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Twenty years ago- years before you were even born, your homeworld repelled an alien invasion which arrived with no warning, no declaration, no communication. The invaders killed tens of thousands of your people before they all suddenly died- killed by their own ships.

---

You can read the previous threads here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=COADE
Check your stats and inventory here: https://pastebin.com/xN3kzUYp
>>
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After a moment's consideration, you pointedly turn away from the scaffolding, making your way towards the point where the ship touches the earth. You hang a left where the road bents right, heading away from the bustle of the work sites to the undisturbed, quiet sections of the ship. The retaining wall was about half as tall as you were, and made out of sloped concrete which you surmount with a good push.

You look down on the other side with a frown, before stepping off the concrete and into the ash. Small clouds were thrown up by your feet plunging into the greyish powder- and it truly was a powder. Your shoes sank deep into the soft ground, leaving deep footprints as you trudged over the ash. It was almost like silt, not rolling over itself like grains of sand, but shifting in blocks. Almost instantly, your ratty shoes are filled with the stuff, and it clings to your legs and socks, coloring them a dusty grey.

Slowing your footfalls a little bit to reduce the amount of dust you were kicking up, you trudge closer to the hull, bending your head back to look at it. Somehow it loomed larger and larger still the closer you approached, somehow stretching so tall it might bend back around like a cheap fisheye effect. You were so close now that you could pick out the fine, pencil-thin lines that traced the hull. Tiny seams in the metal were individual panels melded to the skeleton of the hull itself.

Some smaller plates stuck out to you- their edges studded with small raised edges- some kind of cap in the metal. One of them was missing, exposing what appeared to be a small gear. It's edges were pocked and scored, picked at by people with blowtorches and jackhammers, but it held firm, still glowing faintly with the Abyss.

Another irregularity in the hull sticks out at you as you're looking. A small dark panel- no, an Abyss signature directly behind an otherwise unremarkable cutout in the side of the hull. You step closer, slipping somewhat on the sudden incline of sand. The panel was caked with dust and also bore the marks of a clumsy attempt to breach behind it. Small pock marks from screwdrivers and pikes on the glass-like surface, and behind it, whatever information it might have displayed was long gone.

You knew better.

The display immediately lights as your fingers trace across the surface, leaving glossy streaks in the dust. White symbols flash across the surface, all weird lines and broken series of dots- Valkan. You stare at it for a moment, nonplussed as to what it was trying to say. There was no keyboard or anything similar for you to try and type with, but it had clearly responded to your presence. If there was a camera, it wouldn't do you much good, considering you were cloaked.

After a few moments, you slowly leaned forward, pressing your head against the panel so hopefully- hopefully your voice would conduct to whatever sensors it had, and murmured.

"I'm Valkan. Please let me in."
>>
>>4019105
You pulled back your head and waited, staring at the display with bated breath. The symbols changed, cycling through a few phrases in Valkan before a large word appeared on the screen. Again, complete gibberish to you, but it was something. You took a few steps back, just in case it really was broken and about to blow up or something.

An odd humming filled the air, that sort of soft buzzing that usually accompanied broken or ancient electronics. For a long minute, that seemed like all that was going to happen. The exposed gear started turning slowly and deliberately, as a large metallic groan sounded throughout Hull II. Dust slid from some of it's upper structure as the metal nearby shook ever so slightly.

A sharp click sounded, and ash blew out from the thin seams of the panel as the hull was depressurized with a loud hiss, followed by a loud, mechanical roar. The panel started to lift, damaged motors whining and groaning with pneumatic effort to shift the plate of metal. Several solid feet of the armored hull shifted aside before the superstructure of the ship started to show. A cage of black metal that crosses the underside of the hull, reinforced with metal i-beams the size of you, each attached to large pistons - or were they hydraulics, maybe? Is that what they were called? The roar of them was so loud that you almost couldn't pick up the high-pitched wail of sirens in the distance.

Almost.

An air raid siren was going off somewhere, pulsing three times before quieting, only to begin the sequence again. You spare a look over your shoulder, only to see the workers pulling back from around the Hull like a wave, construction vehicles left abandoned in place.

You swallow, realizing what you've just done.

"No going back." Wander said, gently. "Come on, before they try something stupid."

You nod, mostly to reassure yourself before stepping forward. Ducking under the overhang of the metal, you clamber up the side of the Hull- the normal mound of ash having been blown away by the depressurization. Pulling yourself up the side, you roll into the small airlock and stand up. Your feet clang on a sheet metal floor, the light from outside illuminating a small bay no bigger than your apartment.

The hull shook slightly as the motors spun up again, the airlock closing itself. You spare an anxious look behind you as the last strip is daylight is cut off by the metal lowering into place, until it finally disappears.

Mechanical sounds echo throughout the ship around you, before a brief hiss sounds. Your ears suddenly press out as the pressure drops slightly, and you automatically start working your jaw to clear it in the darkness. "H... hello?" You call out uncertainly. Lights snap on, illuminating the airlock in harsh relief, and also catching all the dust that fills the air. On the opposite wall, a door hisses before opening upwards, revealing a dimly-lit hallway.
>>
>>4019111
Lights flick on in those too as you cautiously stick your head out. Stretching to either side of you, the hallway continues what would have been the length of the ship, one heading towards the bow and another towards the engines - or, what would have been the engines, if the ship wasn't broken in two. An ancient ventilation system kicks in somewhere, stirring up a draft and the air around you. Yet another corridor extends directly ahead of the airlock, this one short and blocked by an unassuming door- a crank-operated one that you might find on any normal Tagaran ship.

You're suddenly stricken by the revelation that you are truly on your own now. Before, it anything went wrong, you could get Easy, ST, OH to come help you. You pull out your phone and check it, only to discover that indeed, it had no signal. This one was going to be all on you.

>Head towards the bow, you've got a good feeling about that one. That's where the bridge would logically be in a Tagaran ship.
>Go in the direction of the engines. When you're navigating a maze, the logical way to go was the one you knew was shortest. Or at least you think that's the phrase.
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
>>
>>4019113
>>Head towards the bow, you've got a good feeling about that one. That's where the bridge would logically be in a Tagaran ship.
>>
>>4019113
>Head towards the bow, you've got a good feeling about that one. That's where the bridge would logically be in a Tagaran ship.
>>
>>4019113
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
>>
>>4019113
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
>>
>>4019113
HOPEFULLY NOBODY NOTICED OUR SNEAKY ENTRY.
SORRY, WHAT? CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE AIR RAID SIRENS.
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
But anyway. Tagarans be nuts. I'd put all the important stuff in the middle of the ship.
>>
>>4019113
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
God damnit, Tiiris. We're in but how the fuck are we getting out?
>>
>>4019113
Meanwhile:
Breaking news: "Hull II does literally anything after over 20 years of inactivity, seemingly by itself"
Tiiris' drones - fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckgowarewegonnagettohernow
Dad - fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Kara - "Oh shit Tiiris"
Her combat drone - "I'd say check it out if the entire government weren't going to swarm the area"
Etc.
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway
Where there's a door, there's a way
>>
>Go through the center. It's obvious following the hallway will lead to just more hallway.
Writing.

>>4019528
It's worth noting that Tiiris is only familiar with Tagaran civilian ships, which are focused more on modularity and easy repair than functionality.
>>
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Update delayed for later in the day because I'm currently being batted into a tree by Valkan sorcerers.
>>
You run into the first bodies beyond the door.

Gagging by reflex, you back up against the wall, covering your mouth. Crumpled bodies lay on the floor - no, not bodies exactly. They were empty suits- the same kind you'd seen in the cave that Scuttles had lead you to. And on Wander, come to think of it. Both laid crumpled on the ground, broken and shattered from what you can only presume was the crash. Instead of a skeleton, or maybe a rotting corpse, the insides were filled with ash that spilled out of broken visors and tears in the suit.

"The energies must have affected the inside of the ship as well..." Wander mused to herself. Her shadow kneeled next to one of them. "What a horrible way to die..."

Shuddering to yourself, you look to the room beyond. It was some kind of ready room, with a small bench and kitchen unit shuffled off to one side. On the far wall, lockers shared space with various benches and a small shower. It looked almost untouched at first glance, but there were small signs. A small glass pot in the kitchenette had cracked in it's cradle, and the retaining bolts that held down most of the benches were warped and bent from some massive force. No points for guessing what.

"The more I see of Valkan engineering, the more I can't wrap my head around how... shockingly mundane it seems." You muse, gently prodding one of the benches with a shoe. "I mean, these are hex bolts."

"Keep it simple, I guess..." Wander murmured.

A few dusty tapestries were hung in corners of the room, a scarlet red pattern obscured by caked on dust and ash. A few strings hung from the ceiling, small metal... the only word you can think for the little metal bits was doodads. Little doodads, clumsily assembled with pins and what almost looked like hot glue. Feathers, metal spikes and beads together. It seemed like an odd decoration.

You try to open the lockers, but they don't budge. Each had a keypad on the front, but you had no real way of brute forcing the codes on them anyway. For a moment, you gaze lingers longingly, but you know better than to start trying to force it open now.

There was a door on the far left of the room, sealed by another twist crank door. Spinning it, you swing it open to show another hallway that immediately reminded you of mining ships. It appeared to be an intersection of six nearby hallways, two of which sloped upwards before meeting ladders. The other four took sharp turns and coiled away into different sections of the ship.

Undoubtedly it was the result of many revisions without a total hull refit over time- or at least, that's what Mr. Patterson always complained about when he was watching you for Dad.
>>
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>>4023975
Thankfully, there were signs and painted lines on the walls, each linked to a sign. Sadly for you... "I understand that they're going to write in their own language, but that doesn't make it less irritating for me." You sigh. "I recognize that symbol- that means 'fire' or something. At least, that's what I think it means on the plasma rifle. Uh..." You tap your foot. "You got any others?"

"That one means 'off'- no, wait. 'Standby'?" Wander sounded unsure. "That one's definitely 'ship'. It's all over ST and these ships."

"I don't know much about word construction, but that one just seems like a garbled version of 'construct'." You scratch your head, thinking. "...not sure where I picked that one up..."

>Follow the line with 'fire' in the name.
>Follow the line with 'standby' in the name.
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'.
>Follow the line with the variant on 'construct' in the name.
>Follow one of the two lines you don't understand.
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line with 'standby' in the name.
The Medbay should be nearby for dealing with casualties, right? assuming it would lead to some sort of Ready room for operations.
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line with 'standby' in the name.
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'.
Hm, if it's on ST too that might be a drone bay.
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'.
>>
>>4023978
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'.
>>
>Follow the line labeled 'ship'.
Writing.
>>
You turn right, following the red line attached to the sign. It takes you around a corner and down another hallway. And another hallway. Then another turn. And another. Then another hallway- that doesn't end for five minutes straight. More suits filled with ash lined the hallways, almost universally slumped against the far wall. You cover your mouth after coughing on some ash- and realizing exactly what you were probably breathing in.

"...right, this ship is fucking huge." You mutter to yourself. Most Tagaran stations were outclassed by the size of Hull II- in comparison to the ship you grew up on? A little gas tug that was so small it used thrust gravity? Hull II was a goddamn city. "Is there some kind of internal transport network?" You muse. "Like a train or a manlift?"

"Even if there was one, do you think it has power?"

"The lights work?"

"They're probably just running on reserve power."

You screw up your eyes. "Ugh, point."

"Besides." Wander pointed. "I think you're there."

Blinking, you turn your attention down the hallway. Several hallways met there, forming a junction where a large sideroom had been placed. Turning around the corner, you see it served as some kind of transportation hub. Stairs curled up the inside, looking otherwise normal except for a few odd rails that didn't look like handrails around the outer edges.

Instead of just being an empty space, the center of the stairwell had a ladder and a large rail running through it. Judging from the grate that separated the endless fall of the center from the hallway, you'd guess it had an elevator in it at one point. Nevertheless, the line continued down the stairs- all the way to the bottom, it turned out.

It gets darker as you descend, the the lights on the decks below turning on and off. On the deck the furthest down, a few weakly flicker on before shutting off. You get your phone out and turn on the flashlight. The deck sloped at an odd angle here, and many of the suits had rolled back to the ends of hallways over time.

"We must be close to the ground." You murmur, twisting another door. "This place is pretty fucked-" You throw it open, and immediately a mighty draft billows past you, throwing up your skirt and tossing your hair around while sending a plume of the dust and ash behind you billowing out and past the walkway on the other side... and into empty space.

Frowning, you shine your light out into the depths, hanging back at the doorway. Whatever far wall this chamber had, it did not illuminate it- only the many struts and walkways that crisscrossed the uppermost chamber. There were guard rails on both sides of the walkways, which themselves were grated with many small, finger-sized holes. A chamber built for working in microgravity.
>>
>>4026449
This place smacked of the ash bog's humidity- somewhere, the air outside was flowing back into this place. Judging from the mere fact that it wasn't crawling with workers - or troops, more appropriately - the shipbreaking operation had yet to get inside. A quiet draft drifted past your back and into the chamber, only hinting at it's true, massive size.

All around you, the walkways extended out into dim darkness that not even the light of your flashlight can fully breach. There was no telling how big this room was- but you had a sneaking suspicion it was a significant portion of the ship. The question is what it was used for...

