Futuristic Lights Out

The spaceport rested on a ladder reaching out from the terrestrial planet beneath. Figuratively, of course; a beam of traction light reached up from the planet like a bent arm, grabbing onto the bustling port and holding it fixed in orbit. Gravitational light fixed onto the bottom of the spanning metallic structure, and from the planet, to someone with a sharp enough eye, it may have even looked like a star. From the viewing platform, in the far, far distance, similar structures reached out from the planet, looking much like vibrant tacks. Against the darkness of space, they stood out. They were small townships in their own right, each bearing the cultural style of the continents they sprouted from. On one such platform, a lone attendant stood, waving two vibrant batons down to the metallic tiles beneath him. He wore a bright orange vest that shone in the shiplight, and above him, he directed a mass of a ship to land safely.

The ship, emblazoned by a white mark in Standard that'd read 'The Bard', dwarfed the parking attendant just as well as the other carrier ships in-dock. While most of the vehicles that dotted the small horizon were simply large enough to carry cargo and a few passengers with no leisure room in-between, The Bard was another beast in its entirety. While pockmarked with age and slight damage, the ship itself was of masterwork quality. It loomed above the port and attendants like a gentle giant, though no eyes peeked through the windows down to the floors.

Instead, a ramp deployed from the inner part of the spindle of a ship. It reached out to the floors, carving a path for a man cloaked in diplomatic blue to descend it, with a larger, raven-haired and black-smocked man to his side. Though both human, their demeanors stood leagues apart from each other. The blue-laden Captain bore a blond tail at the back of his head, and cheery dark eyes. His hands fiddled with one another, though only behind his back where nervousness wouldn't meet the public eye. His garb was that of a space Captain; simple, effective, but also adorned with medallions given from the societies he'd visited throughout his journey.
The man to his right had a darkened demeanor, though it wasn't exactly unbecoming. Taut, and strict, but somehow warm at the same time, he followed close behind the Captain. The two met at the bottom of the ramp, before looking between each other.

"Where are they?" The Captain murmured, holding his formal position and looking around as if his eyes weren't allowed to be unfixed.

"We're early, as it happens. Don't let yourself get anxious. Though, I'm not sure why you are, at this point. How many times have you gone through Acception, again?" The man in black asked, looking down at his partner.

"Ah... at least... yes, well, I know that I have no right to be, but every society is different. We could very well be violating cultural norms by wearing the color blue, and we won't know it until we get the data bank back." He replied, to which the other gave a short laugh.

"This is a human settlement." He said. "I'm fairly certain that they aren't offended by blue. Do you have a contact?"

"Right! I do." The Captain replied, before pulling a small device from his pocket and jabbing at it with a finger. Then, he rose it to his mouth.

"Greetings. This is Captain Suther of the Bard Library-class ship. We are prepared to receive the Curator, when they are ready to be received. Feel free to send mission details over the link; my Caster will transmit them into the hold."

A few seconds passed in silence before a voice rang out. "Stand by for two passengers," it intoned in the stilted synthetic tone characteristic of societies where the stigma against AI was still strong. A long strip of fluorescent lights lit up on the platform, directed from the ship's entrance to a set of opening hangar doors nearby. A flurry of service drones began to fly out, accompanying a magnetically-levitating transport cart bearing two figures.

The cart quickly guided itself towards the ship, following the path laid out for it by the lights below, while the drones flew ahead and began busying themselves around the ship, connecting various cables, fuel pipes, and performing some minor cleaning work on its hull. A small, barely-noticeable screen set besides the Captain lit up and a number began rapidly ticking up just as the cart came to a stop in front of them.

The woman sitting on the left side disembarked with a practiced motion, her boots hitting the ground in perfect unison. Her gaze strayed to the ship, taking in its size and quality. The brief file she had consulted beforehand could only convey so much; while this was hardly the biggest ship she had ever travelled on, it remained nonetheless impressive, its condition a testament to the care with which its captains had handled it over the decades. Her cursory examination complete, she lowered her gaze to look at the Captain, ignoring the man besides him for now, and smiled as she began striding towards him.

"Captain Suther," she greeted him in a friendly tone. "A pleasure. Beautiful ship, if I may say so. I am Curator Lysier, representing the Tyndori-Sigma Conglomerate." She came to a halt before him, hands clasped neatly in front of her over her grey-and-red uniform. Her pale green eyes regarded the Captain steadily, sparing only a furtive glance for the man to his side.

