yourself with their own sort of intelligence," Horus notes. "That is how the Vril created Atum. Atum is tiny compared to the Vril, but purpose made to interact with the realities outside of the Vril. It is unclear if the Vril did that as a considered action, or as a reflex."
"Or sneezing or giggling?" Tasha's brows go up. "I wouldn't blame Vril for either, mortals and chaos can be a little much sometimes. Like right now I'm trying really hard not to think too much about what's right next to me outside this simulation, even if I already know exactly what it is I'm trying not to think about." And so she shivers. "But okay, Thotep is the buggest autonomous chunk of an otherwise senseless being."
"More or less," Horus agrees. "Or to put it another way: it doesn't take intelligence as you would understand it to sneeze out a god if you're big enough."
"When you're powerful, everything you do is a gesture of power? Move worlds by scratching your nose." And so Tasha csratches her nose, not as a gesture but simply out of habit as the topic came up. "A shame he couldn't have been more pleasant. And if he's destroyed, a major chunk of reality crumbles, too."
"You are bound to another now anyway," Horus points out. "Or have you moved on from the King in Yellow already?"
"You know I didn't exactly ask tobe claimed by any of these beings, it just sort of happened. There wasn't a demon-god menu I looked over at some point." Tasha gives Thoth a look, hand on hip. "Besides Hastur would be very amused if I destroyed Thotep, I think. They're rivals. He stole me away. And really, I don't dislike Hastur, he's been good to me, personally."
"Thotep was good to you at first, wasn't he?" Horus asks. "He gave you the key to a powerful weapon, simply to see it used I imagine."
"Well, that is so. I just can't get behind anyone who does that to the beings that believe in you. God, mortals, demon, robot, space whale, it doens't matter," Tasha notes, arms and hands spreading. "And yes I know Hastur might use and abuse me in the end, but I can't exactly pick and chose what godlike entities take an interest in me. They do what they want."
"Or you do what they want," Horus claims. "Likely because you were going to do it anyway. Only now you would be doing it and thinking that you are serving them instead of yourself."
Tasha frowns at that. "I'm still doing it because I want to do it. I like to think we both gain, isn't that what alliances are? Mutual gain? I mean," and here she gestures towards Horus, " ... we could say the same of you and me, or Atum and I. Atum can't even deliver what I asked for anymore, I recieved it from Persephone for helping Charon."
"I do have concerns over your alliance with Hastur," Horus claims. "Thotep did not grant you a favor. He asked for one, and you granted it, and so were rewarded. But you owe Hastur, possibly two times over now."
Tasha wrinkles her muzzle. "There is that. He did save me and my family -- my whole crew -- from gormlessly wandering the universe wondering why everything was different. Effectively, we didn't exist anymore as we knew it. That was, in a sense, the temporary and complete destruction of the crew. I can't and won't be ungrateful for the help." She inhales now, deeply, walking off in a slow circles asher arms sway at her sides, "I always knew something like this might happen, that some god or other woukd use them as my weakness, or we'd need help and Id have to pay something awful. I just hope it's an awful I can stomach."
"The current awful you must deal with is unlikely to be something you can stomach," Horus notes. "Somewhere nearby there should be a servitor that is the key to this weapon. You must decide on what to do with it."
"Shoot souls at space fleet or leave souls to eternal torment," Tasha says in a strained, trying-too-hard-to-be-non-chalante manner, "Reward, horribly exciting explosion or horribly horrible silence. Wait a million years for the Galactics to find all of this, then kill themselves. Destroy it, and all evidence of this travesty goes away, too. If I keep records, maybe Thotep will then also get rid of me. I think I will anyway, just to see what he'll do. If he pushes harder than I can take, I can always give in."
"So, you will destroy this graveyard and the weapon?" Horus asks.
"Do you have a better idea?" Tasha replies, stopping in her pacing to look back. "It seems kindest for those lost souls. I don't know what else to do here or how to help them, unless you think my possibly non-existant demon powers, or something else I have would make a difference? Would Blue or Yellow?"
"Nothing can restore the old crew from the condition they are now in," Horus claims. "I cannot help you decide beyond telling you the situation."
"Do you think Persephone could have?" Tasha wonders aloud, turning to Horus completely now. "She put me back together."