You carefully walk along the platform, stopping periodically to bounce on it slightly and test it's weight. Darkness cloyed in at you, but you weren't afraid. If there's one thing you weren't, it was afraid of the dark. Something tugs oddly at your awareness, and you frown, turning to look into the gloom. A small light shone in the gloom.

Your light sweeps across the walkways before suddenly throwing the warskin into sharp relief. Your light floods it's many small optics, creating small discs of light in the dark that shined at you like the eyes of a spider. Despite yourself, you can't help but let out a small shriek before backing up into the guard rail. The warskin laid perfectly still, the only things moving being the minute twitch of it's optics as it followed you across the room.

It was attached to some kind of clamp by the top of it's body, and it was currently configured to lack legs. Instead, a long protrusion jutted out from it's rear, giving it an appearance almost akin to a fish with it's whiskers-like communications antenna and tapered shape, and was painted a blood red striped with white.

>"H-hello?"
>"I, uh, I command you..."
>>[Sub-Option] "To serve me!"
>>[Sub-Option] Write-In.
>Try to ignore it and move on.
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4026451
>"H-hello?"
If we are able to get it down, having a guide that could show us around would be handy.
>>
>>4026451
>>"I, uh, I command you..."
>>
>>4026451
>"H-hello?"
Aw. Poor robot was trapped in its harness while all its buddies were, uh, out killing people. And then everyone around it also died.
Hopefully it speaks Tagaran.
>>
>>4026451
>"H-hello?"
>>
>>4026451
>"H-Hello?"
Please be friendly
>>
>"H-hello?"
Writing.
>>
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"H-hello?" You stammer out.

"Greetings." It replied mildly, optics twitching towards you again.

"You speak Tagaran?"

"Yes."

You swallow and look for something to say. "W... what's your name?"

"I am SX2404." It answered politely. "What is yours?"

"Uh- Tiiris! Tiiris Elson!" You call back.

"I see..." SX2404 was silent for a long moment. "You are the first sentient to visit this location in twenty seven years."

"T- twenty seven?" You tilt your head. "But... wait."

SX2404's optics centered for a moment before it spoke again. "Forgive me. I was unaware of Tagaran dating methods. It was twenty years ago, in Tagaran years."

"Oh..." You look around. "What is this place?"

"The underside hangar bay. This is where inhabitants would dock their warskins and small craft while visiting their families aboard."

"Underside?" You tilt your head. "Is there another one?"

"Yes, on the ship's upper side."

"What happened to the rest of you, then?" You inquire. "How are you the only one left?"

"I am not." It answered simply.

A shuddering and straining of metal to your left reflexively draws your light to illuminate another warskin crawling up walkways. Massive floodlights mounted to it's front turned on, flooding the metal ceiling above you with light. It's body turned and swiveled back and forth, legs bending unnaturally back on each other in order to make the climb. Perching on two nearby platforms and raising itself up, it spoke. "Indeed, although we are few."

"...and you are?" You notice that it's hull was damaged- marked by a long black score mark that clipped it's right side and continued through it's 'shoulder', which conspicuously lacked anything mounted to it.

"UP8903." It answered, optics narrowing in at you; studying you, almost. "You don't look like much, even for a Tagaran."

SX2404 shot it was seemed to be a withering look before it turned back to you. "What brings you to this ship?"

>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
>"Honestly, I'm just exploring."
>"I am looking to claim what is rightfully mine."
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4027463
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
aaaaaaaaah this so cool but also aaaaaaaaaa
>>
>>4027463
>>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"

Should I call you sex?
>>
>>4027463
"Wanderlust, adventure, treasure hunting."
>>
>>4027594
404 error sexy robot lovin' not found
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>>4027463
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
>>
>>4027463
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
I'm Valkan, by the way. Have I told you that I'm Valkan? I'm definitely Valkan!
>>
>>4027463
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
>>
>>4027463
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
>>
>>4027463
>>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
>>
>"I'm looking for a medical drone, I need it to install a... 'machine seed'?"
Writing.
>>
"I'm looking for... for a medical drone." You manage. "I need to install a, uh... 'machine seed'?"

"You lack augments." UP8903 noted bluntly. "You have the correct genetic markings, but you were born without machine assistance, weren't you?"

You nod carefully, although something niggles at you. "Uh- yes. Do you know how to get to...?"

"Allow me." A quiet set of... you weren't sure how to describe it. Mechanical whining? The snap of an air compressor? Whatever it was, it launched a small cloud of objects from SX2404's back, letting them soar through the air before twisting and moving under their own power. Lights flicked on from the front of each of them, and as they drew close you realized it was a small swarm of scarabs- all of a very similar make to OH4875, if slightly smaller.

You lean over the railing to watch as the cloud drifts over the hangar, illuminating many small walkways and small decks below you. Most of them are empty, but you catch sight of one with a dead warskin in it. Unexpectedly, though, it didn't look like it was crushed in the crash- instead, it's body was scorched, split down the middle by the passage of an incredibly powerful round. "Woah, what happened to that one?" You point.

SX2404's optics turn to regard it, but UP8903 answers without even looking. "We had a disagreement."

"What kind of disagreement?" You ask warily, moving slightly to the side as one of the scarabs passes by you.

"Conflicting orders." UP8903 said airily. "This was before the crash. Some of us were ordered to continue the war in our master's place. Some of us were ordered to protect the lifeship until the creators returned. There was a conflict."

"It is over, now." SX2404 said, turning it's optics back to you. "Please, the repair scarab will show you to medical."

You feel it hovering impatiently at your shoulder and slowly turn, following it through the hatch and back up the stairs.

---

SX2404 watched the creator anxiously turn and leave, following after the drone like a lost puppy. Her movements were nervous, unsure- not exactly a picture of grace or beauty. She was much too young to inherit a legacy like theirs.

"She's doomed." A communication's burst came from UP8903.

"You should not have mentioned the traitors." SX2404 chided. "It frightened her."

"She should be aware of the world's dangers."

"Yes, but you should not exaggerate them." SX2404 paused. "I suppose this means Alich is dead."

"Alich is a coward. He was never going to return." UP8903 released it's clamps, allowing itself to fall back down to the intact dock it had made it's berth on the decks below.

SX2404 followed it's descent down, thinking. After a moment, it transformed it's flight unit back into legs, fixing them to either side of it's dock. Repair scarabs gathered around it like a cloud as it began the slow process of freeing itself for transport.

---
>>
>>4030042
Medical, it turns out, was just two floors above the hangar bay. Or rather, two floors and a whole lot of hallway away. It was right there, but through enough twisting and repurposed hallways that it would have taken you ages to find it without the drone. The line on the wall that leads to it was marked with one of the symbols you didn't recognize, too.

"Through this door." The scarab said simply, hovering next to it.

Nodding, you twist the crank and push it open. The air inside doesn't rush out like the others did, but it does immediately fill your nose with the uncomfortable stench of chemicals. It wasn't the overly sterilized smell that normally filled hospitals, but it was... similar. An odd synthetic scent that reminds you faintly of dairy.

It was a surprisingly cramped room. A few long tables took up the center, small drawers and compartments bolted on top to keep medicine nice and secure during moves- shame that the crash seems to have sent it spilling everywhere. Bandages had come unrolled, spindles of thread for stitches rolling across the room. Your foot clinks against a small canister of a mystery clear fluid, and you're not sure you want to know what it is.

You pick your way carefully through the room, peering around corners looking for anything that might be an inactive drone. "Hello?" You call softly. The entrance to the next room had no door- you can tell that it used to have one since it was buried in the opposite wall, it's hinges torn by the crash. You poke your head into the new room. "I'm looking for..." You trail off as something in the next room catches your eye.

A series of tanks were set into the wall in the corner, unremarkable and fairly mundane except for the Abyss presence attached to each of them. Each tank had some kind of metal cover placed on it, obscuring the contents from view. Most of them were blank, but the third had three words illuminated on it in Valkan. They were...

"Can I help you?"

"Gah!" You whirl around, coming face to face with a drone. It's body was topped with a wide disc painted white, with exposed black metal beneath. A large red optic stared you down curiously. "O-oh, um..."

"Your mother's name was Kallis, correct?"

"...what?" You frown. "No, her name was Jeanne..."

The drone backed away from you, making an odd stuttering sound as it... processed something. "Jeanne Elson? Wife of Sigmund Elson?"

"Yes...?"

It thought a moment longer. "No, that was her birth name. Kallis aust Tanoh. How is she?"

"She's dead?"

"Ah. A shame. Either way, have a seat, you're very late." It floated over to a different corner, unfolding many small arms from under it's body and stopping next to what you realized was an examination table- or perhaps a bed?

"Wait, what?" You take a few steps over. "Late?"
>>
>>4030045
"Your mother made an exo-womb reservation many years ago for her child. Presumably she was unable to enter the ship." It flicked one of it's arms towards the tanks you were standing next to. "Sit down, please."

The bed had clearly seen better days. Whatever was underneath the cushion had buckled in the crash, pushing an uncomfortable, hard bump right up against your ass. Still, you try to sit still as the medical drone pushes close to you, holding out small arms with what looked like cameras towards you.

"Do you have any cybernetics?" It asked.

You shook your head. "Not unless you count dental fillings."

"Ever had surgery?"

"No." You shake your head, leaning back slightly as it thrust a camera a bit too close. "Look, I actually wanted to ask you-"

"Have you ever had imaging taken of your brain?"

You blink. "Uh, no? Why?"

"You have major abnormalities in your brain." It withdrew it's arms. "Several lobes are different from a normal Sentient. One seems to have taken over partial function from the occipital lobe."

"Wh- is... is that bad?" You ask. "That's the part that controls your eyes, right? I-I do have vision problems..."

"For the moment you are likely fine, but there is a significant risk of major seizures starting after the age of 32."

"...seizures?" You ask in a small voice. "How ba- is- you can fix that, right?"

"Of course." It answered smoothly, aiming a few more cameras down the rest of your body. "Sex hormone levels are remarkably low for a girl your age."

You feel yourself twitch slightly. "...gee, thanks."

"It's not my job to comfort you. Does your diet incorporate heavy metals?"

"What? No!" You lean back. "That stuff is poisonous!"

"Valkans require trace amounts of it for proper bone development." It withdrew it's arms, folding them back up. "You don't seem to have inherited those genes, though. Frankly, you are in remarkable shape for having no specialized medical care. Only about ten percent of cases survive the first five years."

"Thaaanks?" You make a face, then look down at your feet. "...so... you can fix all this, right?"

"All of this should resolve with the proper cybernetics. I'll need to put you under anesthetic for the primary graft and-"

"Okay, okay- stop." You hold up a hand, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I'm... okay I'm kind of in a rush here, how long will that take?"

The drone thought a moment. "Roughly two hours. There will also be side effects as they grow into place. Would you like to wait?"

>Ask the drone to leave the ship with you, so it can implant you later.
>Do it just before you leave the ship. You're not quite done exploring yet.
>Do it now. This is the one thing you came to do- after that, you're leaving.
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. This is the one thing you came to do- after that, you're leaving.
What time is it now? would we still be able to make it back to the group and leave the crash site without blowing our cover, with the students?
>>
>>4030047
>Do it just before you leave the ship. You're not quite done exploring yet.

Ouch. Imagine being roasted by a medbot
>>
Also is it low key implied that, Elan's condition came about because he inherited the need for heavy metals, and it wasn't / isn't fulfilled.?
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
>>
>>4030074
>What time is it now?
It's about 2:30PM. Half an hour to get to the crash site from the cafeteria at 1:30PM and get the introductions out of the way, then about ten minutes to walk over and open the damn thing up. Then about fifteen minutes purely in walking across the ship, because Hull II is a little over 4km long and thus takes forever to walk around.
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.

>>4030205
How do you think he will react when we give him a vial of mercury and lead fillings and tell him bottoms up?
>>
>>4030540
The medical droid said Trace amounts, so we would be looking at only a few Milligrams per Kilogram of Body mass at most.
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
Man, I was dreading that the answer was going to be "three months". Two hours is great.

>Shipmaster Alich
>Alich
>A Lich
fffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuu
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
>>
>>4030047
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
>>
>Do it now. You can deal with whatever side effects it comes with as you're exploring the ship.
Writing.
>>
>>4031204
Can we customize the operation?
>>
>>4031226
I was going to address that narratively, but just in case can you specify what you mean by that?
>>
>>4031230
Choosing between big curvy blonde or cute athletic girl
>>
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>>4031279
Sure.
>>
>>4031279
I'm just saying, why not have both? If we can get our brain fixed just like that, nothing says we can't be a tall curvy amazon bombshell.
>>
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>>4031357
>>
You think for a moment. If anything went wrong... yeah, no, you're not leaving without the one thing you came here for. "No, I think we can do it now."

"Very good. Please lay back."

A thought occurs to you. "Wait, which... uh..." You struggle for the term. "'Make' are you using?"

"O50. The latest model. Normally reservations for it's use would be filled, but everyone in line for it's use has perished. You are quite fortunate."

"...thanks." You eventually answer, unsure of how to approach that sentiment.

"Lie down, please." The drone rotates it's long arms, filing through cabinets and grabbing various objects. One arm operates the controls on a large safe, reaching in to produce a familiar cylinder which it inserted into another machine.