As she was finishing her sentence, a large black cable was attached by one of the biggest drones to the underside of the ship, and an indicator next to it switched green. Its job done, the drone headed back to the cart and picked up a large metallic container, hovering steadily behind the cart as it awaited directions on what to do with the luggage.

Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of the ship, a pair of hands began dancing over a set of keyboards, flicking switches and rerouting power. This data package was massive, but this was nothing unusual; what was unusual was the near-absence of any visible encryption on any of the files. Payloads of this size usually contained much more sensitive data than this. This puzzled the Caster, but just then a flashing indicator diverted her attention, and she turned to look at it.

To the side of the Curator, an armor-laden figure stood. His figure was lazy, to say the least, and he bore plating reminiscent of human-derivative races that required life support shielding to reside on non-adaptive planets. His chestplate bore the blazing red insignia of the Tyndori-Sigma Conglomerate, a faction of which the Captain admittedly had little experience. The two side-figures eyed each other, curious to the others' intentions, before the Suther seemed to flicker to life again before their very eyes and jutted out a hand to the armored man.

"Hello, I'm Captain Suther. Welcome to the Bard. I didn't catch your name, as well?" the Captain said, cheerfully. The armored man reached out and shook his hand, though the frigidity of his grip shocked Suther, who gave a small, instinctive tug. Something about the man elicited a smile from the Combatant - one that only showed through a small wave of the shoulders rather than any visible expression, as if he had a face at all, it was covered by a visor.

"You can call me Audi." he replied, and withdrew his hand. He gestured behind him, to a set of three cubical metallic masses. "I have baggage. Could I get some assistance with carrying it in?" he asked.

"Oh, for sure! Erm, Levi?" Suther said, looking to the man at his side. Then, his eyes flickered. "My apologies. This is Levi Alubeck, the Personnel Specialist on-board. He can meet any personal needs that you might have. Counseling, psychiatry, botany, mediation, religion, the like."

"A pleasure." Levi said, though his hands stayed knitted over one another. Audi gripped the 'handle' of the metallic mass behind him, and dragged it forward. The sheer weight caused the transport vehicle to shift as the mass was displaced to one side, and then lift slightly as the armored man handed off the mass to the black-adorned Levi. Even in his grip, the load slacked, only being barely saved from hitting the floor by inches. It was a trouble that Audi didn't have; in fact, he made it look easy. This caused a revelation to occur like a chain reaction in the night-garbed Personnel Specialist. "You are Miss Lysier's Combatant, are you not?"

"You would be correct! And that payload you're carrying is my defensive system, so be nice to it, or it'll… get defensive." Audi said, gripping the two other masses in each hand and descending from the transport van. He landed hard, his weight causing a loud metallic clank to reverberate through the immediate area. As soon as he'd recovered, he began making his way past the Captain into the Bard, with not much in the way of a polite word to either of them. Seemingly unaffected, Levi followed quickly behind, but not before shooting a word to the Curator.

"We'll meet properly at a later date, Miss Lysier, but I am perpetually at your service." he said, with a bow and a small, amused smile.

With their two counterparts gone, the Captain and the Curator were free to talk.

"I should introduce you to the rest of my people. If you'd like. We've got a skeleton crew as of the moment, but rest assured that the people we do have are specialists that can take care of all the ship's needs. Follow me, and I'll introduce you to Sinna."

Sinna v'Kalern, Tserwil, Bard Caster, 83. "Wonderful," the Curator answered with a smile as she began to follow the Captain into the ship, trying her best to pretend she did not already know everything that was worth knowing about this ship. "I am very much looking forward to this voyage. Your services came highly recommended." Without looking back, she waved her left hand in a coded gesture; the hovering drone near the cart immediately began to fly towards her, keeping pace at a reasonable distance while it carried her luggage. "And please, tell your crew to call me Midallin, there is no need to be so formal with me. We are going to be together for quite some time, after all." Three weeks, two days, nine hours, lower estimate. "That reminds me, which time system are you currently following?" She raised her left arm and constricted her hand, lighting up a small screen on her glove. "Me and Audi are still used to local time; damnably short days here."

Further into the innards of the ship, the Caster had decided the warning signal had been a simple glitch. The cargo balance had briefly shifted, as if something had been added to it, then just as quickly removed. If not for the blinking indicator, she would not have noticed it at all. She had checked the logs, just to be sure, and sure enough all entrances to the cargo bay had remained sealed since their arrival. Perhaps it had simply been a calibration error; she made a mental note to send a maintenance drone down there at some point, then got to her feet.