"You were a single fractured entity, not ten-thousand who have been digesting and melting together for a million years," Horus points out.
"That ... That is a lot harder," Tasha stammers, lamely. She runs a hand back through her hair, then fluffs up her mane because the hair just wasn't enough. At length she exhales sharply and spreads her hands. "I've done what I can think of to do, then. I'm sorry Thennenin."
"Then I have no more advice to give you," Horus says, "other than a reminder not to let anyone see the information in the probe. Delete it from the Gryphon's memory as well."
"I should know. I don't have to view it, but I should know what's inside it. Gods, responsibility is cruel sometimes." Tasha summons a chair, then plants herself down on it, puts her head on her hands, and stares at Horus. "I won't let anyone say I didn't investigate and that I was too afraid to know. I am afraid. I think I know. But for the Thennenin and for using something as horrible as this device is, I should know."
"There is a limit to how much pain a mind can accept before it succumbs to insanity," Hastur warns. "The probe contains pain. The pain of dying souls, burning together into a mass with no identity left. Everything has burned away save for the sense of what was lost."
"Is that what the Null is?" Tasha asks, eyes wide, voice low.
"I cannot imagine the scale of things at that level," Horus notes. "There are other things that can burn souls. I suspect it would be a mix of hot conglomerations and cold scattered fragments along with a vague sense of loss."
"So just a churning mass of old memories and loss? No more personalities, just ... the leftovers. Memetic, I suppose. The raw meme of pain and loss, with chunks of memory, like ... " Tasha doesn't say stew, lest she ruin stew for herself forever more. "What about the weapon? You said there was mroe than one, how do I destroy the weapons if I find them? They're like ... Someone said they're like artificial Ogdru-hem. Demon-machines."
"I know the location of one of them," Horus notes. "Unarmed. This battle has been going on since the beginning of life in this reality. We know of three of these weapons between us. There must be more, some powered by Ogrdu-hem, some likely used by Ogdru-hem are are Ogdru-hem. The Sifra likely created some as well, in their experiments. The Cill would know where they all where, probably."
"This one, the one you were involved with, and the Dark Horse?" Tasha confirms, not wanting to miss vital information while she can still stomache it all.
Horus nods. "The weapon I would not use," he confirms.
Tasha holds up a hand. "Before I ask and you tell me you don't want to tell me where it is, lets deal with the one infront of us. I need to get this done before I lose the nerve to do it. We can work out how to destroy the other one later." Tasha rises and the chair vanishes. She quite nearly vanishes as well, but then has a thought. A weird and uncomfortable though, but comfortable answers seem to have no place in these difficulties. "Sam said I might be able to ... you know." She points at her muzzle. "Do you think I could ... that ... to something like ... the weapon? It's an artificial demon, isn't? Couldn't a demon burn something like this out of existance? Except a real demon would never surrender so much power."
"I'm not sure what you mean," Horus claims, and leans in to look at Tasha's muzzle closer.
Tasha goes a little crosseyed, leaning back and fluttering her wings in alarm. "EAT SOULS," she blurts out, equally in alarm, "IT'S LIKE A BIG SOUL SO EAT IT."
"You cannot eat souls," Horus notes. "Because you have one."
"No room?" Tasha asks, though she sounds visible relived. She's willing to do a lot to see her mission through and avoid using the tools of the devil, possibly quite literally the devil and possibly more than one. But if she doens't have to or can't, well, she tried didn't she? Guiltless freedom.
"The Vril-ya and certain other 'immortal' beings lack souls as well," Horus explains. "Only mortals have true souls."
"Records in a universal space tied to the universe itself, isn't that what they are? Recursion," Tasha inquires, ears swiveling forward.
"In a sense, yes," Horus says. "In another sense, no. The fabric of space time and quantum fields is rather convoluted."
"So what are they?" Tasha presses, leaning in herself now.
"Convoluted and poorly understood by the Vril-ya, much like mortals themselves," Horus claims.
"Maybe I should ask Persephone, if she'll talk to me again. Come to think of it," head tilt, " ... she did give me her Marker. Doesn't that mean she's claimed me, as well? I'm probably much safer working with her than most other powers."
