[Herald] Opus Insert

The Herald, Command Compartment
The two-for-one deal of a man was roused to wakefulness by the commander's prodding, soon extricating himself from dreamland with a yawn and a stretch. His face screwed up as he itched the sleep out of his eyes, and listened. Blinking as he assessed the command and gave it time to simmer in his brainpan, Danny sat up and looked towards his captain, flicking some residue from around his eyes away. "Yes'm," he said, leaning into his console and taking a look at what was before him on this fine day, night, or period of time. The blonde wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but he felt awake enough to process simple instructions.

"Well, ready or not, here we come, eh?" He glibbed, looking aside to the Lorthet. He knew these things were pests with their physical presence in towns and cities, and a social menace for how much they preyed on people's insecurities to force them into a vulnerable position, ripe for theft. There was a much bigger fish to flip for the bird after all, and Danny had to browse through the gathered information on the incoming system.

Gazing at the structures shown and quietly formulating a battle plan, he raised an eyebrow at the aesthetics and artwork of the place he and his new-found buddies were going to flip. "Huh, so that's what they do with a tax-exempt status," the blonde joked, pointing out the crenelations on the roof. "Makes it easy for us to hide along here - there's a blind spot over here, by the parapets - good vantage point, plenty of cover..."

As time went on, more and more little earmarks for nooks, crannies, and hiding places begun appearing on the map presented to him, primary assumption being that he and his colleagues were outnumbered, and had to eliminate targets without the rest of the station going on alert. He had to factor in 'five light years of time' into his bullet points, but figured he'd improvise, worse to worse. Most of the written and data components presented to Danny were gobbledygook, but looking at the dialect in the transcripts and visuals, he soon pieced a few words together based on the translation and transliteration of Robot and Kit.

"They keep saying 'magic' a lot," he said. Several minutes and a couple of confusing pages later, he could be heard chuckling. "I think this is a shopping list - for things I've never heard of." What were 'Greep Rout' and 'Eel Wrath Perl' anyway? 'Sproyute Tspagetti' sounded odd too - but if it earned a place on someone's grocery run, he could probably eat it too. After he broke into the writer's house and stole it for himself.

 

Herald - Command Compartment

In the moments following her own presentation of information Unit 00000002 found herself appreciative of the man's input, the suggestion of using the enemy structure as cover was a useful one. Though not entirely novel, it reinforced the idea that it might be wise to use the enemy's defenses against them rather than simply attempting to out perform local forces. As Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde turned his attention away from tactical suggestions toward the language parcel, Unit 00000002 shifted her own focus back to the Commander.

The wait was not long before the order was given, and the PSD was calibrated and attuned to the interior space within the Herald, the first of the Herald's few 'cards' turned face up. She was certain that the loss of information, assuming they were truly being monitored by the system ahead, would confuse their targets somewhat though she was fairly certain it would largely put them in a state of heightened alert. Another element to compensate for.

With the interior of the Herald shrouded by the PSD, the Commander began, laying out the general flow of the operation that stood before them, indicating what role each of their limited crew was to fill. For Unit 00000002, her job was simple. She was to clear a path for their ship to their primary objective, and then deposit her payload of operatives before providing overwatch support to both secure, and safeguard the station so that they might use it to facilitate their needs. A task that would limit the amount of punishment that could be redirected by utilizing the station itself as cover.

Herald – Unknown (Eldruid) System – Oort Cloud and Closing

As the Commander spoke her orders Unit 00000002 altered her mode of operation, connecting directly to the Herald's computing systems, putting her own body into standby, and for the moment borrowing the whole of the Herald as her corporeal form.

Immediately apparent was that within the system proper, a wealth of relatively up to date sensor information was available. The information coming in was delayed now by seconds rather than years as previously, and this wealth of new information poured into her awareness. The influx handled by the joined processing power of her own hardware, Kit, and the Herald's own dedicated computing systems, pooling together to process the myriad of information, began marking targets such as the mining vessels, platforms, and central cathedral station, as well as points of interest littered throughout the system.

In the moments before their drop out of FTL, Unit 00000002 send a short message to Kit, "Kit dear, would you keep the Commander appraised of any notable information?"

"Of course, do what you do best."

As they neared the end of their final approach in low-FTL Kit's voice once again graced the command compartment's internal comms, "Atmospheric fluid is being dispensed, transition to STL occurring in Five, Four..." As the countdown started the Herald's command compartment began to flood with atmospheric fluid once more, in preparation for combat. As Kit reached, 'one' the Herald dropped out of FTL, the obfuscating sensor noise from the Herald's wake drive dissolving.

"Beginning approach." Kit's cheerful voice intoned as under the cover of the active electromagnetic jamming signals and the psionic wail of the PSD, the Herald lanced forward a moment before a tugging on the occupants signaled that the maneuvering thrusters had been fired, shortly followed by a second lurch as they Herald's orientation shifted sharply again altering the Herald's course as Unit 00000002 began the first in a long string of adjustments that send the Herald into a randomly tumbling approach toward the first mining platform.

Nearing the platform, the scrambling of small vessels became increasingly apparent forming a screen between the drunken, rushing approach of the Herald while others lanced out in small wings of what could have been mining tugs of various makes or perhaps vessels of different mixed into their number. In its tumbling approach Herald's nose once again swung toward the mining platform, and the twin compressed packet particle cannons on the Herald's nose tracked it long enough to flare to life, slivers of antimatter lancing across the emptiness of space toward the relatively stationary target of the mining platform, prompting a new report from Kit, "Probing salvo fired, awaiting impact. Weapon parameters updated, future accuracy improved."

Moments later the sensors reported an odd phenomenon, a warping of the space between the Herald and the mining platform, looking superficially like a sheet of plastic wrap pressed inward by a massive finger as whatever defense the mining platform possessed attempted to interdict the packets fired in its direction. A moment later, the packets destabilized and a shower of glittering dust pushed past the defense drifting toward the station.

"Kinetic interdiction of an unknown type observed, munition still viable." As Kit made her cheerful report the cloud of relatively slow moving antimatter particles made contact with the surface of the station, blooming in a sheet of light.

"Probing salvo hit confirmed, damage to enemy platform presently unknown. Enemy spacecraft nearing engagement range. Reducing speed to improve sensor resolution on moving targets. Beginning engagement."

Tumbling toward the approaching enemy ships engines first, the Herald decelerated rapidly, spun, and fired her engines once more in a magnificent bloom sending her off on a path that kept her relatively perpendicular to the advancing forces. Once again the maneuvering thrusters fired introducing a new spin to her hull as the twin arms bearing the smaller combined packet rifles deployed. Servos silently worked oriented bringing their weapons into position for the anticipated rotation and allowing her to aim true as the Herald twisted, and slipped away from the first volley of solid munitions to rush with a feral slavering lust toward her hull.