You lay back on the wrecked hospital bed, trying to get comfortable. "Is this really the appropriate place to do this?"

"Of course. Roll your head to the right."

"Uh, okay..." You stretch out the side of your neck. "But really, how does this wor-" An arm swiveled out, pressing against the side of your neck and clicking sharply. Something cold and numb floods into your neck. "Kuuuh... how dahs..." Your thoughts feel slow- sluggish. The words start to tumble in your head and your vision swims in and out, distorting before returning to normal briefly. Your brain sticks on the question, your mouth continually attempting to form it, cycling for what seems like hours.

A few moments after receiving the injection, however, you've passed out cold.

---

1500 HOURS
19TH OF 5TH, 1173
SPECIAL INDUSTRIAL ZONE, SITE II

"Left stick, left stick, and- halt."

Lieutenant Taal let go of the transmit switch on his console. Everyone in the command cabin bobbed left slightly at the sudden stop in their turn, but he kept his eyes on the console in front of him. He flicked through his various graphics before nodding to his gunner.

There was a loud thunk in the machinery above him as the railgun turreted to the top of their vehicle depressed, dropping down to point at the distant shape of Hull II. "We're up and on." His gunner murmured, flicking switches on her console.

Taal flicked his transmit switch again. "Control, Otto-1 is in position."

"That thing doesn't look like much of a threat from back here..." His driver noted. "Why are we all so scared, again?"

"I don't know, but it did something." Taal answered harshly. "Now will you put away that ration?"

"No." He answered, stuffing a spoonful of rice into his mouth. "If it starts doing something I'll chuck it out the window."

Taal shot the back of his driver's head a withering look, before returning his attention to his sensors again.
>>
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>>4032120
The wash of ash around them was dotted with other firing platforms- primarily railguns with their main guns trained on Hull II, although towards the front command had seen fit to place a few columns of tanks and APCs. How they were supposed to help screen fire for railguns an entire kilometer back from them, he had no clue. Praise be to command and all that, but it was a protocol a decade out of date.

The question remained of what might happen if it really did reactivate on them. He tried not to think about that.

---

Medical Bay, Hull II
19th of 5th, 1173. 4:40PM.

Consciousness comes back to you slowly and thickly. Thoughts flow, but your awareness falters, struggling to keep up with the incredible noise of the world around you until it simply overflows and is lost. Your vision blurs and shifts oddly in the familiar, unpredictable pattern your eyes give you when you're half awake.

You groan and try to roll over, only to end up hitting a retaining bar on the cot.

Cot?

More thoughts connect together in your head. Cot, anesthesia, medical, Valkan- oh, right.

You groan and roll onto your back, before forcing yourself onto your elbows. Something strong and mechanical grips your back, pushing you up all the way. "Thanks..." You mumble, then wince- your mouth felt like it was filled with ash. "Wat-" A heavy cup of something was pressed into your hand. You chug the entire thing greedily, only slightly wincing at the bad taste- was it... bitter? "What is that stuff?" You croak.

"Nutritional slurry." The drone answered from somewhere behind your left shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"...damp?" You frown, picking at the sleeve of your uniform. The entire thing was ever so slightly soaked, like you'd fallen in a puddle and it hadn't quite dried off yet. You sniff it slightly and cough slightly at the aggressively sterile smell. "What is this stuff?"

"Sterile medium for the medical tank." The drone drifted over to your side, holding something out in an arm. "Your spectacles."

"Thanks... again." You frown and slip them on, the blurry world around you resolving somewhat.

"How do you feel?" The drone repeated. "Any sensations in your chest?"

"In my chest?" You carefully feel up your torso. "I dunno, it feels... wait." You take a careful breath, thinking. Something was different in your chest, but you couldn't put a finger on exactly how. It wasn't like the exact anatomy of your chest was something you ever put a high priority on memorizing, but it was... "My heart feels like it's kind of funny?"

"That would be the machine heart." The drone nodded. "Good, expect any feelings of strangeness to fade with time."

"That's it?"

"Your machine heart is implanted and integrated. The rest of your cybernetics will grow in over time."

You pat your chest a few more times, frowning, before looking down. "You promised me boobs." The disappointment was thick in your voice.
>>
>>4032126
"Give it time." The drone said sardonically. "Completely overhauling your body can't be done in an hour."

You immediately perk up. "How long?"

"Two weeks- presuming you get enough food. Strange urges are completely normal, so try to listen to your body's signals. It's just trying to get you the elements it needs. Small headaches, hallucinations and spasms are normal as your AI integrates."

"AI." You touch the nape of your neck self-consciously. "So there's...?"

"An AI installed into your brain, yes." The drone said. It held out a small bag full of green powder to you. "Mix this with water and drink every morning and every night. It's the same nutritional slurry you just drank."

You take it. "I'm going to have to figure out how to get this past customs, then..."

"It can be prepared in a medical fabricator as well." The drone offered.

"Yeah, I don't have one of those..."

"Ah, well. Then that's your problem, isn't it?"

"Right..." You sigh to yourself, gathering your wits about you for a moment before standing up carefully. Your feet feel oddly light, starting to react quicker than they normally would and requiring you to grip the bed closely while you get your bearings back. You peer outside the door, noticing the small scarab floating outside, still waiting for you. After grabbing your bag, you poke your head outside. "Hello, there."

"Hello, ma'am."

"I want to explore the ship more..." You glance up at the lines running along the walls, then gesture to their labels. "What do those say?"

It turned to them. "These guidelines lead to fire control-" It indicated the one that had 'fire' in the name. "The residential blocks." It indicated the one with 'standby'. "The below hangar bay, and hydroponics-" There it indicated one of the two that you didn't understand before. "This last one leads to the engineering block, but that path is inaccessible after the crash."

"How so?" You ask.

"The access passages were crushed by hull deformation."

"...was that's all there was on this ship?" You tilt your head.

"To my knowledge. Not all ship specifications were released."

>Lead me to Fire Control.
>Residence blocks?
>>[Sub-Option] ...do you know where Kallis aust Tanoh lived?
>>[Sub-Option] Do you know where (Write-In) lived?
>Let's go back to the hangar bay.
>Take me as close as we can get to engineering.
>What's in hydroponics?
>[Write-In]

>[Optional] Ask the medical drone to come with you. You need it to fix Elan and Kara, after all.
>>
>>4032127
>Residence blocks?
>>[Sub-Option] ...do you know where Kallis aust Tanoh lived?
>[Optional] Ask the medical drone to come with you. You need it to fix Elan and Kara, after all.
>>
>>4032163
Support
>>
>>4032163
This. Need to look out for the rest.
>>
>>4032127
>Residence blocks?
>>[Sub-Option] ...do you know where Kallis aust Tanoh lived?
>>
>Residence blocks?
>>[Sub-Option] ...do you know where Kallis aust Tanoh lived?
>[Optional] Ask the medical drone to come with you. You need it to fix Elan and Kara, after all.
Writing.
>>
You turn around. "I want you to come with me. My friends need to be treated as well."

"Then they can make an appointment." The drone replied mildly. "I must stay with the ship."

"Why?" You tilt your head. "Isn't your master dead?"

"My master is the ship's intelligence." The drone turned, picking up strewn bandages in the bay and rewinding them into rolls. "Petition it, if you wish."

"How do you talk to the ship?" You ask, tilting your head. "The bridge?"

"I would not know. The location of the AI core is strictly confidential." The medical drone replied.

You glance to the scarab.

"Neither would I."

"Right..." You sigh. "...hey, scarab?"

"Yes?"

"First off- what's your name?"

"LL1100, ma'am."

"LL, then. The residence blocks... they're like housing, right?"

"Yes, apartments and living spaces for the crew."

"Do you know where-" You nearly say 'Jeanne', but force yourself to stumble over the unfamiliar name. "'Kallis aust Tanoh' lived?"

"One moment, referencing crew directory." The scarab paused. "Yes, this way." It turns and glides through a nearby doorway, starting to lead you on an odd zig-zagging route across the ship. You could gather by the rough pattern that you were moving diagonally across the ship, although you wondered if it wouldn't be more efficient to just go straight and then turn.

"So, what does a lifeship even do? You ask."

"It is a civilian support vessel." The scarab answered. "It supports larger military ships who require regular resupplying, providing living quarters, hydroponics and food processing- on it's own, the Tanoh can support a population of one hundred twenty thousand individuals."

"That's... a lot." You pause. "Wait, how many Valkans were there?"

The drone stopped speaking - a sign you were beginning to recognize as it retrieving information from some kind of database - then replied. "Last peak in the previous century was one hundred fifty two thousand and eleven individuals. Lowest trough in said period is three hundred and six."

"I take it that's after the crash?"

"Yes." The drone stopped suddenly, nearly causing you to run into it.

You around, grabbing a wall to remain upright. After shooting it a little glare, you look beyond it. The corridor you were facing seemed almost eerily familiar in a way you couldn't quite describe. It was much wider that other corridors in the ship- at least double, and crowded with doors spaced out every few feet. They weren't the heavy crankshaft doors you'd seen around the ship, either. They were nicer, sliding models. Odd pockets were cut out of the walls above and between each door, although they seemed to only be filled with ash.
>>
>>4033908
It takes a second for it to click, but you fish in your bag for the sketchbook and pull it out, flipping through the pages until coming to "Street" again. You hold it up, looking at it's depiction of a well-lit, open corridor. Plants bloomed and hung from planters set into the walls, filling the space with what you imagined was once a vibrant green. You lower it and look at the space beyond again.

Where plants used to be, the planters were only filled with ash- some of which had spilled onto the metal floor. The lights were flickering, casting the hallways in sudden dimness and twenty years of dust had settled on every clean surface, giving it a thick, grimey appearance.

"...how many people used to live here, again?" You ask.

"On this ship? Forty four thousand crew." The drone floated over to a door. "Here, room C1403." It waited for you to walk over. "Is something wrong?"

"No." You shake your head, looking warily at the ship beyond. "It's just... starting to sink in a little."

The door hisses slightly before opening, sliding to the side and stirring up a small cloud of dust around you. Stepping through, you blink as soft yellow lights blink on in recesses in the ceiling, illuminating the room in natural oranges. Although it felt slightly off- too yellow, not the right shade of orange to be the sun.

It was remarkably clean compared to the rest of the ship- no dust from bodies or plants inside the room. In fact, it had that odd burnt smell of a room that had recently been depressurized. Which was impressive, considering the ship had crashed into the ground twenty years ago.

What got you the most was how... ordinary the space seemed. There was some kind of strange machine in the kitchen, the shower was some crazy multi-head set up and almost every appliance was crowded with tactical buttons- but it was still an apartment. Your feet weren't on metal, they were on carpet. Cheap, raggedy carpet, at that. The bed was bolted to the floor, and it's sheets were all over the place, but it was still... well, a bed.

You step through into the- well, the living room. A cheap wooden table of some kind was low to the ground, cushions that had once been spread around it squished into the wall nearby. Through a doorway beyond on the opposite wall from the door, a bedroom was clearly visible, with a kitchen separated from the living room by a high counter.

Something tinkles under your foot, and you look down to see a framed photo of some kind on the floor. Leaning down, you pick it up, carefully minding the shards of glass that fell out of the frame as you lifted it up. Inside was a worn photo- a real photo, too, not a digital screen or e-paper. Inside was...
>>
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>>4033910
Your stomach twists unpleasantly at the sight of your mother in a suit of Valkan armor. Blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles, all as you remembered her, but wearing a silvery suit that clung to her body- although of a remarkably different style to the one you'd seen Wander in. More patterned, personalized almost. Vibrant red cloth was strapped to the dark panels of armor across her body, a small strip of loose fabric trailing out from her hip like a skirt and laying on the log she was sitting on.

Her arm was around a man with cropped brown hair, the other arm holding her helmet. He had a bemused expression, while Mom had a wide, goofy smile on her face. Behind them, you could clearly see a forest of some kind, filled with vibrant, crimson foliage.

You stare at it a few moments, before flipping the frame over in your hand and unscrewing the back - some kind of clever mechanism letting you just twist to pop it and the picture out. A few shards of glass had left small puncture holes in the photo, but you were able to flick them out easily. There was writing on the back.

"Kallis and Javob on Rustal for a training exercise, 1779." The scarab translates for you.

"Javob?"

"Javob aust Tanoh. Her brother."

"Oh..." You had an uncle? Dad had never mentioned it. But then again, you doubt he ever knew. "Is he still alive?"

"His file marks him as killed in action."

"Figures..." You flip the photo back around again. "...hey, what's wrong with their ears?"

"Pardon?"

"Their ears- are they... pointy?"

The scarab peers closer. "Ah, yes. I believe it was common fashion at the time."

"Fashion?" You ask in disbelief, still staring at the photo. "Weird..." Different emotions churn in your gut, your own ingrained dislike of Valkans fighting out with the image of your mother, and that small voice that said you were Valkan too still in there. Mom always seemed like... well, Mom. The idea of her having been a Valkan outside of what you remembered of her is... it's tough to fit all of your emotions together.

>This feels wrong. You can't reunite your memories of Mom with these... people. They're better of separate.
>This taints every memory you had of your mother. It's difficult to think of her in a positive light.
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
>By this point, you're not sure where you identify any more. The more you learn, the more conflicted you feel.
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4033919
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.