This was not an easy feat for her. Tserwils struggle in any high-G environment, and this planet's inhabitants had chosen a particularly high setting for this particular station. And, much as she was loath to admit it, her age was catching up to her; gene therapies could only do so much to slow down the process, and they were expensive. She briefly considered slipping into her mobility exoskeleton, but decided against it; too much hassle, and it always left her feeling completely powerless while she let the machine move her limbs in her stead. Instead, she reached to the side of her chair and grabbed her cane, then made her way to the nearest vertical transport beam entrance. Pressing a button on the cane's remote, she felt herself slowly falling downwards as she headed to the ship's entry bay to go meet their latest Curator. A few seconds later and she was gently ejected from the beam, landing on the floor just as the Captain rounded a nearby corridor with one of their passengers.

And even further inside the ship, someone who very much looked like a human, convincingly sounded like a human, and even, as he had just discovered, sweat just like a human used their hand to wipe the perspiration on their brow, congratulating himself on fooling the ship's sensor so efficiently. And yet, while a genetic test would say otherwise, the Changeling was most certainly not a human.

Suther looked between Midallin and Sinna, eyes widening slightly. Then, he departed from the Curator's side and to Sinna's, offering lightly to help with an arm toward the elderly Tserwil. Whether she had accepted it or not was a moot point; the woman had descended from the cockpit and gotten their mostly on her own. It, however, did show his allegiance. He showed the two ladies to each other; an introduction that wasn't perhaps necessary, but probably a lot more than other space-farers had gotten themselves. Warm, and friendly. "Sinna, this is Midallin. Our new Curator. She comes with a Combatant; Audi, but we can introduce you all later. As for time, we're on Oldworld Standard, but always feel free to sleep to the need of your schedule. The ship lights stay on at all times, but I've already set up your room to dim to Tyndori-2 time schedule."

"Audi… Of course, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call on me. I'm here to attend to our crew's nutritional, psychological, and religious needs." Levi said, as he sat the mechanical package down lightly into the corner. They had made their way into the cargo bay; it wasn't a standard cargo ship itself, but the Bard had a decent amount of space for it regardless. His foot slid down to the side of it, and tapped twice. The tile underneath lit up, and then magnetized the package to the floor with an audible whirr. Audi stepped back abruptly from it, causing the Chaplain to quirk a brow. "Am I to assume you aren't just wearing that armor because it's intimidating? Seems encumbering."

"It's about as encumbering as your skin." Audi replied, quickly, a stark contrast to the laissez-faire behavior he'd displayed previously. He looked back, and around, as if noticing something off, but then looked back to Levi in the moments following. "I will call on you if I require sustenance, but don't wait up for me. Is that the only use you provide to this ship?"

"What?" Levi replied. "Surely you can't mean that keeping the crewmates alive is useless?" he asked, with a small laugh. "All of us do it in our own way. Captain Suther keeps us alive by providing funds. Sinna makes sure we don't get lost in space somewhere, because that's a long, slow death. And I make sure they don't all starve to death or murder each other due to space madness. It's an apt contribution. I also have a familiarity with defense, as does Suther."

"Your room is near the main Library Vault, by the way. It's a design that the Curators before you have appreciated. Bard allows you control of sealing off the intel inside of the vaults, even from the rest of the crew apart from myself, but you should probably only utilize that when it's necessary. Not that you have much to worry about in terms of protecting your payload; it doesn't happen often that we're intercepted at all." Suther continued, gesturing down the hall, where the light of the brilliant white Vault peeked out at the far end.

Sinna accepted the captain's arm without protest. She might not have needed it, but she knew from experience it was best to let Suther act in this quaint old-fashioned way. Instead, she studied their new Curator, bowing her head slightly to greet her; Midallin finished setting up her watch and reciprocated in kind.

"Pleased to meet you-" A barely-noticeable pause as a query was performed. Starseer <FIRST-NAME>, Tserwil honorific. "-Starseer Sinna. Audi and me are fully confident in your abilities, and look forever to a pleasant journey."

Sinna smiled and nodded at Midallin's use of starseer. "It is always such a breath of fresh o' to meet a Curator as polite as yourself. The last one we had..." She shook her head and nudged Suther with her elbow. "Remember the way he would-- well, I shouldn't say anymore. Confidentiality clause and all that." She rolled her eyes and entered a code into a nearby keypad. Behind them, a low rumbling was heard as the great entry door closed shut, followed by the characteristic sound of oxygen rushing in to pressurize the interior. Continuing through another door on their left, they came to a small but well-furnished cabin, featuring a comfortable-looking bed, a pure-wood desk on which a computer terminal rested along with a few other utilities. Sinna waved impatiently at the drone behind them, who moved in and deposited the luggage it was carrying at the foot of the bed. "Your own personal terminal will give you full access to the Library's Vault contents, as our Captain has informed you. Although if you have any implants, we can help you connect using those too."