The smaller point defense weapons of the Herald came alive in bursts dictated by the drunken twisting motion of the ship to intercept trailing missiles or creating blossoming flashes that gouged deep glowing wounds in the reinforced hulls of the mining ships. Even in her drunken dance as she tumbled amid the enemy fire in a manner that in an earlier age would have been considered a fatal tumbling spin, the Herald's smaller weapons struck true, a ship was knocked into a spin as a flash of antimatter scraped a missile rack and nearby cannon mount from the vessel while also nearly tearing one of the heavy manipulation arms from its armored socket. In the same instant, it's wingman smashed into an undamaged ship as the port side thrusters erupted in a blossom of explosions triggered by a secondary burst of packets. As one of their number tried to turn tail and flee, a brief flicker was all that forwarned the detonation of the ship's main engine systems as the antimatter made contact with the plume of exhaust.

When the Herald's larger cannons came to bear, accuracy was much less of an issue as the heavier weapons left death in their wake, their heavier payloads more than sufficient to turn the industrial plating of the defending vessels into glowing hulks of half-molten metal or incandescent clouds of debris. As men screamed, died, and desperately tried to fire upon the drunken motion of the Herald, her dance without fail carried her away from the panicked sprays of munitions. Her superficially random shifts of direction began to take on a feeling of mocking pre-cognition, made bitter as her weapons continued to bring death to those who challenged her entry to the system. For Unit 00000002, awkward motions; the insane twists, jack-knifes, and abrupt changes in the Herald's movement were managed with a delicate touch, brief flares of the maneuvering thrusters and the Herald's main engines kept the Herald's intoxicated dance moving closer toward the main body of the enemy vessels, as well as the platform behind which they guarded. Her unpredictable motion through space served to give the enemy no opportunity to anticipate the path that she might take, and ensure that she would reach her goal safely.

Tumbling into the heart of the enemy's defensive formation with a sudden burst of speed, the Herald in the moment of confusion and before the enemy could retrain their weapons illuminated the space around her. The previously unused plasma vent strips on her fore and aft, back and belly came to life, their hungry lashes of superheated matter reaching out to all they could touch, cutting hot wounds across the hull of any ship unfortunate enough to feel her embrace. Packets of antimatter lanced through the growing cloud of debris chasing any out of the reach of the vent strips, or those which had turned to fleet the abrupt carnage.

Reacting to a sudden building spike in the whine of the PSD, the Herald fired her engines lancing out of the heart of the enemy formation, narrowly avoiding a chain of explosions that followed silently in her wake in a much like fireworks seen up close. Unsettled by the lack of detected munitions which should have fortold such an onslaught, Unit 00000002 wondered just what surprises the residents of this system, or this universe for that matter held.

Continuing on, the Herald in a rough sweeping arc drifted in a mock orbit around the mining platform away from it's slagged surface where the initial shots had impacted. The motion put her opposite the main body of the enemy force and gave a view of windows looking out into space as well as sealed ports which likely handled material and mining tug traffic. As she moved, the Herald opened fire focusing her weapons and showering the platform in a stream of antimatter, the articulated turrets cutting sweeping lines on the surface of the platform while the forward mounted cannons left gouges in the hull where the packets sank into the material.

The onslaught proved quickly to be too much as the platform which had been expected to survive quite a beating broke up, the warped pieces torn apart by the antimatter detonations rapidly scattered, forming a shotgun spread of debris which lanced outward into the disorganized ranks of the few defenders who remained whole near the platform, while tearing apart any disabled ships on the far side likely killing any who had managed to survive. Following the destruction of the mining platform, only a moment was taken to confirm that there were no remaining high priority targets in the immediate area before Unit 0000002 turned the Herald toward their primary goal the cathedral station.

As Kit reported cheerfully, "Target one eliminated, progressing toward target two." Unit 00000002 accelerated away from the field of debris soon engaging the Herald's wake drive once more driving them toward on of the system's many mining platforms and the eventual goal of the gas giant and their primary objective.

Herald - Unkown (Eldruid) System - Gas Giant Orbit Cathedral Station Approach

In a little over three hours, the Herald had traveled across the system visiting the various mining platforms along the way as they progressed in the system. Each time she had left floating graves in her wake. Her banshee wail rang out silencing the voices of those she visited, effectively keeping the numerically superior residents of the system from coordinating a defense and leaving the Herald largely free to hunt those left unprotected. Near the end of her grand tour, however, it had become apparent that the goals of the locals had shifted, with the last mining platform they had visited being abandoned and the one before it in the process of evacuating. Now as the Herald rounded the vast curve of the gas giant it became apparent that the locals had opted for an attempt at a last stand.

"Primary objective, Cathedral Station sighted. Preparing for final approach." Kit's gleeful voice once again called out, "It is recommended that Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde, the Lorthet, and yourself prepare for a hot drop Commander... Three frigates of similar make to the one which we chased down trying to flee the system have been identified amid the enemy small craft. After initial disruption of the enemy forces, we will discretely deposit Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde, and yourself for your operations before attempting to draw away the bulk of the enemy units in anticipation for the arrival of the ships of the sunward mining outposts."

As Kit spoke, Unit 00000002 prepared for her portion of the task bringing the as of yet dormant R88 online and verifying that it was in fact provided with high yield antimatter munitions. The preparations made, the Herald began to accelerate toward the enemy formation her packet cannons firing in a sequence aiming for the three largest ships before them while also covering the firing of the R88, the shell preceding the Herald as a silent agent of death covered by the more familiar discharges of the Herald's previously demonstrated weapons systems. At this time the Herald also twisted, launching herself away from the incoming net of weapons fire that hoped to catch her in its grasp moving in an over exaggerated arc well away from any potential attempts to cover the Herald's escape vectors before once again beginning a careful approach toward the station as the first salvo made contact with the larger less maneuverable ships.

Two of the ships held fast, their odd defenses much like those demonstrated by the mining platforms and the sprinkling of antimatter would knowingly cause only superficial damage, however, the center ship's bow buckled as the R88's slug impacted followed an instant later with a clean white flash as the compressed antimatter broke containment and detonated within the belly of the frigate. As the gutted ship's sisters dealt with the explosion and tried to compensate following the impact of the cloud of debris, the Herald lanced forward a burst of speed and a change of tactics plunging her through the void created in the middle. As she plunged through the heart of the enemy formation, the missile pods on her topside and belly snapped open disgorging her precious store of munitions into the heart of the enemy formation, the small missiles peeling away from the Herald's path and into the heart of the enemy formation smaller antimatter blossoms complimenting those delivered by her packet rifles as they swept through the gathered enemies.