"The Waybuilders are not known to have agents that they do not create themselves," Horus says, but doesn't follow up further on that thread. "But there is nothing in the mythology about markers. These things originated with the Vril-ya, as part of our end-of-life."
"You died and became business cards?" The young woman has to cover her muzzle, she knows laughing is extremely inappropriate but Horus (and his son) can be so stiff. It also may be her laughter is partially from cracking under the pressure of the truly awful. She isn't sure, but suspects both.
Horus raises a feathered eyebrow at this. "Unique heirlooms representing the infancy and nurturing of sapient species," he corrects. "You generally have more than one copy of a business card."
Tasha holds up her hands in a placating, don't-smite-me manner, "Okay, okay! I cou;dn't help it, and can you blame me for laughing? I just died, now I have to deal with the universe's most awful gun. I really to care for and respect the Markers. I even have one now, which I suppose represents me. It's very nice." The young woman even holds up her hand where the sapphire Marker appears, complete with it's trifurcated design.
"That is the one Persephone gave you?" Horus asks, focusing his predatory eyes on it.
Tasha almost says "don't peck it," but decides she might really get smoten. And as they're in a simulation, or talking soul-to-soul, she isn't up for being smoten in the brain or soul. "Yes, she said it'd become a tradition. This makes the fifth Marker."
"The others contain pieces of their creators," Horus points out. "But the Waybuilders are flesh-and-blood beings. Are you certain it doesn't contain your original soul, or the leftovers from you being rebuilt?"
"Like a souvineer bag?" Tasha asks, turning to regard the projection with a frown. "I know it's Blue, but I had always assumed it contained a piece of Persephone, and a means to contact her. She said when I reach the site of the Ogdoad, to use it."
"She wants you to bring it to Erebus, in the center of the galaxy?" Horus asks, sounding surprised. "Perhaps she meant you to pass it along to any descendants then. Even the Vril-ya did not venture that deep, and we visited many galaxies. There was no life there, so we were not interested."
"She said not to look when I activate it, that I would be lost, too." Tasha frowns, then glances back at Horus. "I'm not exactly sure how my reproduction works, I'm not sure I have descendants like a Galactic might. The males are supposed to like their father, but the females are, well, something like a copy of me."
"Hopefully they will accumulate wisdom," Horus offers. "So, it is a beacon then. Or a dinner bell."
"That's a jab for my calling your graves business cards, isn't it." Tasha makes the icon vanish, then decides to go with her gut and prod Horus in the chest. "And it's weird people keep handing me graves and that your graves became fashionable. I am going to go shoot that awful thing and get the hell out of this awful place, now, and then go on vacation. We can talk more after that."
"I will be waiting patiently," Horus claims. Only this time he didn't, he practically summoned Tasha.
"Vartans make so much sense now," Tasha mumbles as she vanishes back to the real world, such as it is.
Back in the so-called real world, Tasha opens her eyes to see Yue in her lap, syringe poised and ready to stab her in the neck.
Tasha answers this by leaning over to try and smooch-lick Yue, it's the best way to show she's herself that she can think of in the split second before being stabbed.
"You didn't need to lick me," Yue notes, putting the syringe back into its case. "I can tell if you are harboring violent thoughts, after all."
"I panicked," Tasha half-truths. She wiggles in to get comfortable, fluffs her mane, and settles back in. "New plan: I'm asking Gabriel to withdraw all the teams. We don't want this ship. Before we leave I need to find a being, someone or something like Samael, so I can shoot this horrible device and rid the universe of this old battlefield. Then, we're leaving."
"Captain Akkers called while you were under," Yue notes. "His team found something on the bridge."
"Is it demony?" Tasha prompts, but is already making the necessary communications. "Tasha to Gabriel. I had a long talk with god, and he explained exactly what this device is and what this ship is for. Yue tells me you found something, would it happen to be a demonic servitor?"
"It's an ugly piece of pottery," Gabriel replies, and sends Tasha an image of a black jug or vase, with an opening at the top and sharp spines sticking out from the surface. "It's the only thing here. Lots of curved surfaces that look like they should be control stations, but as blank and featureless as the walls. Hearing similar from the engine team."
"The crew is gone," Tasha says with certainty, not to mention finality. "Whatever is left here is just regret and sorrow. I changed my mind, I don't want this ship, anymore. I am coming to the bridge, please order all other teams to return. I am going to ready the weapon to fire, and then we're leaving."