Connection established, Bard data upload progress - 14%. "No implants for me," Midallin responded with a smile and a slight shake of her head. "Only some of the very basic medical ones. Call me old-fashioned if you will, but I still enjoy the feel of a keyboard between my fingers."

This earned another nod of approval from Sinna, who turned around and started to leave the cabin. "As for your Combatant, his cabin will be right down the hall from you. Similar setup; I'm sure you'll both settle in just fine." She briefly glanced at several readouts on her glove then turned to look at the Captain. "We should be ready for departure within two hours, Captain. Just waiting on refuelling and for the payload to upload."

Meanwhile, the Changeling was trying to break his own time record for holding in his breath. He had lost count after about twelve seconds, and was now trying to stall by taking smaller, less-noticeable intakes of air. What had that guy heard? How had he heard him? He had hidden himself in a small, secondary storage compartment below the thick floor. No human-equiv could have heard him, surely! But something had spooked the armored guy - he was watching his camera's feed right now, and they had definitely sensed something they didn't like. Beenma closed his eyes and fervently hoped the two would go away soon.

"Well, if you like old fashioned, you and Sinna will get along just fine." Suther said, with a grin toward the older Tserwil. It was a tease and truth, all at the same time. "Confidentiality aside, there are three things that you can do that'll make sure that we get on just fine. Because we both know that this is a two way street." he said, stiffening a little and taking a more serious tone than Midallin had grown accustomed to, "Obey the drills. They exist for a reason. We'll go over them with you - and I'm sure that you've done them before on other ships - but it's something that's necessary. For our piece of mind, mostly, because the last thing we need is a flattened Curator. Secondly … weapons stay in the vault or the bridge when they're not in use. Not sure if you're used to carrying a side-arm -" he looked to her, catching a brief glance of her outfit. "- but there is one person on this ship that can do it without prior notice or red alert. That's me."

He patted his side, where a holstered pistol laid in wait.

"Thirdly… I try to be as civil as possible, and I won't give them out often, but my word is law here. Once we leave this spaceport, we're on Planet Bard. Only reason I'm gonna be giving you orders is if it's necessary. I don't like being that guy, but if I tell you to get to the vault, you get to it. If I tell your combatant to fire on someone, there's gonna be a damn good reason. And if I tell you to jump, there's probably acid eating away at your feet or whatever other silly reason. Now, most likely, your mission is gonna go just fine. I've never had a Curator croak on me … for reasons other than old age. So!"

He clapped his hands together, as if suddenly in a more-than-cheerful mood again.

"Any questions?"

Down in the cargo bay, Audi and Levi had finished unpacking what was left of the former's supplies. Soon enough, they were quickly making their way up to the residence halls, where Audi's own bedroom lied.

"You'll be staying near the vault. We find that the Curators and Combatants that we take on appreciate being able to do so. The Captain doesn't sleep much; he's got his own implants that allow for it. When he does, though, his room will be up near the bridge. Feel free to come to him any time with questions, but I would rather you not bother him if you have the option not to. As well as Sinna v'Kalern. You can come to me for any questions you might have, and if it's serious enough, I'll bring the inquiry up with him." Levi said, as they made their way toward where Midallin, Suther, and Sinna were.

"You're the go to guy, huh? Why not Sinna?" the Combatant asked, quirking his head.

"Because she needs her rest."

Midallin nodded and smiled as the Captain droned on about his precious safety protocols. She couldn't recall a single Library captain over the years who hadn't given her the same speech on arrival, with minor variations. At least this one seemed more laid-back than some of the others had been. Maybe it was simply an elaborate ruse to make himself seem weaker than he truly was, but his profile didn't seem to suggest that. Still, it wouldn't hurt to stay on her toes.

"None at this time, captain," she replied on cue, as she watched the drone begin to unpack her belongings, rearranging some of them as it did so. "Your ship, your rules. I am not here to upset that, and I think you will find Audi to be unfailingly obedient where our safety is concerned." Some of that was true, at any rate. "May I have a few minutes to finish setting up? I do enjoy a well-organized cabin, and I'm afraid this droid is going to make a mess of things. I wouldn't mind having a quick look at this ship's vault interface either - I hope it doesn't use that dreadful SteelVault™ software." She chuckled slightly; that much was the unadulterated truth. Cover or no cover, garbage-level tools were still garbage.