Decelerating rapidly, the Herald angled around and behind the cathedral station, coming to a stop on the far side and briefly lapped at its surface with the plasma vent strips, before waiting for the crew to disembark and begin the second phase of their mission.

 

The Herald, On Approach to Unknown System
The approach part of the plan which was being outlined made enough sense to the wetworker. It'd been a very long time since he had an employer able to supply all his tools up front. Passing them over in his hand and putting them aside for when they were all necessary, Danny was confident the gear supplied by Korr'ih would do the job. For now, more pressing matters were calling, attention directed towards his operations station before he and the captain made the approach.

♫ XIII OST - SSH-1 Military Base - Total Red ♫

With a little assistances and adjustments made on the fly by the Kit, Danny was pointing a guidance laser towards the intended targets, snapping towards incoming threats as necessary. From his screen, all the blonde had to do was designate the point, and let the sensors on the munitions do the rest. Little pops and lights kept on appearing as targets were confirmed hit.

Though he showed competence in making sure targets hit their mark, this wasn't what he was meant to be doing for long, nor was it where his passion laid. "You take over the rest, I gotta suit up," Danny said, standing up and delegating his duties to the Kit, and eagerly leaping out to suit up.

Amongst the possessions he'd brought along a long, straight edged sword with a powered blade, and a pistol with a suppressor attached, both in a long, thin attaché case. The handgun felt a little different when he picked it up, but inspecting the weapon revealed no egregious changes from when he last handled it a long long time ago. Giving the blade a brief power on, he saw the energised cutting edge, grin creeping across his face. Huh, this'll do if the bombs don't go off.

It was t-minus a minute until Danny and Korr'ih were due to breach the station together. He had a backpack full of satchel charges, some shiny new duds, and half a pack of cigarettes. It was pitch black in the void of space, lit by the explosions made by the Herald's boisterous approach, and his visor's sheen reflected the carnage displayed around him. And in this moment, the two-in-one deal of a man was ready to shine. "Hit it." He said, pointing ahead at the airlock.

 

The Herald, On Target
With another look at how laden Korr'ih had made herself prior to pushing off and making, Robert had nothing but appreciation for a woman so well armed - a blush filtered across Danny's face. Translating the desire into practical terms, Danny grabbed himself an additional piece of equipment from the locker: A rifle of some description, capable of hurling bolts of plasma at targets. Fobbing with it a little, Danny double checked if the bayonet was still sharp - and it popping out from under the barrel with an audible schwing.

Danny's inner maniac relished the opportunity to have some stronger hardware than a little pistol - with that, the two could set off on their mission with the Captain in confidence. "Yes'm," Danny replied, looking out into space and rolling his shoulders. The blonde quickly instructed the HUD of his specified locations for demolition in order of need: Weapons, sensors, communications, launch bay doors, and then anything else which seemed important.

Ideally, he would have to place ten charges, so he packed fifteen; A little extra ... care was always necessary for tasks like this - worse to worse they could thrown at the enemy and blown up in mid-air like clumsy grenades; Robert had done it once before in a getaway with pipe bombs and it worked well enough.

Spotting his point of approach coming up, Danny jetted out into the darkness in his WIND and GUST, landing against the exterior of the battered platform and rolling against a parapet. His HUD highlighted all the spots necessary. First, the rogue was scampering along the surface of the structure, wasting no time out in the open on the platform. "Approaching target," he said, relaying to Korr'ih and the Robot as he spotted a coilgun array with a block of explosives' name on it.

In the midst of the chaos caused by the Herald's sudden entry, a lone humanoid against the surface of a space station could be ignored in favour of the much more obvious target. At least with the Robot at the controls, Danny could ensure all eyes were on her, and there wouldn't be any friendly fire.

Watching the gun barrels and ensuring they were pointed away from his person, and at the threat in the skies, the blonde stayed low as the turrets tracked the Herald. When it finished firing, Danny sprinted in with a brick of explosives and slammed it against the underside of the turret house, mindful of the rotating structure. He repeated the process for the next gun in the array, and again for the third.

Not wishing to waste time, Danny absconded quickly with his detonator wrapped around a lanyard on his wrist. "That's one set of guns done, now going for the antennae array up top." He said, with the detonator in his hand and ready to squeeze. "Korr'ih, how are the locals?" After all, Korr'ih was huge, and covered in guns. Danny was not huge, and only partially covered in gun - he needed to know what sort of resistance was inside once he'd wrapped up.

 

Herald - Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station Proximity

For just a little less than a minute, the Herald had hung in space eclipsed by the station which formed the heart of their operation. In this time the airlock cycled, and two individuals were deposited near the surface of the station, visually insignificant yet they brought a doom with them.

In the moments before the two left the airlock Unit 00000002 spoke up, her soft steady voice feeding through the comm line, "Mission parameters are acknowledged Commander, none shall be spared." After a pause, she added in farewell, "May the Goddess watch over you and may your aim be true. Both of you."

The seconds following as the airlock closed, and the Herald was for the moment left devoid of the majority of her active crew spoke of cold things and death. As if to counter this Kit's voice filled the void with her customary jovial warmth, "Now it's just the two of us~ A shame for the locals really. Shall we return to our duty?"

In the seconds that passed as the small forms of the Commander, and Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde drifted free of the Herald and to a safe distance from her hull, maneuvering thrusters fired pushing the Herald away from the surface of the station and her main engines came to life a silent fountain of plasma briefly illuminating the station, casting stark shadows across its surface for only a moment before the Herald shot off becoming a dwindling point of light as tens of kilometers became hundreds, and then thousands.

Herald - Unknown (Eldruid) System

"It's a shame," Unit 00000002 began as the Herald once again plunged into the heart of the local forces, "We could have learned much here, discovered whether those who inhabit this existence are kindly... Though I suppose they would have tried to exploit us for their own benefit. Just like all the others." Who exactly the others were she could not clearly remember, though the lessons learned remained fresh and vivid, imparting a wariness that refused to rest.

For a moment there was silence in the Herald, a silence beyond what she had known previously. No messages sent, no sounds of fidgeting or breath. Once again a cold stillness as the Herald twisted through space, narrowing the margins of her escapes from enemy retributions and carefully mimicking the symptoms of component failure. Brief interruptions in her engine output making sending her off of her intended course, weapons seeming to slow in their output, little things to give the enemy hope, to draw them in and think that finally, their enemy was tiring. That they might finally land the shot upon her alien hull that would make them heroic avengers of their fallen kin.

Once again Kit broke the silence her joy tempered slightly by a tone of hopefulness, "Perhaps this time things will be better? We already have less reason to be afraid. More importantly, we have much to look forward to; new friends, new opportunities, a fresh start. Our situation is already much better, we just need to reach out and grasp our future, our prosperity. You'll see soon enough."