"Fire it? What does it do? What's the minimum safe distance?" Gabriel asks. "It will take us time to get out of the hull, remember."
"Can it be fired remotely once we're away? This thing isn't attached to anything," Gabriel adds.
"I'll do what I can to make sure we're out of range," Tasha promises. She then glances back at Yue before saying, "Sam, Yue, we're heading back. Sam, I'll need you with me, Yue, you can stay on the ship or come as well. We need to reach the bridge." The Titan turns away from the wall of rippling black with a kick of its left foot, then as it glides away it looks down, seeming to incline its head to the probe, before the talons on the hand heat up and incinerate the device. "It's an anti-Ogdru-hem superweapon. I don't want to say how it works over open air. We're retunring now, can we meet you?" A moment later and, "Mel, scrub all information obtained from the probe."
"I'm not sure, but bring it with you anyway and we'll check in on the Horse," Tasha responds as the Titan picks up speed.
It takes time for everyone to return to their collection points, but eventually the crew is recovered. The ugly jar (which Kaa dubs 'The Hollowed Cucumber Urchin' because it resembles some Terran sea creatures) sits atop the tactical table in the rear of the bridge. Samael and Amuntaten are at opposite ends of the table from one another, and the old bird looks unhappy.
"I don't know what it's made of," Hera announces after using her various instruments on the thing.
"Not exactly what I expected, hut I guess this is the control," Tasha remarks as she walks around the table and peers at the odd device. or contraption. Or being. "It's going to be Shadow-style manufacture, and I'm fairly sure we know which Outter god made or subverted it. What I don't know it how it works, or even how to get its attention."
After leaning in to peer at the thing a moment, Tasha barks, "Hello servitor. The weapon is loaded. I would like to firing preperation."
"It is a jar," Samael points out.. literally pointing to the open mouth of it. "But not so different from myself, just less animate. You need to put something into it."
"But what sort of something?" Tasha does, however, lean away from it. "And how awful is that something?"
"But not here," Amuntaten insists. "Not near the weapon itself."
"Yes lets not fire the superweapon right next to ourselves. Gabriel?" Tasha looks to her mate to handle his ship.
"Get us out of here, Mr. Kaa," Gabriel says, and frowns as well. "Sam, will this thing react to travel through that fractal spacetime tunnel we need to take?"
"It didn't bother me," the demon claims. "But I'm not familiar with this jar, so I can't say it would be harmless. The drones may have been suppressing its function all this time.. or forcing the weapon to do something else, if it is Ogdru-hem. A medium-sized one could resist its mother's control, after all."
"This is by far the worst jar I've ever had to deal with," Tasha remarks, mainly because her other thoughts on the mater would have been even worse, posisbly morale-impacting. "But if we leave all these weapons laying around, we can't rule out a future genocide. Or worse. This is the only means we have to eliminate it all in one shot, or else trust the Titanians."
"They have enough super weapons," Hera claims.
"Evil mystery jar it is. You heard the Captain, Kaa." Tasha then waves everyone away from the container, standing slightly closer along side Samael.
It becomes apparent when they enter the 'tentacle subway', as the ship begins to shake and everything seems to have odd after-images. But the jar is the one thing that seems stable and unaffected (although Sam could just be faking being affected like the rest of them). When they final exit the drone into clear space, some of them have swapped positions around the table.. but that's worst of it. At least everyone is still the same gender this time, and presumably has the same memories.
To try and lighten the mood, Tasha pats herself down and remarks, "Still me, ruff still fluffy, not dead, I am over here now, no penis ... Anyone dead or have a penis? That they shouldn't have." And so she looks around. It's crude, but times like this call for desperate measures.
"I will still need to borrow one on occasion," Hakeber claims.
"Hake's still Hake," Tasha confirms. "Everyone themselves? Anyone also Hake?"
Professor Stanislav discretely turns his back to everyone and checks. He doesn't claim that anything is amiss when he turns back.
"Still pregnant," Liza reports.
"I'll have to check if the coffee has all turned into wine," Aaron notes, in a matter-of-fact, this-has-happened-before-don't-question-me tone.