"SteelVault™ 12," Sinna said in a slightly miffed tone, the earlier good will she had felt towards their latest Curator dissipating somewhat. "Enjoy."

Wonderful. Garbage. "Oh, version 12?" Midallin breathed an affected sigh of relief. "The post-10 versions were a significant improvement over the older ones. It won't be any issue. I've had to work with version 3.1, if you can believe it."

Sinna sniffed, not entirely convinced, and turned to whisper something in the Captain's ears. "There's something I'd like to show you before we go."


Hearing the two leave, Beenma allowed himself a long deep breath, followed by hacking and coughing as he desperately tried to suck air back into his near-empty lungs. But it had worked - he was onboard! Headed somewhere where his core DNA was not yet filed. Of course, he still had to remain hidden for the entire duration of the trip, and so he got to work.

Taking out his trusted duffel bag, Beenma began extracting the various tools he always brought with him on such trips and setting them up around him in the storage compartment. The first step was to seal up the compartment, which he did using ordinary spray-on sealant, leaving only a tiny space for his oxygen filter to pump through.

Next came the genetic therapist - the machine which, over the course of the next few days, would rewrite all non-core parts of his DNA to change his appearance to something completely different. He had been recognised once for having stuck to the same disguise for too long, he was not about to let it happen again, even if the likelihood of being recognized on a planet so far away was literally astronomical.

And finally, the most important component of his trip of all - his own portable, high-quality, life-saving game console. It was going to be a long, cramped trip, and he intended to make the best of it.

"Ah, here we are." came the voice of Levi, who had found himself in the company of the full crew. He bore a sharkish smirk; one that didn't set well on his face, as if a part of it had been unpracticed. He hovered in the doorway, as if not wanting to disturb the comfortable presence of the wood-laden cabin. "We've stowed away your carry-on luggage. The drones will take care of the rest." he said, with a small nod.

"Midallin's going to be retiring here for a while, we should leave her off." Suther said, to the encroaching Audi and Leviticus.

"Ah. It's disappointing, then, but we'll certainly get the opportunity to be better acquainted at a later date." Leviticus said, smirk falling. "As was said or implied before, though. Again, I am at your service. If you need anything; food, faith, or an open ear, I'll be here to receive you. My office is outside the vault parameters, of course."

"You'll be able to access the vault interface from here or in the vault directly." Suther continued. "But we'll leave you at that."

The Captain pulled away, leaving Midallin and Audi and pulling back into his own group of crew members. Leviticus walked ahead of them all, leaving the Captain to walk along with Sinna. Then, once they had gotten to a decent pace away down the hall and near the exit of the vault again, Suther looked on the small crew of his own, almost bouncing on his toes. "How is the Combatant, Levi?" he questioned, seemingly nervously.

"He's… a Combatant." Levi said. "I'm not sure if he's small-minded or simply acting that way. Something curious about him, though. I obviously cannot offer a full profile as of yet, and I don't think he's going to be coming to my office anytime soon."

"Ah. Well…" Suther started. He looked down to Sinna, who had wanted a moment of her own to speak. "You wanted to show me something, Sin?"

"Please, Audi, come inside." Midallin beckoned to Audi to enter her cabin as she busied herself by rearranging her belongings around the cabin. This, at least, was no dissimulation; a disorganized cabin would simply not do for a trip this long. "Our latest crew seems like a very amiable group so far - a far cry from the last ship we took, if you'll recall." The captain purports to be the only one carrying a side-arm at any times, but he does not look like he would give us any trouble if it came to that. The message was encoded in a specially crafted low-frequency wave that would have passed for white noise to any standard detector. Of course, Midallin's implants and Audi's receivers were anything but standard. "And what did you make of their Chaplain? He seemed rather genial." I do not trust him one bit. Did you find out anything interesting?


As she walked next to Suther, managing to keep stride with him despite the use of her cane, Sinna brought up her display and turned it so that it faced the Captain. "Look at this," she said meaningfully, highlighting a table graph that showed an overview of the Library's data payload. Apart from some tiny fragments of red in some of the cells, the cells' coloration was overwhelmingly white. "There's pretty much nothing encrypted on here. This data is all public-knowledge, bog-standard updates about this section of the galaxy." She closed the display and frowned as she kept walking. "These people are over-qualified for this. Way over-qualified. I looked at their files; these aren't nobodies. She's been doing this for over a decade, and him... well, there's not that much info on him, but he's supposed to be good. One of the best, supposedly."