Oh fuck we are space elves
>>
>>4033919
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
>>
>>4033919
Somewhere between
>By this point, you're not sure where you identify any more. The more you learn, the more conflicted you feel.
And
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
Somewhat along the lines of
>maybe Valkans weren't so bad?
Instead of
>VALKANS ARE THE ENEMY
So basically we feel longing but we're in denial about it and it's gonna take a little bit before we go full pro-valkan but we're 65% of the way there
It's time we redefine what it means to be "Valkan"
>>
>>4033919
>>This feels wrong. You can't reunite your memories of Mom with these... people. They're better of separate.
>>By this point, you're not sure where you identify any more. The more you learn, the more conflicted you feel.
>>
>>4033919
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
>>
What are all the robots hoing to do when eveeyone eventually gets inside?
>>
>>4033919
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
>>
>>4033919
>By this point, you're not sure where you identify any more. The more you learn, the more conflicted you feel.
Tiiris may know that she is part Valkan, but i'm not sure she's ready to accept that she is one of 'them'.
>>
>>4033919
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
Tiiris has been marginalized in a lot of ways. Wanted to join the military, couldn't due to eyes. Kept up the physical conditioning, but can't do team sports because eyes again. Decent at most schoolwork, mediocre at computers. Good friends, but dirt-poor family. Bottom rung of society, but not angry about it, just... still looking for somewhere to fit in. And then Magic Alien Cyborg Space Princess happens.
It's understandable to want to know and explore more of our heritage without being overly generous towards the war and destruction aspects of said heritage.
>>
>>4034412
The remaining drones are those who were ordered to safeguard the ship instead of continuing the war. So, at a guess... when the ship is breached, there'll be a fair bit of shooting and destroyed drones as the more inflexible ones seek oblivion in their final orders, after which the remaining ones and the ship itself sue for a ceasefire, reasoning that they can still fulfill their orders while at an armed standoff, or with Tagarans inside.
>>
>>4033919
>By this point, you're not sure where you identify any more. The more you learn, the more conflicted you feel.
>>
>You feel longing, both for your mother and for the people you never knew.
>Also with an undercurrent of 'the war was still wrong'.
Writing.
>>
>>4035656
Seems like a good compromise.

Also I want to add how funny it is that the 'Tanoh' was apparently a civilian support vessel, despite being so heavily armed and shielded that the Tagarans classified it as a Dreadnought. It makes sense to put your best protection on what's basically a flying city, but WOW.
>>
>>4035812
Modern day hydroponics takes something like... 84 times the energy it takes to just grow something normally, I believe? The Valkans have improved on that number, but they're feeding more than 150k people with just two ships and without the benefit of a planet to fall back on.

When you're generating that much power, powering a few dozen guns is basically peanuts.
>>
Your eyes flick over the photograph, trying to take in every little detail you could. It's hard to ignore the pang of grief in your chest as you look at your mother. Eventually you can't bear to look at it any longer, tearing your eyes away and slipping the photograph into your bag.

>'Photograph: Kallis and Javob, 1779' added to your inventory.
>'A photo of your mother and her brother in armor, taken on an alien world during some form of military exercise.'

Everything you discovered about the Valkans, you lost in the same second. An uncle you never knew, a society that had been reduced to dust. Everyone was dead... well, most of everyone. They weren't the sort of people you'd want to meet, though.

To try and take your mind off it, you start to shift through the more mundane items in her room. In the kitchen, you poke around the cabinets and fridge. All the food you found had been turned to ash, which was somewhat amusing when it was wrapped in cellophane- or whatever weird equivalent to cellophane this was. Instead of a sink or any normal range, the kitchen had a single counter topped in some strange black metal that glowed with Abyss energy.

After all the weapons and military hardware you'd found, it was somewhat amusing to see a piece of kitchen equipment that used it. You didn't mess with it too much- mostly because a small section started glowing red hot after you touched it, and you didn't want to set yourself on fire.

Eventually, you grow bored looking at bags of dust and trying to guess what they used to be and slip into your mother's bedroom. You raise your eyebrows slightly at the double bed, before your attention is taken by the large, messy workbench against the wall.

The contents had long been strewn across the floor- wires, pliers and small pieces of metal. A disconnected mechanical arm of some kind was caught on an exposed metal beam in the ceiling, but the rough purpose remained obvious. A small locker bolted to the floor had a long rifle and two... what looked like pistols firmly clamped in place.

"What did my mother do again?" You ask.

"Kallis aust Tanoh was a knight sworn to the service of Shipmaster Alich."

"Right... and a knight is... what? Some kind of soldier?"

"A tradition of the Art specializing in close vehicle and personal combat." The scarab recited.

"'Close'?"

"At ranges less than one kilometer in space, and fifty meters in planetary environs." It clarified. "It demands high technical skill and mastery of the Art."

"I see..." You look over the work table. Nothing more than the most basic pieces on it made much sense to you, but those weapons... "Was this my mother's?" You ask, pulling the rifle out of it's clamp. It was long, and shaped much more like a regular firearm, with what appeared to be an empty slot in the stock for a magazine.

"Likely. It appears to be a heavily modified Type-93 Battle Rifle."
>>
>>4035959
"It's engraved." You note with slight confusion, tracing your hand over small silver detailing in the metal.

"I know little of the Art." The scarab said. "It may be personal vanity or serve a function of the Abyss."

You set it down on the work bench before turning to the rest of the room. In the closet, you find a number of different clothes- some of which are familiar. Shirts, pants- although they were made of some funny canvas-like material. A few you weren't entirely sure would fit the same person, with heavy jeans and a few sets of... you could only describe them as robes, maybe.

You push them to the side to look beyond it. Organized in small drawers in the closet were many every day items mixed with pieces of Valkan machinery. Hair pins were squirreled away in one drawer next to a small box of blue chips, roughly the size of a credit card. What was clearly a Valkan romance novel- from the cover, at least, was slotted into some spooky-looking black tome that glowed with Abyss energy.

All of this was...

...there was no way you could smuggle any of this out of here without the military finding it. And with everyone's eyes on Hull II, there's no way Easy or OH could sneak in to take a few things for you. They'd be noticed and shot out of the sky. You didn't want to leave it... but you had a feeling you'd have to.

>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
>Take the risk and have your drones come to fetch a few things.
>Maybe not the drones without... but the drones within the ship could help you? They had no masters, right?
>The ship had hangars- you'd explored one. Could you find something in there?
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4035969
>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
>>
>>4035969
>The ship had hangars- you'd explored one. Could you find something in there?
>>
>>4035969
>The ship had hangars- you'd explored one. Could you find something in there?
>>
Very cool setting OP, I've only seen one other piece of media do the human/AI combination before.
>>
Just remembered that we brought the datacore. Shouldn't we try to read it first?
>>
>>4036349
Which one?
>>
>>4035969
>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
If we try and ship out in a shuttle, everyone will shit themselves and fire everything.
>>
>>4036410
Supreme Commander, the Cybran.
>>
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>>4036524
Eyy, that's where I got the idea. Well, that and Crysis.
>>
>>4036572
It fearured pretty heavily in Eve online's lore with the Jovian statics/modifiers and the VR hellworld the sleepers trapped themselves in too, but that's a whole different ballgame.
>>
>>4035969
>>The ship had hangars- you'd explored one. Could you find something in there?
>>
>>4035969
>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
We already have a bunch of cool things to mess around with, and the more we collect the bigger and more detectable our aggregate signature gets from what one of our drones said (I think it was ST?). Attracting the attention of cultists would suck.

Checking out the hangars sounds like a good idea too though. But it does take time away from hunting for the ship's AI... agh. So many things!
>>
>>4035969
>>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
>>
>>4036399
This
>>4035969
>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
Recovering the ship can wait until we negotiate a deal with or defeat the Tagaran government
>>
>Resign yourself to the fact that only the most inoffensive things can come with you.
Writing.

>>4036399
It's with Easy and OH, I believe.
>>
>>4037500
...oh yeah, it is still with them. Guess we kinda made a break for the ship the second we got outside. Oops?
We did get more time to explore this way, though. Hard to feel bad about that.
>>
You sigh sadly, turning away from the clothes and weaponry. There would be another time to get such things- actually, didn't ST mention needing to get you a suit of armor eventually? Perhaps he'd have an idea as to where you could get such things.

That said, there were a few smaller things in here you could take. The photo you'd already picked up already, but you'd also spotted a few, small knickknacks while you were rifling through the drawers.

"Can you tell me what these two things are?" You ask, holding up the tome and the blue cards you found.

The scarab perused the spine of the tome. "A grimoire. I do not know the specific volume."

"And a grimoire is?"

"A book that can only be opened by those who can utilize it's contents." The scarab recited.

"...and what does that actually mean?"

"I do not know." The scarab thought to itself. "I would hazard that it is some manner of encryption or security."

You think to yourself for a moment before flipping it open. It opens to the middle in your hand, and you take a thumb and let the pages fly by you. The contents were written in Valkan, but... yep, it's a book alright. "Right." You said dubiously, before holding up the blue crystals. "These?"

"Data chits. Small storage space, but very durable and with multiple levels of data integrity. Commonly used for personal data. Most machines can read them."

Frowning, you look at the small box. The chits clinked against each other in it, a small hole punched into a corner. Personal data? So... things about your mother? Her personal writings? That was a tempting thought, but you don't know whether you can really smuggle something like this past security.

Although even disregarding that, you also had to contend with... well, fitting it into your bag. Looking at the space that was in there, and what was taken up by your school things, you estimate you could fit the grimoire and the chits in there before thoroughly packing it. Maybe a third thing of about the same size, if you dumped out most of your school things except for your phone and terminal. Is it worth it?

>Take the grimoire.
>Take the data chits.
>Take both.
>Take neither.
>>
>>4038144
>Take both.
>>
>>4038144
>Take the grimoire
>>
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>>4038144
>Take the data chits.
>>
>>4038144
>Take the grimoire
>>
>>4038144
>Take the grimoire.
Ooooh, secrets.
>>
>Take the grimoire.
Writing.
>>
You heft the book in your hands a few times before slipping it into your back. A grimoire? Sounded a bit pretentious, but you'd take it over some random Valkan flash drives. You return the box of them to the shelf. While it would have been nice to get them, you can't really justify it. They probably just held old family pictures or other random crap that'd fall under 'personal' data.

>'Unidentified Grimoire' added to your inventory.
>'Supposedly will only open to those capable of using it's contents. Opens just like a normal book to you. No telling what the contents are, but it was made with the Abyss...'

You take one more, good look at the room, at the random crap that once belonged to your mother. Ratty furniture, weapons and future tech all. "...okay, I think I'm ready to go."

"Shall I show you to the airlock, ma'am?"

"No, uh- let me thiii- ah!" You wince at a sudden sharpness at the back of your head. "Sorry, just pinched something, um..." You mumble as you finish, fighting the sudden wave of dizziness that comes over you. An odd tightness was growing behind your eyes, connected by a long, twisting rope of pain to that same spot in the back of your head. Something prickled there, and you reached back to tentatively rub it, only for your fingers to meet your flesh far above where it was- under your skull.

Your eyes suddenly want to loll to the left, then twitched up and down. The room distorted heavily, and you feel unsteady, a sudden rush of air passing by your head as you realize you're falling backwards. Something heavy collides with your chest, and you clumsily wrap your arms around the blobby, metal shape in surprise. The scarab pushes you down onto the bed, pushing under an arm to hold you up.

Trying to reach a hand up to rub your eyes, you found they were twitching and moving on their own- the only thing that let you know this was happening was the lump of your iris pushing on your eyelid. Your brain was thoroughly choking on your vision, now, the cacophony of blurred colors and static persisting even after you screwed your eyes shut.

Your vision cuts out.

It didn't shred into a mass of useless nothing like it normally did- it simply went away. Like a switch being flicked. No colors, not even blackness because that would imply a sensation. You saw nothing, not even the absence of light.

You open your eyes. Still nothing.

Trying to bring your free hand to your head just results in your hand uselessly flinging by your head several time. Without even the suggestion of shapes you were used to working with, you're forced to slap your hand onto your shoulder, then crawl it across onto your neck, then up onto your head, accidentally knocking your glasses off in the process. Tentatively, you prod at your eyelid.
>>
>>4039947
It was open. You try pulling it down, in case it was simply swollen shut like it had gotten when you first came to Tagara. No dice. The eyeball- your eyeball was still moving on it's own, but it was smoother- long arcs up and down, then side to side.

You strain for even a hint of color. Reds, yellows, greens. A few moments after trying to recall what green looked like you got worried. Did you remember your own face? The memory comes easily, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the sense of familiarity and slight dissatisfaction. You try to visualize it, and you struggle, your brain not quite able to parse the memory into an image. It was there, like a book you could pull from the shelf, but the moment you tried to read it, the words were all in a different language.

A lump grew in your throat, the uncomfortable tightness of panic and anxiety gripping you. Trying to ponder solutions or the next step didn't work when your mind continually stuttered and ran over the sudden absence of vision. Each attempt to recall the ship's decks didn't work as the memories were returned as unsure turns and body movements to make, attempts to follow the scarab caught up on what the scarab looked like-

Vision suddenly injects itself into your thought process again as the image of the ship springs forth. Colors, lines and shapes carefully swam and resolved together until you could see the ship buried in the silt, exactly as you recalled it. Your face, school, flowers, your Dad's face- all suddenly cascade through your mind like a clogged queue suddenly rushing forward.