"That's caused by another evil on the ship, Aaron. But we're used to him. Mostly. We should still move away from the region." Tasha turns to Samael and asks, "Do you have any idea what the range is for a weapon like this? Or the effect?"
"I'm only familiar with the one that I'm part of," Samael claims. "The jar should know though."
He then turns towards Tasha and asks, "Did you want me to try and talk to it?"
"Are you the only one who can talk to it?" Tasha replies, ears perking up.
"I imagine it needed to be able to communicate with the operator," Samael says. "The opening is probably for sticking a hand into. I don't know if it would come back out though."
"I did just get my hand, and you're amorphus while the rest of us are mostly solid. Go ahead, Sam." Tasha nods to the jar.
So the not-quite-Tasha lookalike jams his left hand into the jar. "Hmmm," Sam goes, then remains silent for a few moments without changing his expression. Finally, he pulls his hand back out. "Interesting," he notes.
Tasha folds her arms. "It won't talk to you, will it," she deadpans.
"No, it did talk to me," Samael claims. "Otherwise it would not have been interesting."
"Teasing us would have been interesting," Tasha ponts out.
"I'm doing that anyway," Sam admits.
"But it wasn't necessary to have conversation to do that, hence my point," the red woman insists. She then makes a shooing gesture; get on with it an tell us.
"It is indeed the trigger for K'z'Kxa-hem," Sam explains, pronouncing the name in a way that seems impossible without being able to alter ones throat and mouth.
"And can Kaz ... K'zzz'zaz ... Kzkzkz-- Can Kaz the Superweapon destroy the fleet, maybe even the rest of the floating apocalyptic disasters?" Tasha prompts.
"Yes," Samael replies. "This region of space will be removed from this reality."
"And whose reality will it then go to?" The not-hybrid's brows go up. "Is it Thotep's reality?"
"A void space, like Hastur's realm," Samael claims.
"That's ... probably good?" Tasha says, turning to Thoth for confirmation.
"It will be gone from this realm," Amuntaten says. "Locked away in a pocket universe. Essentially it will be within the event horizon of a non-gravitational singularity."
"So like ... in a jar." Tasha eyes Samael, untangling her hands to point at the nearest appropriate jar. "This jar."
"What gets left behind though?" Katie asks. "If this going to be a black hole, where anything that comes through will be trapped?"
"As Tasha says, probably it will be the jar," Samael notes. "And then the jar can also go into the jar."
"Well. I understand how these things work now." Tasha folds her arms, again, tilts her head, and seems to be spending the moment trying to decide how she feels about that. Or, possibly, whether she's still sane.
"The weapon could not be fired, because the drones forced K'z'Kxa-hem to eat the crew. There was nobody left to trigger it then," Sam explains. This is certainly news to those in the room, from the expressions that show up.
"I may have been avoiding mentioning that part. Can we just fire the thing and go, they do not need the details." Tasha emphasizes this point by rapidly poking Samael in the shoulder. "Be a good brother and obey your sister or she'll try and squish your head or something."
"We need to be out of the radius of effect," Samael claims. "At least one light-year to be safe. And I cannot activate the trigger, one of you will need to."
Tasha simply throws her hands up and walks over to the jar, taking a moment to prod it as well. "Hello evil jar. If you bite my hand off I'm going to put you on an ugly end table," she whispers.
"Submerging!" Kaa announces, before the dive alert blares and Dark Horse enters the Maelstrom in order to make speed away from the Nidhoggr.
"I have never been quite so glad to be in the bubbily not-space of the Maelstrom. I'd give the blind spot a hug if it wasn't a perceptual concept," Tasha notes, planting her head on her hands and staring at the weird jar with unconcealed (and somewhat disturbed) curiosity.
It looks hideous, but for no easily pinned down reason. If there were five jars that looked like it in a stall in the Bazaar, they would not illicit a sense of revulsion like this one does.
Tasha shakes her head. An ugly jar, a jar she'll have to jam her hand in to, and one that fires one of the most powerful weapons known to space. She's vaguely tempted to keep it and try and find it the universe's most disturbing end table, maybe place both near Lacci's room.
Lacci looks nervous. She can't have picked up on Tasha's thought though. It must be general nervousness.