She sighed as she reached the exit. "Maybe it's nothing. We have had some strange passengers before."


Level complete! Finally! Beenma fist pumped, only to regret it immediately as his elbow collided with his cramped quarters. He sighed and went on to the next stage as his skin began changing color.

"He was stronger than I would expect a personnel manager to be." he said, with a curt nod. "Seemed ... nice. If a bit aloof. A little more self-important than expected." Audi replied, less careful of his words than Midallin.

.

Undetectable to any cameras in the room - though it didn't seem that there were any, it didn't hurt to be cautious - a display appeared underneath the glossy finish of Audi's eye. It was strange, and certainly jarring to anyone who hadn't seen such a thing before, but Midallin did not fall into that category. On it was a recording. To another, it may have seemed normal, but he focused on one thing. As the Chaplain had shown the Combatant around, he caught a glimpse of faded black peeking out of his collar. It was peculiar for a tattoo, showing no discernible shape or meaning; just an amalgamation of sharp black rectangles and bars.

.

His eye flashed out. To seem busy, he helped Midallin in her quest of rearranging the room to specifications.

.

"I do like knowing about our guests." Suther replied, pressing a thumb to his chin. "Not much we can do, and we can't go too far, but I don't want anyone on this vessel who's partaking in anything shady."

"It's not any of our business." Levi said, interrupting the two. "They seem ... reclusive, anyhow. Probably won't be seeing too much of them. If they have something to hide - then let them. If they bring trouble our way, we take them back as per protocol. The host planets may not be too happy, but -"

"If we keep whittling away at our host planets' happiness, then we're not gonna have any business." Suther said. "Sinna. Try to what you can on 'em. If you can find anything, let me know. Otherwise, we're all happy. Levi -"

"I can't break confidentiality if either of them come to me with something, but I will keep an eye out as well."

"Sparkling." Suther said, shooting a cheeky grin toward them both.

I doubt they'll be monitoring you. I haven't found any bugs in here yet. Midallin's gaze swept over her cabin's shelves as she finished setting down her spare clothes, her eyes trying to locate the various microphones and miniature cameras her sensors might have missed. "You're always so quick to pass judgement," she said out loud, deciding to keep playing it safe until she was absolutely certain they were not being spied on. "I look forward to meeting this man, he seems intriguing." No need to lie to them if they decide to press the issue with you, though. I have no reason to think any of them in a bio-supremacist, unlike some of the people in this planet. Try to relax. This should be an easy mission. "There, that's good. While we're here, would you mind helping me become better acquainted with the Vault's interface? For all their qualities, they do not have good taste in software..."

One hour later
".8... .9... .9... come on..." Sinna muttered to herself as she stared at the display in front of her. She was back in her operational chair, located in the part of her personal quarters that was directly situated above the main deck. While the room's original purpose had merely been to serve as a cockpit from which the Caster could control the ship, over the years she had gradually turned it into her own living space. The room was warm and inviting: its walls were plastered with posters of faraway lands, the floor was covered in a shaggy carpet she had insisted be installed once she felt comfortable enough to stop wearing shoes inside, and the entire area was bathed in a gentle orange light that reminded Sinna of her home star. Towards the back lay her bed, a compact yet comfortable structure. There were days when she didn't even leave the room, content as she was to rest within its soothing confines, the ship's controls always within reach.

Next to the control desk was a metallic service ladder that led down through the floor directly to the main deck. The spacious deck had always been a great point of attraction for their passengers, its large bay screen-windows offering a view of space that only a few species could have told apart from the actual thing. This is where Suther and Levi were usually to be found when a situation required their presence. Each had his own command station, located a small distance apart from each other and consisting of even more displays. This was mostly for effect, as the Captain and the Chaplain usually had access to every relevant function from anywhere in the ship. Still, it tended to reassure passengers, and it also helped when they needed to communicate with other ships.

The progress bar in front of her finally ticked to 100.0%, and Sinna leaned over to shout down the ladder's hole. "Payload fully transferred. Ready for takeoff." Sinna lay back and relaxed in her chair. Her job was done until they had left the solar system, as all the navigation routines had already been pre-set and verified by hand. All that was left was for the captain to give the go-ahead. Hopefully the planet's customs wouldn't give them too much trouble on the way out.

Just as she announced their readiness, the deck's main transport beam activated, carrying Audi and Midallin on to the deck. The latter waved her hand as she greeted Suther. "I felt the engines beginning to hum, and I took that to mean we would be ready soon. I hope you do not mind our intrusion here."