The moment of Kit's talk of hopeful beginnings mirrored the moment that the Herald began her retaliation. The enemy flotilla had been coaxed away from its post defending the cathedral station by a mixture of threat and the cultivated belief that the Herald was soon done for, a feeling that only swelled as the Herald seemed to blunder into the reinforcements of the sunward mining platforms. One that died as quickly as it came, with the realization that neither group could open fire without risking damage to friendly forces.

An answer to this conundrum came in the form of a series of accurate fire from the Herald's main particle cannons preceding the deployment of the R88 on her belly. Accelerated slugs lanced dumbly through space hidden by the energetic sprays of antimatter and plasma from the Herald. The remaining five rounds in the cylinder punched through the bows of an incoming trio of defending frigates, warping the structures and knocking the frigates off course for a moment before the antimatter broke containment and blossomed deep within their hulls.

Negating her forward momentum the Herald fell back toward the pursuing forces the Herald drifted over antimatter scarred upper deck of one of the two remaining frigates. Drifting amid the twisted and warped deck guns the Herald used the larger ship as cover momentarily the Herald waited patiently as she approached center-mass of the vessel slowly pitching upward in the moment before her four engines flared to life in parallel with the vent strips. The Herald lashed the surface of the vessel with arcing plasma leaving white glowing rends in the hull, while the Herald's engines poured a plume of plasma into the heart of the vessel burning a deep wound in the top of the frigate before filling its halls with superheated matter.

As the Herald darted away driven by her engine burn, the frigate twisted in space, navigation likely forgotten, as the crews struggled to perform damage control. Twisting back the Herald continued to cling to the hull of the larger vessel, using the frigate as cover buying herself the time that it took for the wreckage of the sunward frigates to arrive, tearing into the wounded frigate which the Herald shadowed, and sowing chaos into the smallcraft that had remained to try and defend their kin.

In this cloud of debris, the Herald began her drunken dance in earnest once more, weaving between misshapen twisted ruins of the enemy vessels. Antimatter from her cannons and packet rifles tore into the enemy forces, those unlucky enough to near the Herald were bled by arcing plasma or the inferno of her engines. Slowly the drifting cloud of debris grew, illuminated by glittering secondary explosions as crippled ships suffered critical powerplant failures, or as guided munitions failed to navigate the debris and detonated prematurely.

Eventually, the Herald's dance came to an end, the final fleeing frigate and a host of small craft having been torn apart by the Herald's R88 and a relatively brief engagement, leaving a third mass of glowing, glittering graves in the Herald's wake.

The mining platforms left undefended save for token forces in the sunward portions of the system were visited, greeted with further pyrotechnics, and left drifting in their own stellar clouds, while the planet-side installations on the metallic planetoids were obliterated from above leaving irradiated craters in the wake of the Herald's passing.

Soon the system was as quiet as the Herald herself.

As the Herald made it's meandering path back toward the cathedral station, revisiting her previous handiwork to comb for any potential survivors, Unit 00000002 spoke up, "You're right... Of course. I will try to make the most of this opportunity. It would be a shame for all of this to have been for nothing."

As the Herald neared the cathedral station it's marred architectural beauty coming into view a moment of curiosity was shared between the two artificial women. Had their companions fared as well as they in their tasks? Who would be providing the welcome to their return? Soon enough they would see.

 

Cathedral Station, Exterior by Antennae Array
Taking cover amid the greebles and indentations, Danny watched small drones get deployed - shooting out from thin holes and skimming over the surface of the station towards the guns, inspecting what had been placed there. The blonde watched them land and skitter under the housing. His thumb sat on the detonator, and with a squeeze, the three coilguns erupted into balls of white. The barrels flew away in arcs while the turret housing had been punctured from underneath - ferrous slugs drifting away from the gun's magazine.

The news that there was nothing too strange about the occupants of the station took a weight from his shoulders. "One gun bank's down; I should have nothing to worry about then." Danny said, looking ahead to assess where his next satchel would go. Communications arrays weren't just skin deep - as the antennae can be replaced easily enough, but the computers transmitting and receiving data beneath the layers of hull armouring were considerably harder to come by.

Jimmying a round exhaust port open, Danny pushed an explosive charge through the hole using the scabbard of his sword, stuffing it in. Withdrawing and boosting his way towards the "starboard" side guns of the orbital structure - and pursued by low-flying drones, he squeezed the detonator again. The flash shot upwards, parallel to the antennae before the bulkhead bulged from underneath, ripped open by the blast.

The chips and boards from computer systems and processors drifted through the air from a tangled crater. The repair and assessment drones wobbled before they lost control. A nasty-looking one drifted past Danny before smacking into the turret behind him. Ducking beneath a swinging barrel tracking the Herlad, and approaching the housing with a bomb in hand, the rogue laid the bombs one by one. "Radio's out," he said, beelining for a launch bay's field generator.

As the last of the coilguns went up in white lights and twisted metal, Danny placed a charge just below the docking bay's field projectors. He had a plan to swoop right in amidst the chaos when the life support went sour and the field keeping the life inside went out for the docking area. Blast shutters couldn't outrun a determined sapper. "Korr'ih, I'm about to smash their garage door open, and I'm going in." He waited for a reply, or an acknowledgement. Nothing came. She was either focussing on what Robert presumed was beautiful carnage - or something had gone wrong.

In either case, Danny's job was to press on - literally.

 

Cathedral Station, Main Hangar
There was a bit of radio silence before Danny got back into contact with Korr'ih - the sound of bumps heard before a grate could be heard clattering loudly on his end as it fell from the vent he was crawling through. "My bad. I'll get the Herald in and get back to you ASAP." Marking Korr'ih's position down as the next thing to do, he looked about where the maintenance passage had lead.

Danny poked cautiously, keeping an eye out for threats. The charred and ripped bodies strewn about the hangar - a result of either Korr'ih or the Herald's bombardments - barely moved him. If anything Robert needed to compliment Korr'ih and the Robot for being thorough when he caught up with them. Sticking close to the walls as he slithered out, he eyeballed the hangar's area, checking out a spot for the Herald. A quick recall of the ship's dimensions showed there was plenty of room. There was a smaller vessel the rogue was entirely unfamiliar with nearby, but it could be pushed about.

However, getting the ship inside would involve clearing it in. Danny had ensured the main guns wouldn't be a problem for the ship, neither would a distress signal (and then some), but he had reservations about the hangar's automated security. He was especially quizzical at the stone façade on the back wall, and as his gaze travelled up the masonry, Danny spotted windows with a good view of the docking bay. The views protruded from a tower, its main floor spreading out and integrating with the ceiling - a feat impossible with archaic techniques of construction. At the foot of the control tower was a hollow leading towards an elevator, but the doors were stuck and the elevator car seemed to be ajar - reeking terribly of ash and smoke.