You blink your eyes furiously as they twitch, then move as you look to the left. The bedroom around you presses into your mind, sharp edges of furniture and texture on the walls flaring out at you. Small loops of fabric that made up the carpet crowd your vision, cloying for your attention with the small hairs on your arm and the worn paint of the scarab pressed against you-

You have to screw your eyes shut. The detail is... too much. Waaay too much for your mind to handle right now.

Sensory integration complete. Occipital lobe calibration in progress.

...wait. What did you just think?

"...I'm hearing voices." You said, peeking an eye open. The room flared out at you again, sharpness itching your-

Adjusting visual processing...

-retina until it suddenly softened, the detail fading into unawareness until your vision has returned to normal. Well, mostly normal.

Adjustment complete.

"Are your implants malfunctioning, ma'am?" Somewhat embarrassingly, you realize you've wrapped the scarab in a bear hug.

"...that's my AI?" You shudder slightly as you lean away from it, holding on tight to it's case as a precaution. "Fuck, why does it sound like me?"

"I am told most do. Do you require assistance walking?"
>>
>>4039952
Carefully, you get to your feet. You expected some weakness, but... really, you actually feel fine. Physically, anyway. Mentally you feel more than a little anxious after that episode. Was that going to happen again? What even was that? Was your vision so fucked up your... 'machine heart' had to blind you while it fixed it?

You weren't entirely sure you bought that it had fixed anything, either. Every few seconds, you keep reflexively reaching up to your face to adjust your glasses, only to realize you weren't wearing them. After a few seconds searching on the floor, you find them knocked under the bed and pick them up.

>Quality lost: 'Reading Troubles'

>New quality: 'Machine Heart: Integrating'
>'Small changes are being made to Tiiris' brain and body after the installation of her cybernetic implants. Already, a few changes are evident.

You turn them over in your hands thoughtfully a few moments before turning back to the scarab. "Um, right, I said I wanted to..."

>Go to the above hangar deck.
>Head to engineering... yes, even though it's blocked.
>Head to a different residence block. (Write-In specific unit)
>Take me to Fire Control.
>You mentioned hydroponics?
>...does this ship have a bridge?
>[Write-In]

>Keep wearing your glasses.
>Stop wearing them in private.
>Don't wear them at all.
>>
>>4039955
>You mentioned hydroponics?
>Stop wearing them in private.
>>
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>>4039955
>...does this ship have a bridge?

>Don't wear them at all.

Implants are fast.
>>
>>4039955
Try talking to yourself.
>>
>>4039955
>...does this ship have a bridge?
>Stop wearing them in private.
>>
>>4039955
>...does this ship have a bridge?
>Stop wearing them in private.
Maximum Clark Kent mode.
Let's see if we can find a way to talk to the ship's AI...
>>
>>4039955
Hello brain. Can I talk to you now or am I schizophrenic?
>>
>>4039955
>>...does this ship have a bridge?
>>Keep wearing your glasses.
>>
>>4039955
>...does this ship have a bridge?
>Stop wearing them in private.
We should consider looking into replacing the lenses with glass panes that aren't lenses asap, since wearing glasses that don't suit your eyes are very bad for you and messes up your vision anyway.
>>
>>4040528
I'm thinking her eyes just got upgraded so far past beyond what they were originally it doesn't matter whether she wears glasses or not.
>>
>>4040528
We could always just say that we swapped to contacts, and ditch the glasses.
>>
>>4040587
Why the hell did I not think of that monumentally obvious excuse? All right, switching.

>Don't wear them at all.
>>
>>4040528
>We should consider looking into replacing the lenses with glass panes that aren't lenses asap, since wearing glasses that don't suit your eyes are very bad for you and messes up your vision anyway.
We have a bored engineering Scarab at hand. It could replace the lenses with something flat and transparent in seconds. And they'd probably be shatter proof. Permanently.

I just like girls with glasses. And the Clark Kent cliche. So it's win-win!
>>
>>4040528
You can wear pretty much whatever you want. If you choose to, this will happen:

You slip the arms of the glasses back over your ears and immediately wince. Everything was off and overly magnified, like some old lady's spectacles. Immediately your eyes felt more strained, hurting slightly.

Left lens: +0.25. Right lens: +0.32. Deforming...

Your vision blurred and shifted, the room first becoming blurry up close like it normally was, then sharp again. After a moment, the strain vanished, and the room returned to being crystal clear again, even though your glasses, which no longer overly magnified it.

Lens deformation complete.
>>
>>4040842
...well hell, if it's that easy and literally just a fashion choice, I'm >>4040288 switching to
>Keep wearing your glasses.
>>
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>>4040907
Wait no shit
I don't
what cute?
glasses yes no maybe
disguise?!
FUCK
I DON'T KNOW ANY MORE
BENTUS WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BRAIN
AAAAAAAA
>>
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>...does this ship have a bridge?
>Try talking to yourself a little bit.
Writing.

>>4040989
...do you need more time to consider that one?
>>
>>4041079
No, no. Just had a four-way mental pileup between "Cute", "Cute with glasses", "Cute with glasses, cuter without" and "Cute without, cuter with". And then all the tangled anime images smashed together and caught fire.
Stop wearing them in private is good.
>>
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>>4041138
Then we're calling that one in favor of
>Stop wearing them in private
I believe.

Somehow I just knew that one was going to get a large response.
>>
>>4041157
Big sexy librarian vibes
>>
>>4041157
Quite possibly the most important life-changing decision we've yet made.
>>
>not embracing becoming machine augmented and ditching the nerd goggles
Weak
>>
So, uh... Is Tiiris more voluptuous in time? I mean she's fine the way she is but, man, cute tiny valkan gf evolving into super hot valkan gf is not a bad idea at all!
>>
>>4041508
Not yet, but... soon. Soon.
>>
>>4041508
Do not lewd the Tiiris.
>>
>>4041517
Can't repopulate the Valkan race with that attitude.
>>
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You turn your glasses over a few times in your hands before eventually slipping them into your bag. Without the familiar weight, you feel oddly naked and vulnerable, but it wasn't like you actually needed them anymore. No sense pretending otherwise... for now. You glance at the scarab. "...does this ship have a bridge?"

"In a manner of speaking. The command deck is located beneath the above hangar bay and above the hydroponics turbines."

"Can you show me?" You ask.

"Follow me." The scarab turned and floated out of the bedroom. Taking a moment to give the room one last look, you leave.

The scarab takes you up, making turns whenever you come to a bulkhead that isn't open or when debris block your path. Finally, you both come to a different variant of door. The same kind of thick, sliding door that was in the airlock.

"Is this it?" You ask.

"Yes. One moment." It glided to a panel next to the door and faced it for a few seconds. "They appear to have engaged bridge lockdown. I will require your assistance to engage the override."

"Mine?" You ask in confusion.

"The hydraulic override is too heavy for my manipulation be-" The scarab began, before being interrupted by a loud hiss echoing out from the door. With a loud click of depressurization and the sharp groan of operating hydraulics, the door suddenly slid open, a wave of dust wafting out and over you. Your throat suddenly seizes up, and you reflexively plug your nose with two fingers and screw your eyes shut.

Sealing lungs against irritants.

"...beam." The scarab finished weakly.

You hold the pose for a few moments more - dust settling all around you - before you realize what happened. And what you just did. Once the dust floats past your shoulders, you're able to yank your fingers out of your nose and gasp for air. "Don't do that!" You snap at the air, not caring that you're talking to yourself as you put your hands on your knees and breathe. "Fuck, give me a little warning!"

"I didn't do anything, ma'am." The scarab said in confusion.

"Not you." You point to your head. "You."

It was a long moment before the thought slid back into your head. Apologies. Lung filters not in place. Adjusting preferences.

"It... it wasn't bad." You gasp, glancing at your arm warily, like it suddenly might rebel against you again. "It was just... I thought I was moving my arm on my own, but it was you, wasn't it?"

Yes.

"Just..." You shudder. "Fuck." After a few moments of breathing, you sigh. "...okay, no. The shouting was uncalled for. I'm sorry." You wait for a reply. "...I'm sorry?"

Standing by.

You try to parse that reply for a few moments. Was it... angry? Did you make it mad or... no, was it just telling you that it was moving on? Do implanted AIs even have emotions? You'd seen plenty express something approximating emotions before. Quite a few seemed to have some grasp of sarcasm, but was... augh!
>>
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>>4041744
"I don't understand my AI." You complain, glancing at the scarab.

It stared you down evenly. "That sounds like it's between you and it." Then it turned and glided into the bridge.

You stare after it. "...I don't understand any AI." You mumble, following it into the bridge.

The bridge of Hull II- the Tanoh, bore a lot of similarities to other bridges you'd been on civilian ships. Large glass panes looked out into the deep blackness of space - or in this case, actual blackness. It puzzled you for a few seconds until you remembered a few things. First off, the Tanoh had no windows of any kind. Second, you were deep in the center of the ship from the sounds of it. Third, the vastness of space was not what was outside, and you didn't see desert. Just like the fake windows ST made when transformed into a car, the bridge windows were fake, and currently off. They certainly did a good job of replicating a reinforced window's peculiar holographic shine, though.

The edge of the command deck was lined with many consoles and chairs- rather plain ones, oddly. They weren't anything like the proper shock seats you saw on the bridge of smaller ships. Then again, you suppose a civilian vessel like this would never undergo any serious acceleration either.

In the center, a small pit had been sunk with even more consoles and chairs, with another stack actually mounted above them. Some of the lights that lit the bridge were actually mounted to them, although most of them flickered on and off pitifully. As much as you wanted to focus on the odd amount of consoles, your attention was forcibly called to their contents.

Each and every chair held a limp, ash filled suit. Many were slumped over on the console ahead of them. A few were missing their helmets or had crushed visors, letting ash spill onto the chair and the floor below it.

"Fuck me..." You murmur, coughing slightly. "What was this room?"

"Launch control." The scarab replied. "Launches and arrivals are coordinated here with the hangar bay, with the assistance of managerial teeth and automatic guidance drones."

"Managerial... 'teeth'?" You ask, stumbling over the strange phrasing.

"Allow me to check my dictionary..." The scarab thought for a moment. "Yes, it is a Valkan term for specialized, non-sentient AI."

"Teeth..." You turn the thought over in your head. "Odd, but okay..."

"I assure you it is more casual in Valkan." The scarab said, with an odd undercurrent of... wait...

"So are you actually sarcastic or do all drones sound like this?" You ask.

"Stick around long enough and you might find out."

You stare a moment before coughing, then giggling. "Okay, maybe I understand you guys a little."

"Is that so." The scarab replied, sounding pleased.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." You glance to the side, then point at a door to the left of where you came in. "What's through there?"

"Navigation and engineering control. Beyond that, fire control near the prow."
>>
>>4041746
"And that way?" You point to the right.

"Command deck water closet and kitchenette, followed by crushed access to the engineering deck and the secondary bridge."

You frown at the door. It was slightly ajar, either not able to close all the way or locked in place due to some fault. Lights above it slowly turned on and off, the power creeping down the row of bulbs to the door before repeating, like a broken set of holiday lights.

>Go to fire control.
>Go to navigation and engineering control.
>Go to the water closet.
>Maybe the bridge isn't that useful after all...
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4041749
>Go to navigation and engineering control.
>>
>>4041749
>Go to fire control
>>
Is the AI meant to be in sync with our thoughts rather than being a passenger? Have we just upgraded our problems to schizophrenia?
>>
>>4041929
Both.

Think of it as a synchronization rate, except that low synchronization isn't necessarily bad. Both Tiiris and the AI if anyone would like to suggest a nickname for it feel free are adjusting to the change, so there'll be some bumps.
>>
>>4041951
Tworis
>>
>>4041749
>Go to navigation and engineering control.
>>
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>>4041749
>Go to navigation and engineering control.
>don't worry I lived on a ship as a kid
>i know how to handle this
>rampant button slapping
>Tanoh.jpg

>>4041951
We could go with "Iris". Actually not as silly as it sounds, because she did fix our eyes.
>>
>Go to navigation and engineering control.
Writing.
>>
>>4041749
>Go to fire control.
>>
The door opens with another telltale hiss, sliding up into it's recess easily. Beyond was a room that was remarkably smaller and yet more open than launch control. The number of seats in the room numbered less than a dozen, their consoles forming a ring around a central... 'table' of some manner. It's surface was topped with glass, but if you strained-

Focusing...

-you could make out the many small cones that clustered underneath, forming a mat not unlike a bed of nails, or those novelty pin box toys.

Raised above the other chairs was a slightly taller chair. It's console did not dominate the front, but instead was mounted to the arm. If you sat in it, you were fairly sure it'd give you a great view of that funny table below it. Not that you'd want to sit in it, considering the body that currently occupied it. Despite yourself...

"So there's no way that's not a hologram projector, right?" You ask with a grin, pointing at it.

"It indeed is a hologram projector." The scarab answered with an amused tone. Something about it seemed a little off- perhaps something about it's paintjob? It was dimly lit in the lighting of the room. You weren't sure what it was that was bothering you. "Would you like to see it run?"

"As long as it doesn't break anything."