"Not at all. It's actually a pretty popular place to hang out." Suther said. "At the beginning. For most Curators and Combatants, the novelty tends to wear out after a bit and they find themselves reading in their room, watching movies on the datanet, or talking to Levi. Don't knock that, by the way. He's a stoic guy, but, you know. Very therapeutic." he said. While talking, the Captain made no effort to look toward Midallin or Audi. Instead, his eyes and hands were focused on the liftoff sequence. It was something he had done a thousand times, but it was something that could always go wrong. Before kicking the sublight engines into gear, his hand grasped for the microphone on the control panel. He held it up to his mouth.

"This is Captain Suther with the Bard Librarian-class starship. Curator Lysier and Combatant 'Audi' are on-board, the payload has been transferred, cargo secured, emergency latches are off. There are no unaccounted for personnel on board and everything is swell. Am I free to take off?"

"Seems as if everything is within a range of the normal parameters, Captain Suther." dispatch replied, after a moment. He knew well to wait for the second command, as the spaceport officials tapped furiously within their confines to identify and authorize the Bard's takeoff. They were taking off from an affluent planet, those who valued their procedures in protection of their own. "Please send over your crew roster, ship specifications, identification, and cargo manifest. You'll be asked to account for them all at the next checkpoint, as well as pass a weight test and account for any new or disposed of cargo."

"Sure thing." Suther replied with joviality, though the denizens of the cockpit had a far different sight of the Captain. He was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other forwarded the request to Sinna, upstairs. Soon, the Bard had begun to complete a data transfer of its own. After a decent amount of time spent waiting further, the Captain looked back to Midallin and Audi. The latter of the two had been standing stoically just outside of the beam with his hands laced into each other. "Once we get into hyperspace it'll be a little more thrilling. I think I've been through it a thousand times, but the warp never really gets old." he said, with a grin. "Levi usually joins us for it."

On the viewport, the data transfer hit 100% again. Compared to the payload, the information that the Bard sent over was little to nothing. "Hold your ground." Suther warned, as the authorization came through. "Clear to go?"

"Clear to go. Fair winds and pivotal journeys, Curator and Captain." dispatch said.

Slowly, the Bard eased into the air, the Captain manually controlling the takeoff himself. There was a period in which autopilot worked, and this wasn't it. With trained expertise, Suther guided the Bard upwards, casting down a deep shadow onto the docking bay. Then, the airlock hatch opened up, waiting to take the Library in and spit it out into deep space. The attendants, wearing reflective vests, became minuscule green dots against the gray and blue of the Tyndori-Sigma port. Then, as the aperture airlock closed, locking behind them, it disappeared. All sounds around them siphoned out with the oxygen, leaving the crew to hear only the muffled sounds of the engine thrumming power through the ship, and themselves. The silence - leaving a pressurized bay - was always deafening.

Sinna sighed with relief as the vastness of space engulfed the ship and all environmental noise disappeared. The monitors surrounding her gradually switched over to the external camera views, immersing her in the familiar darkness of the Void. Not that she actually believed in any of the mystic properties her culture's religions attributed space. Still, something about the emptiness of it all appealed to her in a way no planet-bound settlement, even ones in orbit, could ever hope to match.

Reaching over to a nearby console, she punched in a few numbers and immediately felt better as the gravity within her room was altered to be approximately a fifth of that of the rest of the ship. Of course, she would have preferred for the entire ship to disable artificial gravity entirely, but she conceded that most other species fared better in near-G environments. Taking advantage of the now-reduced gravity, she pushed herself upward, arm reaching for a dangling cable as thick as her thumb. Delicately pinching its extremity between her fingers, she dragged it back down and slotted it in a near-invisible port on the back of her neck.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, as she sank back down to her chair. Then, slowly, she started to feel her awareness expand. Not by much - the newer neural links were much better at this sort of task, but both her and the ship's interfaces were very out of date. She began not only to hear the hum of the engine, but to feel it. It was a good feeling, which usually meant everything was chugging along nicely. The ship's other miscellaneous subsystems were also reporting nothing out of the ordinary.

Using a practiced mixture of keyboard strokes and mental commands, Sinna began activating the ship's skimming engines - the immensely powerful (and correspondingly expensive) machines that would intermittently tear the spacecraft away from this universe, letting it skim along the frontier of another universe with a less-constrained speed of light. "3 minutes to full charge," she announced, her voice automatically amplified throughout the ship. "Route is locked in. No delays anticipated." The Void embraces us, she couldn't help saying to herself.