"Herald, I'm investigating a control tower inside a hangar on the station." Danny said, Brushing fingertips across the tower's walls and grunting, the rogue took to scaling the structure, boosting upwards. Fingertips and toes wedged themselves into cracks in the ageing stone around the window, and the rogue couldn't help but wonder - who would decorate a ship like this, and moreover - why? Stone, wood, and other natural materials were for a house, or the furniture in a Captain's office. "I'll see if I can get you cleared to land. Stay on the line..."

He took the window by its sill, swivelled and kicked through the glass. The interior of the control room was a mess - much like the rest of the station so far. Spotting a highly relaxed (and burnt) fellow at the controls of a console Danny was unfamiliar with which was still blinking, the blonde dislodged the corpse with a muttered 'excuse me' and a heave ho, taking their place and examining what was available.

"Alright, I have visual and connection on some sort of aerospace traffic control system," as he examined the interface and watched the letters and runes go by, the interface of his WIND started making sense of it all - replacing strings and phrases of gibber with words he could read like 'Clearances', 'Close Range Radar', and 'Defence Controls'. All useful things. "Patching you through..."

With a little guidance, Danny dove into the traffic control system, disabling a series of small point defence weapons which lined the Hangar's exit, and officially letting the Herald dock - giving it a cheeky name of 'TEST TEST 123' as a designation to please the Clearance system's name requirements. With the rest able to take care of itself and the Herald given a clear way in, he stood up and looked into the structure of the space station through a cracked sliding door. The operations level wasn't far away - and along the way, Danny became suspicious of the amount of wood integrated into the space station's construction.

Even if it was intended to decorative, it was a bit much.

 

Herald - Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station Proximity

As the Herald continued her orbit around the gas giant toward the cathedral station she was once again filled with a largely unbroken silence. Only the occasional plume of plasma signifying a retrograde engine burn to slow her approach to the station in preparation for docking indicated her continued function. In this silence, the Herald listened. She listened to the scattered radio-frequency noise lingering in the system from her, she listened to the occasional burst of communication from her allies upon and within the cathedral station, and she listened for what was not found: survivors.

With the Herald's attention focused on watching cooling clouds of wreckage, the drifting graves the last testament to those who had lived, toiled, and dreamed in this place, a second lesser silence was conveniently ignored. This was the lack of conversation between the two active occupants of the Herald. Fragments of memory and an almost instinctual certainty suggested that in other times there would have been a near constant stream of conversation between Unit 00000002 and her companion. In this moment there was nothing to talk about that was desired to talk about. Without a greater pool of knowledge to draw upon their topics were limited, and of those limited topics most were painful, largely due to the helpless state that they found themselves in.

After all what good would it do Unit 00000002 to talk about Taela? The constant reminded of her injured state sat silently in place, the frozen pod containing the last hopes that someone else would remember who Unit 00000002 had been. More than merely the desire to reclaim some of her identity was the desire to see someone who she knew as a friend, one of few, once more. Uncomfortable in this silence, Unit 00000002 once again reviewed the sensor information as it streamed in updating second by second as the electromagnetic emissions reached the Herald and found no comfort in the knowledge that nothing was out of the ordinary and that none in her wake had attempted to play dead either by design or merely by accident having been temporarily disabled but not sufficiently damaged to ensure death in the Herald's passing.

Still without comfort and with the anxiety lingering Unit 00000002 briefly considered terminating their emotional function to bring clarity and ensure a pure focus upon the mission. While it was simple to see that this action would ease the discomfort, it was also clear that it would merely put Unit 00000002 into a state of idleness as she and "Kit" closed the last few thousand kilometers to the station. Instead of choosing this stillness and further silence, Unit 00000002 chose to pray.

She gave her quiet thanks to the Goddess; thankful for their survival in this new reality, thankful for their relative good health and condition, thankful for their opportunity to overcome and learn from the problems which they encountered. She expressed her thanks for the foresight and dedication of the Goddess' children enabling their success, and for the Goddess' watchful guidance in a foreign place. Unit 00000002 then spoke of her fears, of rejection, of ostracism. She spoke of her fear of losing those who she cared for, those few friends she treasured, and those who she respected, companions in arms and purpose. She expressed her hopes that not only would they succeed through their diligence and efforts but also that they might find contentment and joy in their futures. In the end what she desired was welfare and happiness for those with her, and those who would follow.

Settling into a thoughtful silence as Unit 00000002 wondered what more she should say a directed message from the station played in her head informing of the limited effect of the PSD within the station. Refocusing upon the station before her Unit 00000002 broke out of the Herald's languid orbital trajectory angling off away from the station with a sudden plume of plasma sending the Herald hurtling into one of Unit 00000002's preferred randomized manoeuvres unwilling to risk the Herald falling victim to the activities of those who might remain alive aboard the station. It would be a great failing to allow complacency to destroy their future.

Making the approach to the station little by little, Unit 00000002 scanned the architecture of the station, looking for thermal signatures or visual silhouettes in the arches, arcades, facades, and spires of the station, ensuring that no one had managed to slip past the Commander and Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde as their performed their tasks and into the relative safety of a spacewalk where they might potentially surprise the invaders.

Settling into an erratic orbital pattern around the station, Unit 00000002 waited only a few minutes before the all-clear was given from within. The station had been purged, and a hangar had been secured. Referencing but not relying on the station's guides, Unit 00000002 navigated the Herald into the station before coming to a careful stop within. Keeping the weapons active, particularly the vent strips and the arm mounted packet rifles, carefully switched to plasma rather than antimatter munitions, Unit 00000002 transferred control of the Herald to "Kit" before disconnecting from the ship's system herself.

While not necessarily needed to venture into the station herself, Unit 00000002 wanted to ensure that she was on active standby assuming that her presence was needed for any tasks within, be they resource or information acquisition or any other task which may present itself. Opening her eyes Unit 00000002 briefly cast her vision about the command compartment of the Herald before reporting over the communication line, "The Herald has been docked within the station. We are presently maintaining an active vigil and are on standby for the next phase of our operation."

 

Cathedral Station, Operations Room
The sound of metal smashing against metal could be heard, followed by creaking - then a grunt. A door in the far end of the room slowly wedged open, a jimmying bar poking through before Danny's hands wormed in to push the rest of the door open. Twirling the pry bar before putting it away, he advanced into the room. Along the way there,

♫ Axiom Verge - Otherworld ♫

"I will say this - these guys knew how to decorate..." Danny said, boot atop the singed remains of one of the 'Maggies' as he cast his gaze around the chaos of the operations room. The stink of ozone lingered in the air, but the rogue was unsure of the cause. As he passed by a bank of bridge consoles, he saw Korr'ih slumped against the wall. Danny cursed and hustled over. The bird was nearby too, so he swatted the ball of feathers and sociopathy out of the way to make room for his medkit and its contents In particular, he wasn't sure he had enough burn cream, disinfectant, stimulant, and gel bandages for what he was working with, and Korr'ih would need additional attention when she was back on the Herald.