To test this, Tasha tries to picture surrounding Lacci in ugly jars, quite without exactly looking at her.
"Ten minutes to minimum safe d-distance," Kaa whistles. "Five more after that before surfacing."
Lacci doesn't seem to change her level of discomfort. But Yue starts giving Tasha weird looks. "Don't brood," Aaron says, and tugs on Tasha's tail.
"We should probably go a little farther, just in case." Tasha moves on to wonder if Thotep has a whole dimension or stall somewhere filled with ugly decorations, perhaps an ugly dimenion-traveling dining table, or a lamp that glows Yellow. She aboust to come up with more but helps, straightening. "I WAS NOT BROODING."
"When you are thinking but not talking, that means you are brooding," Aaron claims. "If you think too much you will start chasing your own tail. Unless I catch it first, then you have to stop."
"I was just thinking about the delightful jar and the decorative possibilities," Tasha insists, meanwhile scooting towards Aaron. Her tail, newly upgraded, flails in trying to grab him instead.
"Ack!" the Lapi complains, batting at the tail. "I tried pottery once and made something like that," Katie notes. "It was supposed to be a mug."
"And now, just think, Thotep probably has it and it controls a planet eating hovercar or something," Tasha calmly suggests while continuing to try and grab Aaron.
"This is driving me crazy," Hakeber complains, and points at Katie. "Can't you sing something?"
Aaron is nimble for a nearly-middle-aged rabbit. But he's probably used to dodging things, and he never moves out of range, so is probably enjoying it.
"There was a girl with flaxen hair who looped and swooped right through the air she was the pretty maiden fair," Tasha sing-songs, head rocking back and forth. her tail is relentless, but without her watching, completely aimlessly.
Katie grins at the limericks, and watches the antics. Then she clears her throat, and sings, "The sun shines, leaving a red afterimage on the backs of closed eyelids. With notebook and pen in my leather bag, c'mon let's go walking. I draw and I draw, but they don't get any neater. There's nothing wrong with the paint I've chosen, I still remember the shooting star I saw last night - I was waiting for..."
"Hello, shooting star. Hello, shooting star again. She's been waiting, that dreaming girl has been here all this time. Just like she was that day," Katie croons. "Shine again.."
And then the klaxon sounds as Dark Horse returns to normal space, two light years from the derelict dreadnought.
"My ruff feels warm," Tasha side-whispers to Aaron, head ducking a little and ears laying back.
"It's only probably about you," Aaron whispers back. "You're the painter. So is Katie the shooting star?" Then he hops out of range, finally.
"I hope so," Tasha whispers back before Aaron gets out of range. Stepping forward she takes a deep breath, limbers her arms by rotating them, and puts her hands beside the jar. "I've fourth demigods. I can handle one evil jar. I can handle a lot of jars, no matter how ugly they are! Here we go ... explode things left hand!" And in the hand goes.
There's a moment of disorientation.. and Tasha is aware of the battleground, and all of the wrecks in it. Over a thousand! And even more monster-drones - some of which are not fully inert. There are stranger things than blobs of strange matter. Weapons that register only as concepts. And behind it all, screaming, and an unspoken question waiting for an answer.
"DESTROY it ALL."
Then there is silence, just before the jar itself vanishes, leaving just Tasha's clenched fist over the tactical table.
Tasha blinks at this, then after a moment of uncertainty flexes and unflexes her hand. "Huh," she goes, " ... that went pretty well."
"I was expecting something flashier," Lacci admits.
"Me too," Tasha admits, leaning back and dusting herself off needlessly to hide her shiver. "Horrible superweapons of the just have an elegance we can't match."
"I'll check the hyperspace telescope," Soshelle says. "To see if anything shows up." Then the Eeee leaves, heading for the bay holding the Tadpole.
"All gone?" Stanislav asks, looking ashen. "No proof we were ever there. Well, none we can show."
"Got a wooden library unit, so that's a win in my book," Yue claims.
"I hope I did it right," the red woman fusses, "It doesn't exactly come with instructions. I did get to see the whole battlefield and evrything in it. Some of the drones are still alive! And there were weirder things, weirder weapons. Concept-weapons. Well, good riddens. Now, I'm going to make the liquor behind the bar disappear." And just like that she walks off the bridge.