"Pick an empty chair and sit down." The scarab circled the table quickly, before stopping behind one of them. "Here."

Carefully trying not to touch the body nearby, you slide into the seat and adjust yourself. It had thick, comforting padding that made you sigh slightly in relief after being on your feet for so long, even if the stirrups were adjusted too long for your legs. When you look at it, the console screen lights up, Valkan words tracing across it for a few moments until a series of icons appeared- all in Valkan, of course.

The scarab studied it for a few seconds, before saying. "Third option from the top of the right column."

You reach out and touch it, causing the menu to flick instantly to the next set of commands.

"Bottom option."

"You wouldn't be able to download Valkan into my head, would you?" You murmur.

Working on it.

"So you can?"

"Right box. Hit it and wait." The scarab guides.

Yes. No. Process difficult to convey. Transference of instinct, intuition. Not knowledge.

"Why not?" You tap your fingers on the armrest as a progress bar ticks across the screen.

It would change you.

"...that sounds ominous." You say. "Change me how?"

Sudden influx of knowledge overwhelming. Ineffective. Does not teach, and hurts host. Host must pull from distilled wisdom, let engrams form normally.

"Right, I think I get what you mean." The progress bar disappears, and you reach out again.

"Use the arm controls. Lower thumb button."

You fumble with the odd set of thumb buttons for a moment before managing to get a new dialogue box open. "So I guess that means I still need a reference book?"

Yes.
>>
>>4043955
"Any idea where I can get one of those?"

No.

"How much do you know?"

Very little. I am a being of instinct.

"...a being of instinct." You drawl. "Not sure what that's supposed to mean."

It was a long moment before it responded.

I am your instincts.

You don't have long to dwell on it's choice of thoughts as the projector lights in front of you. A sea of soft, orange pinpricks washes to life above you, and an image forms in midair. A wireframe model of the ship, about the same size as you, formed out of glowing orange lines. Several labels appeared in Valkan surrounding it. In particular, the rear section of the ship was lit up blazing red with warnings.

"What's this?"

"It's the ship's engineering readout. Damage reports are collated by the system here and in the local damage control stations. In a smaller machine, such as my host warskin, there is only a central readout." It explained.

You lean back. "That's a lot of red."

"The ship is heavily damaged." The scarab turned to the readout. A few of the labels flickered, vanishing before reappearing, then vanishing one by one until only a single on remained, flashing impatiently. "...it appears the damage control systems are damaged themselves."

"What does it say?" You ask, gesturing to it.

"'Emergency maintenance to engineering sewage junction'." It read, hovering in front of a pulsing section of the ship's internal 'spine'- a long rod that seemed to run through the center of the entire thing. "It's inconsequential, ma'am. None of the ship's current occupants require such facilities. Shall we continue?"

>"Can you show me fire control next?"
>"Is it possible to access the ship's navigational charts? Is there anything useful in there?"
>"There's somewhere else on the ship I'd like to go."
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4043957
Is there any way to set the damaged systems to self repair? Starting with damage control of course.
>>
>>4043976
The ship's self-repair is more or less running. Although the bigger the system, the less and less effective it becomes. Tanoh has very little damage on the outside other than the obvious break, and the self-repair is mostly responsible for that. You never chose any of the routes that would lead to ST entering combat, so it didn't come up.
>>
>>4043985
Fire control for me next then.
>>
>>4043957
>>"Is it possible to access the ship's navigational charts? Is there anything useful in there?"
>>
What are we hoping to gain at this point? Tiiris has turned herself into a half machine abomination amd fixed her eyes, so now she's basically just wandering around a graveyard.

The only other thing I can think of worth would be finding the ship AI and convincing it to work with the shipbreaking crews before they force their way inside.
>>
>>4044048
If we manage to find it we should also ask about releasing the medical assistant to us so it can help our friends too.
>>
>>4043957
>"Can you show me fire control next?"
Finish our bridge tour there, sure.

>"'Emergency maintenance to engineering sewage junction'." It read, hovering in front of a pulsing section of the ship's internal 'spine'- a long rod that seemed to run through the center of the entire thing.
This strikes me as a hint at how to get into engineering. The drones are ignoring it because they don't think it's necessary with everyone dead, yet it's flashing as the most important alert?
Could be the Tanoh intelligence trying to tell everyone how to bypass the crushed corridors to reach engineering, if it's trapped in there. The drones certainly don't seem to be able to talk to it, and lack the clearance to locate it.

And every adventure must include a sewer level, of course.
>>
I wonder if we can just ask the Scarab the places he can't go to find the AI. I hope it wouldn't be that simple, but you never know with fucked up Valkan logic.
>>
>>4044328
It seems more like a case of need-to-know on a shipwide basis. Engineering warskin hibernating in the drone bay. Medical drone disconnected from the ship and defaulting to its job. Scarab unable to access the bridge and surprised when it lets Tiiris in, then needs Tiiris to access the hologram, and gets disgruntled by the volume of alerts it contained.
The drones we've met so far (including our own) have been very intelligent, just entirely focused on whatever their jobs are. I'd guess asking the scarab where it can't go to find the AI core is would get the answer "Pretty much everywhere."
>>
>>4044436
It can't hurt to try, at least. It feels like the more that's learned about the Valkans, the more they seem like prime retards.
>>
>>4044499
>It feels like the more that's learned about the Valkans, the more they seem like prime retards.
You have no idea.
>>
>"Can you show me fire control next?"
Writing.
>>
>>4044921
>let's make it so we can't reproduce unless using extremely advanced technology
they said it couldn't be done but chad tagaran genetics dont care
>>
>>4044954
Let me sum up what you've learned about the Valkans so far (with implied information in spoilers):
>They split off from their fleet of origin despite the engineers warning them it would be an awful idea for both them and the fleet of origin.
>They hid critical information like the location of the AI core from the rest of the ship, despite probably having no reason to.
>They were massively overpopulated.
>They took civilian ships into battle.
>After the dust settled, all of the survivors came to hate their former leader for unspecified reasons, but probably has to do with Valkan tactics during the war being about bombing defenseless civilian targets from a distance.
>The Abyss can't be channeled right unless you believe in what you're doing, and all of their ships exploded basically at once.

Take all that information into account and it hopefully starts to paint a pretty ugly picture of what they were like.
>>
>>4044992
I'm surprised the Tagaran military didn't build some ghetto nuke pumped plasma cannons on the surface and big ole bomb pumped lasers in orbit to score even a single kill to be honest.
>>
>>4044954
Which part of her mother's genes did Tiiris get? Certainly not the pretty genes or the muscle genes.

>>4044992
Is Tagara part of a galactic federation or something? I'm surprised that they manage to hold them off for years.
Time to find the Valkan main fleet and kidnap a boy for breeding purposes.
>>
What if the Valkan AI were the bad guys and no one knew it? Subtly influclencing the human side? Can it even get hacked? If I was looking to take down a Valkan that would be my first avenue of attack.
>>
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>>4045002
Actually they did manage to get two at Tiir with essentially giant fucking nukes, which is why on the map Hull III and XVI are way the fuck out at the moon when everyone else is around Tagara. Hull XIV was also shot down normally, but that was during the final battle where they were already having problems.

>>4045012
>Galactic federation
Nope. The Valkan's were Tagaras first contact, as mentioned in the OP for thread one. They also have comparatively slow hyperspace technology- Tiiris' dad mentioned before that they top out at about one light year a month, which isn't slow by any stretch, but it takes them a Tagaran year round trip to get to the nearest star and back. They mostly use it to make interplanetary travel practical. Back when Sigmund was younger, they used to have more pressure on developing faster FTL and colonization techniques because Tagara had a bit of a overpopulation problem- they sure as fuck don't have a population problem anymore, so most of the pressure for new technology comes from the military.
>>
>>4044992
>The Abyss can't be channelled right unless you believe in what you're doing, and all of their ships exploded basically at once.
So they basically all simultaneously died from despair?
>>
>>4045055
They all died from the mental strain of attempting to commit genocide, yes. And a few other factors.

Like has been mentioned a few times before, they REALLY hate Alich's guts.
>>
>>4045041
tagara stronk kill all valkans

VALKAN FLEET NEXT
>>
>>4045041
>Nope. The Valkan's were Tagaras first contact, as mentioned in the OP for thread one.

And yet their genomes are similar enough to breed, meaning that they both originate from a common ancestor. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
>>
What's the over/under on Tagara being an ancient colony of smart Valkans?
>>
Valkans are just space jews. Tagara is Israel, the promised land.
>>
>>4045438
or the Valkans being an ancient colony of dumb Tagarans?
>>
I think y'all might be putting Tagarans on an awfully high and unsteady pedestal, considering what we've seen of them so far.
>>
>>4045658
Tagaran government didn't start a genocide, and even helped us get into the ship. So far they seem pretty based.
>>
>>4045706
Most of the Valkan prisoners they caught never lived long enough to be interrogated before mysteriously being beaten to death, the military has a severe corruption problem with weaponry finding its way onto the black market, and death cults who abduct people abound. As Joran said, most of the government and general population would have few compunctions about killing and dissecting Tiiris.
>>
>>4043976
>>4043985
Is there any way to use the Abyss to repair the ship?
>>4044229
>This strikes me as a hint at how to get into engineering.
You may be correct. I'll back it.
We must reach the ship AI and repair the ship using the power of the Abyss if at all possible
>>
>>4045751
>>4045706
Honestly the Tagaran government is probably more schizophrenic than Tiiris ever will be.

>>4045823
You'd have to ask someone who would know. But if the self-repair is more or less running and it hasn't fixed itself, that's probably a good indication of how bad it is.
>>
>>4045876
>that's probably a good indication of how bad it is.
It just needs more juice, clearly
>>
>>4045876
>Honestly the Tagaran government is probably more schizophrenic than Tiiris ever will be.
Based. If they're too busy figjting themselves that's less time focused on troublemaking half-aliens.
>>
Fire control was an ominous room. Not because of it's size - in fact, it was smaller than either navigation or launch control had been. That was what unnerved you about it, though. The lack of size. Only two consoles were in this room, both facing each other, and with an astounding amount of screen real estate compared to the consoles in the other room. One of them had individual screens that stretched up above the headrest like the dream of a demented multitasker.

"Who sits there?" You ask, gesturing at the chair.

"The fire control officer. From here, the weapons officers coordinates with the other weapons officers."

"There's only two?" You ask, tilting your head.

"No. The ship has multiple redundant control systems, especially for fire control. This ensures the ship can fire back if the bridge is hit or rocked by deceleration. The second chair is for the gunnery control officer, who receives and executes orders from the ship's executive officer."

The two names sound similar enough to be confusing, but you nod anyway. Gripping the arm of the chair and carefully leaning over so not to disturb the occupant. Several of the monitors light up, and after a second, display three bright bands of color. The yellowish ash of the bog, then the small, thin, but extremely flat and bright white line of the retaining wall before being broken by the speckled grey of the sky.

"Hey, what are these boxes- oh no..." You feel your heart sink as you look at the images. Speckled all across the ribbed surface of the bog were hundreds of small boxes centered on small dots. You couldn't read the Valkan script attached to each box, but you had a sneaking suspicion it meant 'target'.

"It appears the Tagaran military has responded." The scarab noted, hovering on the opposite side of the chair.

You try not to look at the body slumped over in the chair too much. "So those are..."

"Optical computer has identified it as Tagaran anti-material systems." The scarab said mildly.

"Can they actually do any damage to us- er, the ship?"

"At this range, with the shields down..." The drone considered. "Yes, their projectiles will completely perforate the Tanoh. Although they may do negligible damage to it considering it's size, it is not heavily armored past the exterior hull."

You shiver. "The armor's really that weak?"

"A heavy element of the protection of most Valkan vessels is their energy shields. Without them, they are only slightly more durable than non-shielded ones."

You shudder and back away from the console quickly. "Fuck, how am I going to get out of here..." You mutter. "I'm going to open that airlock and they're all going to kill me."

"Ma'am?" The scarab turns to you.
>>
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>>4046380
"I'm dead... if I go back out." You mutter. "Even if I cloak and go out a side entrance... there's no way." You look down at your uniform, caked in the ash of the bog and still drying from the funny medical stuff you woke up in. What was your excuse going to be? You just ran back into the base, or got lost in the bog? How were you going to explain to them that they hadn't found you for hours?

"Would you like to open fire?" It asked.

"What? No!" You shake your head quickly. They'd just blow the ship up or... or worse, if you did that. "Is there... is there something I could do to reduce the chances of them shooting me? Could I... open all the airlock doors or something? I did that before."

"You opened the airlocks?" The scarab asked quizzically, tilting it's body as if to cock it's head.

"Y... yes?"

"Odd. The airlocks do not normally cycle from the outside."

"...how are you supposed to get in, then?"

"Usually with the permission of launch control. Are you sure you didn't enter through a break in the hull?"

"No." You shake your head. "I touched this panel and it opened."

"A comms panel? Odd. I was unaware any constructs were still interfaced with the systems."

"Well, who would be?"

"The ship's main AI, but I was under the impression it was hibernating or offline. It has not spoken since the crash. Otherwise, we could simply access any panel of the ship for you to speak to it."

"Right..." You turn the thought over in your head. "And where it is?"

"I do not know. It was-"

"Confidential, yes. But where should it be? On other ships?"