In a triage, the Lorath woman would be considered a priority - the extent of their injuries meant if they were unanswered for much longer her chances of survival dwindled. "...multiple burns, several impact wounds, some internal bleeding, bruising all around..." As Danny assessed the damage upon the captain, he noticed a contrast between skin under her armour - and skin exposed to the elements. It was though she was blasted with an ultraviolet light at close range, or found time to work on her tan without taking off her armour. The former was much more likely - but his train of thought was interrupted by a peck on the back of his hand.

Driven to ire, Robert summarised his thoughts eloquently in grumble: "Fuck off y' flying pillow!" Looking at the owl-like creature, he decided to give it something to do, "make yourself useful and search the bodies for change or something." He pointed to one of the Maggies - whose head had been jellied by a large calibre pistol. Looking back down, Danny noticed that his other hand had wandered up Korr'ih's neck, and he lifted it away to resume applying antiseptic salve to a burn across her shoulder where the armour had simply turned to ash and char. She -is- hot though. Robert nudged within the man's head.

Smoking hot. Literally. Danny replied dryly - the amount of damage he'd examined made his stomach turn - but it was all part of the job. Look, when this is over I'll take us to the most reputable house of ill repute the Lorath have - or something. A jingle rung out a as coins rolled across the floor, a silvery one coming to rest by a jar of ointment. Danny tried reaching for it, but the Lorthet snapped it up and trundled back to their growing pile of ill gotten gains with an annoyed flap. No promises.

Soon, Korr'ih was in a much better state than when Danny found them, and he figured it was time to examine the consoles to see if there was anything worth gleaning from it all. The elaboration in what was left of the operations room was highly flammable - wooden-framed chairs were where they really shouldn't be, veneers and layers of varnish and gold-leaf scorched off while the cushions were blackened. Upon one such chair at a fizzling console, Danny had to plant himself down and get to business, relaying what he'd seen, and reading the interface before him.

"Sitrep," Danny relayed to the sole occupant of the Herald, "Korr'ih's pretty banged up. I provided some medical aid - and I'll need some assistance getting her back for further treatment. The station belongs to us, and I don't envy whoever's cleaning this up after-" The chair he was sitting on creaked and it was all the warning Danny had before it fell apart beneath him. From the floor, he gave the Lorthet the stink eye to shut their hooty heckling up before getting up and continuing: "Anyway - I don't envy whoever's cleaning this up. Lotta dead bodies, most of them ridiculous looking."

Looking back down at Korr'ih and realising how large she was, he made an addendum. "See if there's a trolley we can take Korr'ih on in the Herald or on the way here? We need to move them carefully."

 

Herald - Command Compartment

"Acknowledged Sir. I will be on location momentarily."

Upon receiving the report from Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Frode, who coincidentally was as of that moment her acting CO, Unit 00000002 disconnected from the access jacks in her seat leaving Kit in charge of the Herald's safety. Releasing herself from her seat's harness, Unit 00000002 pulled herself around the edge of her seat, gently kicking off and swimming the length of the command compartment through the atmospheric fluid before cycling the door and letting herself into the rest of the Herald proper. As the Herald's systems reclaimed the escaped atmospheric fluid in tandem with the Command Compartment once again beginning to drain in preparation for the Commander's treatment, Unit 00000002 progressed to the airlock, trading her pilot's helm for her Wind's hood and taking a Deshe'vo along just in case she might need to reaffirm that one of the locals was indeed dead.

Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station, Interior

As the Herald's airlock cycled the smallest of the forms to emerge from its shelter descended to the floor of the hangar below before skipping off into the depths of the Cathedral Station. Long legged loping motions took the small form through the halls of the station quickly and after applying a bit of logic and the information gleaned by their translation efforts Unit 00000002 was soon encouraging a door to allow her entry to a sealed medical wing. With a bit more care Unit 00000002, slowed as much as she dared, nosing around the comparatively stark chambers until she found that which she sought; a gurney. Thankfully this alien existence held a recognizable design, and hopefully, it would be of a respectable construction standard. After a moment determining how best to hold the object with a single hand so as to leave her weapon free, Unit 00000002 resumed her bounding progress working her way toward the center of the station.

Upon arriving in the operations center of the station, no time was given to observe the oddly dressed bodies, nor the broken chair. Instead, Unit 00000002 laid the collapsed gurney out beside the commander ready to transfer the incapacitated woman with the help of Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde. After the Commander had been secured aboard the Herald and in the care of the command chair's medical functions, Unit 00000002 supposed that the task of material and information acquisition would begin in the final moments before their departure from this strange place, and the culmination of their mission.

 

Cathedral Station, Operations Room
The blonde nodded at his captain, carefully raising the medical bed off the ground, then taking it with one hand. "I'll catch you back on the Herald," he said some parting words to the robot as he guided the trolley between two of the maggies the Lorthet had rifled through, "see if there's a kitchen on this place and raid it for some victory snacks, once you get the essentials sorted aye?"

With that, he double backed the way he came and down some stairs with a pistol in his off hand, and into the hangar with his charge. As Danny made his way down the hall to the hangar and past a row of singed vending machines, he heard the sound of moaning and someone dragging themselves. The rogue repositioned himself ahead of Korr'ih to meet the source of the noise with his gun, eyes on the floor.

It didn't take long for Danny to confirm his suspicions, spotting someone - probably mining staff - on their hands and knees trying to get to the hangar. It was an admirable feat given Korr'ih's level of destruction and the guy's physical condition, but a mission was a mission; The blonde levelled his pistol at them. "Tough luck, mate." Robert said, popping two shots into the former survivor's head. Danny wasn't even sure if the native understood what he said, but the problem was dealt with - he took Korr'ih into the hangar and up the ramp of the Herald.


The Herald, Command Compartment
Arriving through the airlock with the trolley and collapsing one of the side rails to shift Korr'ih easier, Danny reconfigured her chair into a reclining position parallel to the wounded Lorath. "Got us a big patient here," he announced to 'Kit' as he shifted them onto the gel seating, and tapped a few commands on their chair to encapsulate and begin healing the commander with better advanced picojelly and nanite technology than the blonde could provide in the field.

"She's a tough nut; Got hit by what looks like an instant sunrise." Danny commented as the bed begun doing its work, the sounds of jelly flowing and moving within the capsule as feedback chirps were logging the commander's status. "Maybe their security guys had some kinda superheater weapon or something."

And she kept her shit tight. Robert added as Danny took a seat in his chair, kicking his feet up and supervising Korr'ih's vital signs on his display. Not like any of them mealy-mouthed gold diggers and shirkers I've worked with before.

Like the one woman that who shot us in the head? Danny pondered back. He took Robert's silence as agreement - at least the two men had something to agree on. Watching the signs stabilising and Korr'ih's circulation beginning to return to a normal rhythm, the blonde figured the rest could take care of itself and he could relax. "Say, Kit," Danny said, trying to strike up some idle chatter as he waited on the robot, or any further orders, "I saw some vending machines on the way here, makes me wonder what the local snacks are like, and if they'd survive the return trip or something."

 

Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station - Operations Center

Left to her own devices as Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde departed with the Commander, Unit 00000002 was quick to set to work fulfilling the Commander's order. The first task, was the loot the dead. Traversing to the one elaborately dressed collection of carbon and began her rendition of the ancient art of corpse looting. Her primary goal was some form of command credentials, unfortunately, it seemed that anything of note upon the primary option was destroyed in whatever conflagration consumed the body.

This disappointment led Unit 00000002 back toward the relatively whole corpses of the first two oddly garbed individuals that she had seen on the floor, and after a few moments she had acquired a pair of similar key-cards identifying the pair as Erika and Cyril Bluesmile the shared name suggesting to Unit 00000002 that they had either been married or siblings. The detail of their identities was ultimately forgotten as Unit 00000002 pulled a small collection carved baubles from their persons before eventually finding a pair of synthetic leather-like wallets which were cannibalized for carrying relevant information.

Leaving a collection of trinkets scattered across the floor Unit 00000002 idly wiped the bloodstained hands of her Wind on the shirt of the man before standing and setting off in search of the residential wing of the station where she hoped to collect alternative identification credentials so as to be able to have a reliable means of accessing the station's central computing systems. Access which was crucial both to the information collection portion of their mission, as well as to enable efficient collection of materials which the Herald would need for its repairs and return trip.

Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station - Residential Wing

Almost every door encountered by Unit 00000002 that would not open featured a card reader in near proximity, into these card readers went one of the two keycards that had been collected by Unit 00000002, and with the authorization held in the inert electronic cards Unit 00000002, could pass. Within these doors were often things of little immediate use, cleaning supplies, laundry facilities, and food storage.

The Unit that Unit 00000002 followed often featured signs of the Commander's passage, sundered doors, charred remains, and drying blood stains. The bodies that were largely whole, were looted for further credentials, and the rooms where multiple individuals had taken shelter were carefully combed. Surviving identification was rare, though with a bit of encouragement many of the charred drawers, trunks, and wardrobes gave way revealing a mixture of personal effects, clothing, and personal computing devices.

These last were of particular note, with Unit 00000002 taking the time to puzzle out the passwords that she could, or in more fortuitous circumstances merely access the unsecured systems to comb for useful data. Rarely were these small systems explored thoroughly, instead, it was quickly determined what sort of patterning the people whose past lives she explored followed and locations of important notes were visited and ransacked before Unit 00000002 moved on.

More lavishly decorated rooms when discovered were thoroughly explored in search of hidden pieces of information which would potentially be of use. In the largest of these rooms, Unit 00000002 discovered a keycard indicating a title which Unit 00000002's translation algorithm interpreted as 'Grand Magician' an odd title, though in such a strange place she supposed she had little by way of context to judge.

Within this room Unit 00000002 discovered documentation indicating a safe room, a place intended to protect the things this man had valued most. Further searching revealed a scrap of paper which had been dropped or perhaps placed beneath the room's large ornamented wooden four post bed. The paper detailed the instructions of accessing the vault and further detailed the means that it would be opened at a later time. The instructions, however, perplexed Unit 00000002 mentioning things being hidden from the eyes of seekers, as well as a section that suggested some form of special guarding or protection intended to keep out intruders.

Troubled by this Unit 00000002 was reminded of the Lorthet's words as well as the occasional inexplicable 'weapons' that were employed against the Herald in her task of turning the system into a mass of floating graves. Deciding it would be unwise to interact with the unknown if such a result was possible Unit 00000002 filed away the knowledge that one of the walls was really a door, and made her trip back to the command center of the station with her collected identification credentials in hand and in mind.

The Herald - Command Compartment

The arrival of Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Fordew as one that 'Kit' had anticipated, and as such the airlock had already been open to admit the pair of the Herald's command crew when they arrived. The cycle of the airlock later and the two were once again in the command compartment, the Commander looking worse for the wear, and the blonde man in a state that seemed to hint at his own mind occupying his attention.

The task of transferring the Commander to the medical bed, which conveniently was also her command chair was a simple one and soon the automated treatment systems were fast at work. The administered medical aid began work on the most severe of the Commander's ailments with pico-jelly IV lines finding their way into her flesh, while other systems set about rapidly attending to her internal bleeding.

Kit mused over how once again Unit 00000002 would have commented on the foresight and steps taken to ensure that this mission succeeded by the Commander's people. Truly they had much to be thankful for. This idle contemplation was distracted by the inquiry of the operations officer seeking social contact, likely in a bid to ease his troubled mind in the face of a near lethal encounter. As such Kit's cheerful voice responded promptly over the compartment's speakers, "From what little we know it is unlikely that anything pre-packaged will survive the trip back. At least not whole. It would be safe to assume that the manufacturers don't exist where we come from, and as such the things made by them would not exist. What they're like, I could not say. The Herald lacks the facilities to properly identify the makeup of foreign food, as such it could be as toxic as it is delicious, we have no way of ensuring it is compatible with your biology.

"I believe it is said that this is 'hungry work' however it would be unfortunate if you were poisoned by local cooking before we returned home." Kit would have offered an empathetic smile, or a pat on the shoulder had she been capable, however, for now, she hoped that the man would content himself with her concern for his well-being.

A notification in Kit's awareness following her speech indicated that Unit 00000002 had acquired administrative credentials for the local system, and asked for Kit to prepare a secure connection with which to probe the local systems for useful data. While steps would be taken to ensure that the local systems were declawed prior to interaction it would not hurt to be careful. Soon, however, the ferrying of useful materials to the Herald would begin, and the final repairs could be performed allowing their departure from the station, and the existence to which they were playing the part of belligerent tourists.

Unknown (Eldruid) System - Cathedral Station

While Kit began the process of picking through the station's information networks, combing over the available data in an isolated sandbox instance so as to avoid any unforeseen malicious digital shenanigans on the part of the local information networks, Unit 00000002 began the process of harvesting, machining, and delivering the components that would be required to repair the critical components of the Herald as well as restore the salvaged components to their initial state so as to not overtax the Herald's systems on the return trip. These components were ferried to the Herald with the help of a blanket padded ore-cart whose contents had been unceremoniously scattered across a wide stretch of one of the processing bays.