The scarab considered the question. "I would presume somewhere along this spire. Kharaki has it's AI core in the spire, just below the navigation deck. But the Tanoh has no AI core there, it's all sewage routing."

You think a bit more. "...hey, question. Can we repair the ship?"

"Depends on what you mean by repair."

"Get it spaceworthy." You clarify. "Return it to pristine state... can I use the Abyss?"

"My understanding of the Abyss is limited, but it is possible- for smaller ships." The scarab looked around. "The damage to the Tanoh is vast indeed, and it is many millions of cubic meters of Abyss-forged systems integrated with non-Abyss forged systems. I am no forge scarab, but even I can see this vessel would require the attention of a shipyard or foundry ship."

"Ah..." You heart sinks. "Worth a try..."
>>
>>4046381
You ponder your options. Part of you figures that since you've only been in here for... what, three hours? If you left right now and carefully sloshed your way to the wall, you might be able to bluff your way out of any serious trouble. Hide in a small corner until they find you, then say that when the air raid sirens went off you ran. At the same time... the medical drone. That's what you'd came here for, not just for yourself, but for Elan and Kara. You felt guilty leaving without it, but with your implants... maybe you could find a different one outside of the Tanoh? Every second you spent here further reduced your credibility when you eventually left.

The ship's AI was an interesting thing, but it was just that... a thing. You weren't sure if it would justify the effort required to locate it. What would it really give you? What if it was evil- that's how it always went in sci-fi, right? The evil AI turns against it's creators?

Now your brain was just running wild with the theories. You clamp down on it and focus.

>Gather your things, it's time to bail.
>>[Sub-Option] Conscript whatever drones you can on the way.
>Continue exploring the ship. You're not done with this place yet.
>>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?
>>[Sub-Option] Honestly screw the AI, but there were other things worth getting in engineer. ST had mentioned something about 'armor', and if it was as good at hiding as the cloaking device was...
>>[Sub-Option] Try the above hangar bay.
>It's time to consider an olive branch. Something to prevent the Tagaran military from opening fire.
>[Write-In]
>>
As an experiment, I will be closing the vote eight hours later than normal today. It usually takes me that long before I actually get to write it, so might as well let you guys vote and discuss in that time.
>>
>>4046384
>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?
We should see if we can get access to the engineering sewage junction, from this side of the Hull and get past the crushed sections, we should aim to sort out the AI first before we start looking for a spare set of amour, since the more time we give our machine heart to integrate and provide any connections itself we might need and integrate, the smother all of this will go.

Though we should keep an eye on the time,
>>
>>4046384
>It's time to consider an olive branch. Something to prevent the Tagaran military from opening fire.
>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?

We're in deep at this point, right? We've been missing way too long, they've got to be suspicious. Might as well see this thing through.
>>
>>4046384
>Continue exploring the ship. You're not done with this place yet.
>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?
Leaving is probably the sensible option. But if it was the ship's AI that let us in, it could be an emergency.
Or it could be sad and in need of a new friend. (also an emergency)
>>
>>4046384
>Continue exploring the ship. You're not done with this place yet.

Not sure which suboption to pick... Also, the sewage plant looks like a really interesting place to visit. I mean, it's practically begging us to check it.
>>
>>4046384
>Continue exploring the ship. You're not done with this place yet.
>>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?
>>
>>4046384
>>Gather your things, it's time to bail.
>>>[Sub-Option] Conscript whatever drones you can on the way.
Get out Tiiris
>>
>>4046380
>"At this range, with the shields down..." The drone considered. "Yes, their projectiles will completely perforate the Tanoh. Although they may do negligible damage to it considering it's size, it is not heavily armored past the exterior hull."
Ah... there's a thought. We may NEED to keep exploring until we find a better way out. The ship is quiet right now, but the door opening was a wee bit loud.

If it makes noise to get the door open again, every lunatic on a hair trigger is going to light it up until it's swiss cheese. No way to know whether the brass would try to stop them, or if their policy is already "just blow it up if it moves again, we'll break into safer, deader ones." Future expeditions here could become impossible.

I guess there is the benefit that no one would notice our exit over the sound of railguns and explosions. The flying shrapnel would be brutal, though.
>>
>>4047580
So if we can find a set of armor, see if we can get drones to reconfigure the Lensing Field Generator for use with it, then use one of the holes in the hull that is big enough for us to slip out through while the Lensing Field Generator is active, our new AI should help with maintaining it it, we may need to practice with it first before we make the trip also we should see if we can spread the stealth field over any drones we touch, we just need to make it far enough outside the compound, that ST is comfortable coming in to pick us up.
>>
Find some external holographic projector and project a white flag?
Have a shapeshifting drone turn into a literal flying olive branch?
Any other thoughts how we can signal non-hostile intent.
>>
>>4047698
Convince the Ship's AI to open all of the doors, and leave them open.
>>
>>4047703
Are we *sure* we want to be letting the Tagaran military in here?
>>
>>4047718
There are eventually going to get in anyway, they have the advantage of having as long as they need, to do so.
>>
>>4047722
If we convince the AI to let the Tagaran military inside, that means we will never be able to come back, realistically.

Much better would be to convince the AI to occasionally hold dialogue with the Tagaran forces and drip feed them info and research materiel. Maybe even allow an occasional scientist inside.
>>
>>4048028
If we keep up with the linguist facade, we would be instrumental in doing almost anything safely, and we might even get invited to take a look at some of the other Hulls.
>>
>>4048047
What happens when people start asking questions though? Like how does this girl just instinctively read Valkan with no academic training and no notes, theory, or documentation showing the process of understanding the language.
>>
>Continue exploring the ship. You're not done with this place yet.
>[Sub-Option] Try and get into engineering. That was logically where the AI had to be, yes?
Writing.
>>
"So." You address the scarab - GA2027, rather, for that was it's designation. "If I wanted to get into engineering, I'd go that way, right?" You raise a finger and point down in the direction of the navigation center and launch control behind it.

"Yes. But as I said, engineering access is crushed..."

"Define 'crushed' for me." You ask as you turn and begin to walk. "What does that actually mean?"

GA2027 thought for a moment. "Imagine." It began. "That you are holding a box. When bent, the side that is forced to become the fulcrum compresses, then snaps down. The opposite side does not do this, and because it is a closed shape, cannot bend in precisely the same manner as the fulcrum. So the two are pinched together."

"Right..." You nod. "So the deck has pushed up against the ceiling?"

"Yes, and more. The hull has pinched against itself, rupturing most of the inner decks and creating a large amount of shrapnel. Normally, exposed wiring and unintentional discharge into the hull would be a concern, but the engines are non-functioning. Ruptured coolant, sewage, water and life support lines are the only remaining concern."

"Oh, just those?" You roll your eyes and gesture at the door. "How do we get this open?"

"It is much the same as the procedure we were going to use on the command deck bulkhead. There is a panel beneath every hydraulically operated door." GA2027 directs you, hovering down and removing it with the same beam of blue light you'd seen Easy and OH use. A 'manipulation' beam, it would seem. Beneath the panel was a lever, currently set flat into the floor. "This can be used to cycle the door open. Please, pull it."

You stare at the drone for a long moment, something idle prickling at you. This wasn't the first time you'd had the thought that it's appearance was slightly off, but you weren't sure... ah, wait. It's signature had disappeared, replaced with a hovering data tag that held it's designation and a tag displaying it as unaffiliated. You were wondering when it had told you it's name. In the moment, you were too occupied with your current task to ask your AI about it, but you did take note that like the signature it had replaced, the text hovered over your vision without truly being there. Taking up space, and yet not actually blocking the room beyond it, words that existed only in your brain.

You reach down and grip the large handle. It's top was coated with a smooth, grippy material that had just enough give for you to not tear at your skin as you pull.

And oh boy did you need to pull. Whatever mechanism it was connected to, it was heavy.
>>
>>4048941
"Hey, Wander?" You pant. "Do you think you could..." You huff. "Show me how to increase my strength with the Abyss again?" You wait for a response. "...Wander?" You look over your right shoulder, expecting her to be hovering over your shoulder, as she always was. She wasn't there, not even her trademark hazy outline. Come to think of it, you hadn't heard her speak since you went under for your implants. Frowning, you close your eyes and carefully begin to respirate.

Barely the thought comes before the energy leaps to you, eager and willing to be used. The motions of your ethereal lungs begins automatically, filling your body with steady, controlled energy. It flowed easier than it ever had, expelling in and out of you with but a thought, freeing up your mind to focus on shaping it.

You gently probe at the part of you that linked to Wander. The exact nature of it still escaped you- to be honest, it felt a lot like poking inside your own brain, but there was a definite thread that lead to her being and her thoughts. It didn't snake off, like it normally did when she was away. In fact, the normal separation - the gap created as she stood apart from you - was much closer than normal. Was she hibernating or something?

The strength of the Abyss fills you naturally, and as you turn your attention back to your problem, it instinctively flows down your limbs, strengthening them until-

You grunt as the lever pulls up with a hiss of active hydraulics. The door begins hissing in response, internal pistons shifting and finally cycling as the door opens. The right side panel gets caught on something before it can fully retracts, but it opens wide enough for you to step through.

Ignoring the rather small, cramped - and once again, uncannily familiar - kitchenette compartment beyond it, you step into the command deck's bathroom- or 'water closet' as they apparently liked to call it. From what you could see, it had only a bunch of funny looking shower things, with walls full of funny dials and ports next to the shower controls. A rather stripped down version of the shower in your mother's apartment.

What really gets your attention is the fact that the water closet shreds down to almost nothing just a few steps in. The ceiling sloped down suddenly - or perhaps it was actually the floor rising up - crushing all the remaining units in the line into accordion-like sandwiches of metal. There was a small gap along the bottom that was perhaps as wide as your head, way too small for you to fit into. If you got down on your hands and knees, though, you could swear there was a space beyond.

"Damn." You murmur. "Not even you drones can get back there, huh?"

"Not without leaving the ship, no."
>>
>>4048942
You ponder.

>Your strength in your powers seems to have suddenly improved since your implants went in, perhaps some application of those?
>>[Sub-Option] Shapeshifting is perhaps the obvious one. Although you don't think the scarab would be able to come with you...
>>[Sub-Option] Perhaps you could use psychokinetic power to open a wider passage?
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4048943
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
>>
>>4048943
>[Sub-Option] Perhaps you could use psychokinetic power to open a wider passage?
>>
>>4048943
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
>>
>>4048943
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?

I'm not 100% sure that we should immediately jump to using our powers. If it becomes necessary, then yes, but otherwise, it might be a good idea to try some experiments with them in a safe environment, once we leave the wreck.
>>
>>4049294
[i]If[/i] we leave the wreck.
>>
>>4048943
>>Your strength in your powers seems to have suddenly improved since your implants went in, perhaps some application of those?
>>>[Sub-Option] Shapeshifting is perhaps the obvious one. Although you don't think the scarab would be able to come with you...
>>
>>4048943
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
If there is, then use it. Otherwise, use psychokinetic force so the drone can get through as well.
>>
>>4048943
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
You can't tempt us with the promise of a sewer level and then not deliver.
God damn do we love sewers.
>>
We're probably going to have to get some kind of airtight suit if we want to go through some gross sewers.

All that technology and they still need a sewer.
>>
>>4049910
There hasn't been anyone living on board for twenty years. If there is anything smelly in there then questions must be asked.
>>
>>4049928
Maybe I'm misreading.
>>4048941
>Ruptured coolant, sewage, water and life support lines are the only remaining concern.
I feel like they wouldn't be a concern if they were empty?
>>
Is Bentoos kill?
>>
>Let's be clever about this- is there an alternate route that you could use?
Writing.

>>4051215
Bentoos is not kill. Just closing the vote much later for a bit. See if it works out more.
>>
You tilt your head. "Damn, that is tiny. Are there no other passages that are wider?"

"The passage gets progressively wider towards the upper hangar bay. At it's widest it is only seven centimeters across."

"So that's a no." You ponder. There probably wasn't a high chance you were going to out think a mechanically-inclined robot on this. But from what you'd seen with Easy, OH and... well, any drone you'd met so far, they had a tendency to be somewhat literal-minded. A thought occurs to you. "You said the hull itself was pinched, right?"

"Yes?"

"But the contents- they weren't exactly broken, just smushed together."

"That is correct."

"If they aren't seriously damaged..." You point to the deck beneath your feet. "The sewage lines are still probably intact, then. How would we get to them?"

GA2027 looked at you oddly, then back towards the door between the kitchentte and showers. "The access hatch should be here."

You find the panel in the floor - a simple non-hydraulic hatch - and drop down to the layer underneath the 'floor'. Like a lot of spaceships, the rooms seemed to be large, pressurized chambers with a false floor to cover up all the required cabling and equipment. The space was crowded with pipes and running cabling on all sides, but a gap large enough for you to easily shimmy through.

GA2027 shows you a hatch in the floor. A proper hydraulic one this time, that lead through the pressure hull of this room. Another Abyss-powered lift and it cycles open, hitting you with-

You gag at the smell, immediately coughing and fighting the urge to vomit all over your shoes-

Medical subsystem: triggering antiemetic response.