Once the mission critical components had been gathered, the task of looting began in earnest with Unit 00000002 gathering up anything that seemed interesting, shiny, or otherwise might be of interest to the others aboard the Herald. This included various samples of the local foodstuffs pilfered from the kitchens in an effort to placate Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde.

Slowly an organized and rather extensive selection of jewelry, tools, ornaments, clothing, keys, and some objects whose purpose were not apparent began to accumulate in the proximity of the Herald. These would likely be sorted through by the Commander and Operations officer, and perhaps the Lorthet at their leisure. Perhaps the objects would have some inherent value, however to Unit 00000002 most seemed to be curious uses of various types of matter with no apparent value.

What was valued by Unit 00000002, apart from the various computational devices which were linked to the main system for ease of processing, were books. Every book, magazine, and scrap of paper with writing upon it in the station found its way into Unit 00000002's small hands and thought many were discarded as garbage being little more than reminders or memos for people now dead, a steady collection of written materials began to pile up the collected archives of the people not committed to a digital format carefully transported and set aside for packing.

Unit 00000002 did not know what these volumes entailed however the ones with the less comprehensible subjects called to her, they mentioned harnessing and controlling powers, but none of the methods were of a sort she understood. This only served to make them all the more important to her.

With her task of stripping the station coming to a close sort of stealing the textiles off of the bedding and bodies, Unit 00000002 made her final return to the Herald where her efforts would be directed toward returning the Herald to as close original specifications as possible, and then the sorting of the acquired objects would be carried out in earnest, those determined valueless would be dumped in the hangar and destroyed along with the rest of the station immediately following their departure.

For now it was only a matter of time.

 

The Herald - Loading Bay

The second instance of the Lorthet's talons puncturing the synthetic flesh of Unit 00000002's scalp was met in a much more collected manner than the initial experience, however, it was far from pleasant. The query as to the state of 'rocky' and 'slushy' was met with a moment of blank confusion before the response was given politely, "The two are in as good of shape as they can be. Our sortie was successful and no further harm came to the Herald or her contents." The other comments of the Lorthet however, went unanswered as Unit 00000002 set about the task of reassembling and restoring the Herald to a near original state. The answer was obvious, time could be spent speaking, or it could be spent on getting them home. The latter was the obvious preference of Unit 00000002.

Due to the previous accompanying feed provided by Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde it was a simple matter for Unit 00000002 to locate areas of the Herald which had been salvaged to restore basic operation, and the inspired workarounds were carefully removed and replaced with near replicas of the original hardware. This process of replacing the jury-rigged portions of the Herald stretched minutes becoming an hour at which time Unit 00000002 began her work disassembling and addressing the damages to components which the Herald had lacked the means to repair immediately following their arrival in this foreign existence. These repairs proved tedious and taxing. Many of the components having been initially assembled by machines with many more limbs than those presently available to Unit 00000002 making the reassembly and testing of the restored hardware a bit of a puzzle. Thankfully this task did not possess the added dimension of needing to re-machine parts on top of the puzzle-like assembly, with the specifications reading true.

As an hour became two, Unit 00000002 progressed from testing the sub-components to testing whole systems of the Herald's damaged VESPA, preparing it for its first true operation and the moment with which the Herald would be ready to complete her mission returning home with what they had learned from the expedition, a home that Unit 00000002 was only dimly aware of. Potentially she would be learning as much upon their return as she had on their arrival, though perhaps she would be able to fill in the gaps in her memory and find some peace of mind surrounding her identity. Shaking away the phantom thoughts of presently unimportant curiosities, Unit 00000002 reached out through the Herald's systems and reconnected the VESPA system to the Herald's main computer allowing the diagnostic routine to run and beginning the final stretch of her task.

It would not be long before the Herald would depart.

 

The Herald, Command Compartment
"The station's dead, Captain," Danny said solemnly to Korr'ih, sitting beside her medical bed, "the fox is currently in the process of stripping the station for all useful parts, and data." He noticed the furtive robot carrying the occasional book or folder filled with papers of interest them, as well as transferring terrabytes of data according to the Herald's downstream throughput. Presumably records, flight plans, directions, and other things to examine with a fine tooth comb the answer the Herald's primary question: Where the hell are we going, and is it better?

After all, Korr'ih had handily answered the Is it dangerous? question by making example of the station's inhabitants. In the meantime Danny figured he might as well earn his keep if he was going to eat for two. Or at least it felt like it - the ordeal had been exhausting since arrival. In either case, assisting the robot with what tasks he could. "Yes Ma'am, sit tight and get well soon." Danny saluted the officer with an informal flick of the wrist, stood up and headed outside. Perhaps that was more Robert.

♫ Endless - Keep Calm ♫

With the systems the rogue been spotting and taking note of along the way and the vulpine robot skipping about, he got on fixing and cleaning. Some rewiring here, cutting a replacement and there, a patch job there, carrying some books to a cart for examination, hauling bodies into the waste disposal chute with a heave ho, and mopping up the evidence - such as his own bullet casings from the survivor he removed, and any other traces, sowing proverbial salt. With an entire station at his fingertips and its contents neatly catalogued, repairing the Herald to its better capacity in this world was merely a matter of persistence.

Danny merely happened to be the one few with a visible, biological limits to his persistence. Not a machine of inscrutable knowledge and its livelier companion, or an alien fuelled by some unseen mandate from upon high. "She's on a mission from God - er - Goddess, aye?" Robert queried as he and the robot were in the closing stages of making Danny's patch-job on the Herald's engines into a much more permanent solution - recasting and reforging the containment to appear as illustrated in the technical documentation. Printing parts and slotting them in, without as heavy a hassle as having the reactor on the verge of exploding. "You suppose there's somethin' to it here?" With no clear way of indicating himself alone, he had to speak on his own behalf, "Danny Boy reckons Korr'ih weren't like this where he came from."

The observation's line of thought was suggesting some manner of gravitas, but conversation was limited: The two were on the clock and the moment Danny and the robot wrapped up their duties a couple of hours' work, the hatches went up and the blonde was back in his piloting seat, watching the diagnostics run their course. As he watched the checkboxes whittle down, Danny had a chocolate bar - something called a 'Dentist's Delight' according to the white wrapping. The logo and branding were entirely alien to him, as were one of the ingredients - whatever toothberry was though, it tasted crunchy, nutty, and delightfully stringy between porous layers of honey and nougat.

Chewing experimentally as quietly as he could , and gazing about for scrutiny. Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind as he swallowed it rest down while the diagnost was in its last stages. Huh. Danny blinked as he assessed the flavour. Not dead yet, so that's good. He proceeded to nosh the rest of the bar down, then flatten and fold up the wrapping, putting it in his pocket as his own research task for later.

When the green flag dropped on the interface, Robert's enthusiasm showed through. "Hit it," he said, pointing forward.