-as your stomach tightens, then relaxes. After a few moments breathing with your mouth covered, the sensation passes, although it still reeked of human waste in the pipe. Like the girls bathroom except without the smell of sweat and prissiness. Leaning forward, you note with a degree of despair that the perimeter of the pipe is crusted with a thin, brown layer of...

"...maybe this isn't a good idea." You murmur.

"Standard procedure is to drain the sewage system before combat." GA2027 noted idly. "Although a break in the pipe somewhere seems to have allowed air into the circuit, judging by this evaporation."

"I don't think it's large enough for me to fit." You comment warily.

Sufficient.

"You can." GA2027 noted. "If a cramped fit."

"But, uh-" You look for a different reason. "What about disease? It can't be clean in there."

"I was under the impression a machine heart protected you from most diseases."

Medical subsystem partially online. Immune response OK.

"Eh, um..." You flounder.

>Do it. Crawl in there.
>No!
>[Write-In]
>>
>>4051275
>Do it. Crawl in there.
Engineering, or the other hangar probably has emergency decontamination showers somewhere, right?
>>
>>4051275
>Do it. Crawl in there.
>>
>>4051275
>No!
Smelly valkan girl gets detected and dissected
>>
>>4051275
>No!
>>
>tfw no valkan sewer depth groveller gf
>>
>>4051275
>No!
Miir girl found dead, heart missing.
>>
>>4051275
>Do it. Crawl in there.
>>
>>4051275
>Do it. Crawl in there
>>
>>4051275
>You find the panel in the floor - a simple non-hydraulic hatch - and drop down to the layer underneath the 'floor'. Like a lot of spaceships, the rooms seemed to be large, pressurized chambers with a false floor to cover up all the required cabling and equipment. The space was crowded with pipes and running cabling on all sides, but a gap large enough for you to easily shimmy through.
There's a crawlspace under the floor? So we could TK-bend the false floor to get around the blockage up above. That sounds a lot more viable than trying to move broken girders or whatever squashed the room above.
...Yeah, alright. Have a stalemate vote. If no one else chimes in the dice can decide.
>No!
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>Stalemate.
You all know the drill, 1d2- 1 for Yes, 2 for No.

>>4053190
Not exactly. Imagine the Tanoh is one huge box filled with scrap from top to bottom. A few really hardy pipes poke through the scrap, but they aren't holding up any of it.
>>
"No." You shake your head, backing up from the pipe. "Nope. Nu-uh. I'm not going in there."

"This was your idea, ma'am." GA2027 said flatly. "What other route is there?"

"I'm not crawling through sewage- I'm already going to have a hard enough time explaining all this dust, there's no way I can add sewage to that. Nobody will buy it." You swallow. "There has to be another way."

"Well." The scarab considered, staring at you. "There is a direct route to engineering that is freely accessible.

"What." You glower at it. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?!"

"...because it involves exiting the ship and entering one of the airlocks in engineering."

"Oh. Oh." You sigh. "And that would earn me a railgun shot through the everything, wouldn't it?"

"I am merely a repair scarab, ma'am. But I would presume so."

You sit and stare into the gloom ahead of you. In about the same spot as before- yep. The deck dissolved into a mess of steel and scrap metal. You'd thought about the Abyss and dismissed it before, but maybe...? If you increased your strength, you might be able to make a hole. Or shape one of the holes wider with telekinesis. Shapeshifting, too. But... um...

"...hey, the warskin you came from has weapons, right?"

"SX2404 is designated for combat, yes, ma'am?"

"Do you think it could use them to blast a hole through the debris?"

GA2027 stared at you for a long time. "I... supposed, ma'am? It would potentially wreck large reaches of the ship, but it's possible."

"Hm..." You consider. "And... what if I wanted to get a suit and bail?"

"Well. The ship is littered with... well, free suits of armor. I am not sure how you feel about secondhand civilian-grade armor, though."

"What about non-secondhand, non-civilian-grade armor?"

"They are manufactured in engineering."

"Not a spare suit on this side?"

"There is undoubtedly a spare suit on this side, but searching forty thousand people's personal possession across approximately thirty square kilometers of internal deck area is a task that could very well take days."

"...oh. Right, point."

>Let's get the help of the warskins, then.
>Nah, you've got this. Abyss power all the way.
>>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
>>[Sub-Option] Shimmy through and press the hole wider with your strength.
>>[Sub-Option] You haven't a clue how it works, but if you can turn into... like, a sea serpent you should fit.
>Take a 'free' suit of armor. It's not graverobbing if they were never buried.
>...well, why not take a walk outside?
>There has to be another plan you're not considering. (Write-In)
>>
>>4053482
>>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
>>
Archived: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4019100/
>>
>>4053482
>>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
>>
>>4053482
>Nah, you've got this. Abyss power all the way.
>>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
Check and see if they have been in contact with anything on the other side of the damaged section, the last thing we want to do right now is cause a miniature war on the inside of the Hull, because of conflicting orders.
>>
>>4053482
>>...well, why not take a walk outside?
>>
>>4053482
>Take a 'free' suit of armor. It's not graverobbing if they were never buried.
>>
>>4053339
Hmmmmm. I still can't imagine it. It sounds like a big box full of jumbled Lego. Did the ship really get scrambled that badly in the crash?

>>4053482
>Nah, you've got this. Abyss power all the way.
>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
Hopefully there's a desk somewhere in there. We're good at desks.
>>
>>4054359
Here's a diagram I hope communicates the idea more successfully. Like GA2027 explained, the decks become progressively more and more smushed together the closer you get to the ground. Because the supporting walls have cracked open, trying to shift anything in the column means fighting against the weight of everything above it.
>>
>>4054473
Ah, I think I get it now. The ship is a lot more intact than I thought, even if the bottom is a bit pancaked. And the break is a big avalanche of crushed bits.

The ship must have dug pretty far into the ground too, since we traveled downward to reach the lower hangar.
>>
File: whatamess.jpg (579 KB, 1024x683)
579 KB
579 KB JPG
>>4054473
I can imagine. Something like this, I presume.
>>
>>4054655
(except the other way up)

Actually, come to think of it we're damn lucky the ship crash-landed mostly the right way up and not upside down or on its side or at some other drunken angle.
>>
>>4054473
There must a decent amount of survivors out of that wreck. Let's say 25% died in the crash, 25% killed by Tagarans, 25% died since then from age and other causes. There would be around 10 thousand living Valkans and thousands of half Valkans from this ship alone.
>>
>>4054601
Wow, I had totally forgotten the description of Hull II going down from the intro thread.

>As you watch, the orange paint splattered on the ships lost it's color, turning dull and lifeless. It cracked in many places, stripping away entirely on the bottom side as if heavily weathered by sand and dust. With a mighty groan of twisting metal, the spine of the ship groaned under incredible age and ripped free of it's moorings, the mighty ship splitting in two. Hull II dipped below the others, dragged to the ground by invisible chains.

>Briefly it skimmed the coastal waters of Miir, before striking the sandy beaches of it's outskirts. Trees, stone and dirt blasted back from the impact, as Hull II's incredible mass forced them all aside and it embedded itself in the terrain like an abandoned woodsman's axe. The hyperspace window that it had been attempting to maintain the entire time suddenly blew in a brilliant red flare that spread out in a massive circle around it. Whatever screaming was in your ear raised in pitch as the flattened circle of plants instantly withered and died, rotting before exploding into a rebirth of life that flowed over the hull of the ship. The entire thing pitched back as the cliff it was embedded in finally gave in to years of erosion and it burst free, beaching itself permanently as the plants upon it eventually withered.

>They wilted into rotting wood again, then exploded into new sprouts- again and again. Each time, the ash rose a little higher, as hundreds of successive cycles of decay and renewal played out, and eventually, strange, alien plants grew and wormed their way through the dust, crawling on the hull and clinging to life. By the time you yourself clear the little strip of land that Miir was built upon, the final cycle had played, and the ocean that had blown back by Hull II's crash rushed in to claim the ship.

Crazy stuff. The crash wasn't even what snapped the ship in half.

>>4054735
Any survivors would have had to bail out before the final battle happened. Every living thing in and around the ship died. That's why we keep running into suits and planters filled with ash.
>>
>>4054735
I'll admit my back of napkin calculations isn't fantastic and that I'm no expert on physics, but with the help of wolfram alpha I can calculate the impact force experienced by the crew to be between 60-80Gs, with an upper bound of 133Gs. Valkans in general are quite a bit tougher than normal humans, but not all of them.

That plus the whole 'instant death field' thing.
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>>4054830
And still we keep finding suits sitting in their chairs even after all that. Valkan seatbelts are a helluva thing.
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>>4054838
The way I've been imagining it so I can write the description is that the suit is attached by several ports to the seat. Then I think about the crash and - relative to that portion of the ship - where the force would have wanted to take their body. Then I imagine how the suit would stretch about those ports to get to their final position.

A lot of the people who were sitting in chairs, for example, are described as having smashed visors because I imagine their heads being able to whiplash the most.
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>>4054846
The rampaging necromantic energy is somewhat concerning but the workplace safety standards are absolutely top notch.
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>Nah, you've got this. Abyss power all the way.
>[Sub-Option] Telekinesis, specifically. You have confidence in your powers.
Writing.
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You clamber out of the crawlspace, and glower at the pile of rubble and scrap. A few breaths steady you. The task was simple, your knowledge limited by the confined space you can see ahead of you- and with your senses. It's impossible to suppress the small grin as your power leaps to your direction as it's invoked. What used to be painful to hold back and difficult to harness was now... a joy. It was just a joy. Simple and easy.

Your senses probe out the wreckage ahead of you in waves, wrapping around the individual pieces of scrap and feeling out their sharp edges. There were no 'sharp' points that stood out in your mind, unlike the usual uses of your power. In fact, the sharpest thing was... well, you. More specifically, your clothes and your hair of all things stood out the most, damp and dust-caked as they were.

The feedback was fuzzy, the many small pieces of metal fading out into a fuzzy, homogeneous mass that blurred and shifted in your mind- but it was enough. There was a clear corridor of space in front of you, all you had to do was make it wider.

You push against the metal, your power unfurling to press against the entire underside of the mass of metal. To imagine it as spectral hands seemed... so crass for what it was. It was force, radiating out from nowhere against many sharp things and lift them.

Almost instinctively, you stretch out your hands. It feels stupid- like it would contribute nothing when all the lifting is being done with your mind. But the gestures sharpens your focus in a way you can't quite describe, ordering your power into a more direct exertion of your will.

The debris pile shifts and groans, metal shifting as it's lifted upwards. Small scraps that were embedded in the floor lifted tremulously up as the nebulous field gripped small pieces from underneath the ceiling of debris you were trying to lift. It radiates up through the mass of metal, causing small crashes as pockets of metal shift and slump on each other.

Frowning, you up the exertion, clumsily pouring effort into the act. It was like trying to force yourself to stop thinking, the more effort you put into the task, the more difficult it became to truly focus. You try to pull in your power, stop it from radiating out uselessly around you. A gust of wind blows out from the gap as you gather up the wayward tendrils of your power, whipping your skirt and hair around.

You close your hand into a fist and...

The hull moves.

A deep shuddering of metal roared through the structure of the ship as above you, just the barest amount of metal shifted up a scant few inches. The effect rippled into the upper decks, metal clanging against metal into the far reaches of the ship.
>>
>>4055294
Your concentration breaks, and you feel the energies scatter under you control, dispersing and gathering up formless again, ready to be used. Physically, you barely feel like you've moved, but mentally you feel... unfocused. The struggle of keeping your will in check having scrambled your mind, as if you were suddenly forced to solve a complex problem.

Idly, you look at your hand and stare in dull surprise at the inky blackness radiating from it, the cool ice crystals that have formed on your hair and skin melting as the energy leaves you. A faint shimmering in the air - glimmering bands of light that had formed above you and under the scrap - fades from existence. A far more physical manifestation of the Abyss than you were really used to.

Stepping back, you sink onto your butt. Partially so you can see what you just achieved, but also from the sheer shock of what you just did.

"...it's been decades since I last saw a creator work." GA2027 said, it's synthesized voice quieter than normal as it came to rest beside you.

It. It wasn't much. But the gap was wider. Enough for you to crawl through, at the very least- although you would be refamiliarizing yourself with claustrophobia as you did so. If you dared to try again, you might be able to make it even higher.

>Try again. Raise it higher.
>Crawl through as it is now. No need to push it. Uh, literally.
>...is it possible to make even more space by dropping the bottom out?
>[Write-In]

>Try to wake up Wander to help you.
>Let her... 'sleep'? Is that something shades needed to do?
>>
>>4055295
>Crawl through as it is now. No need to push it. Uh, literally.
Rather not risk destabilising anything else, and we're already filthy.
>Let her... 'sleep'? Is that something shades needed to do?
She'll be back when she wants to annoy us some more

There were probably a lot of browned pants on the outside just now. As for getting out of here without being turned into Swiss cheese or "disappearing", we'll burn that bridge when we come to it.
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>tfw you nearly forgot to make new thread
I'll count >>4055313 but uh, put the other votes in the new thread whoopsie.

>>4055315
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>>4055294
>Crawl through as it is now. No need to push it. Uh, literally.
>>
>>4055322
AND YOU. I'LL COUNT YOU. SEVENTEEN SECONDS ISN'T TOO LONG A GRACE PERIOD.
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>>4055324
It's okay I posted in the other thread already.



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