Midallin stared impassively out the bay windows, watching the planet behind her slowly shrink. It wasn't her home world, and yet she had called it home for the past eight years and had become somewhat fond of it, despite some of its citizens' less palatable customs. But she could never return. Her deception would unravel soon, even though few outside of a small circle of powerful people would ever be aware of it. By then, she would be on the other side of the galaxy, having already wiped clean all traces of her passage aboard this ship. And even if they somehow managed to figure out she had left on this ship, she could have disembarked on any one of the stops on this Library's journey. It was a big universe, and nobody was worth this much effort in the grand scheme of things.

"It is a different experience aboard every ship, Captain," she answered him at last, as the Caster's announcement rang out. "I never tire of it either."

In correspondence, Suther began working in his little downstairs area of the cockpit. It wasn't entirely necessary; by all means, Sinna could have done every single step required in entering hyperspace on her own, but the Captain had found that he'd liked the educational experience quite a bit more. With hypnotic fluidity, they worked together in getting the expensive process of pushing the Library into another dimension. Suddenly, radiation shutters slammed down on the outside of all of the viewports, shutting the Library off from the world. Pixels began to populate the insides of those shutters; beams of light that had acted as windows themselves, pretending to give the appearance of an open passageway. In reality, of course, those shutters had been outfitted with screens that projected the nonharmful visuals of the outside dimension, and silenced the harmful swathes of radiation that had then been battering the Bard.

As soon as his concentration was allowed to falter - as soon as his registries for the fuel, structural integrity, shields, and every other meaningful statistic passed the check - he looked back to Midallin. Behind him, the shutters began to form the appearance of hyperspace. Hyperspace, where long distances meant very little. "We have skimming engines, and our equipment is a little outdated. Not bad, but it means that the view you get is just a simulation, instead of looking out to the real thing. I surveyed a ship recently where the 'shutters' were advanced L.U.D. glass, allowed you to see right out of 'em, and filtered out all the bad stuff at the same time. Lot of fancy for a lot more money, if you ask me. Once you get past this level right here," he said, tapping the control panel. "It just goes from practicality to aesthetics. The Bard is a beautiful creature, without too many extra knick knacks to make it complicated."

Their view of space slowly began to slip and stretch, jolting the cockpit crew a fair amount. It wasn't enough to send them to the floor, the jolt being a far amount different than a plain physical one. It felt almost as if they were being pulled in every direction, without the pain or being shredded apart. Then, in one concise movement, put back together again. It was an unnerving feeling, switching dimensions, and a brief silence took the cockpit as no one ever knew quite how to describe it. Like something disturbing were hanging inside of the room, pressuring them into silence. Then, they regained their vitality again.

"Sin's calculations are telling me it's gonna take about a week to get to the target destination. It's about a fourth of the LKD, so we're gonna have a decent amount of time to spend together." Suther said. "Just long enough for hyperspace-madness to kick in." he continued, with a grin and a wink. "Just kidding. We have medications for that."

Midallin chuckled lightly at the Captain's attempt at humor, once the ever-unsettling transition into hyperspace was over. As if he didn't tell that joke to each of his passengers. "That won't be necessary. Audi and I are models of sanity... at least, until I've had a few too many glasses of anacquian wine." She turned towards Suther and flashed him a smile. "Which reminds me, I meant to ask earlier - what do you do around here to pass the time? A week is long enough, but I have heard some Libraries spend months or years out in space."

"We talk." Sinna's voice seemed to come from all around them, albeit at a reduced volume from before. Sitting back in her chair, she relaxed and let herself feel the entirety of the ship around her. "There is always a lot to talk about when you are at the forefront of the news, and our passengers are usually eager to share." The ship was sailing smoothly so far - they were already many light-years out from the Tyndori-Sigma cluster and were now entering mostly-unclaimed territory. "We all have our own ways of keeping busy too. I like to pretend I'm a soundweaver in my spare time." This route would mostly take them through uninhabited sectors, but there were a few minor systems on the way in case they needed to make some emergency stops. She had mostly created it herself, dissatisfied with the pre-planned options on offer. "Worst case scenario, and it's happened before, we take turns in the coffins. It's not that bad once you get used to it."

Outside, the world kept stretching in impossible shapes. Some days, if she looked hard enough, Sinna thought she could make out some of the individual stars as they warped past them, but most of the time it was just the fastest way to get a headache. It was said the slug-people (not their preferred designation, but an accurate one) of the Fzi Nebula could naturally correct the imagery in their head, making them some of the most sought-after HyperCombatants in the galaxy; even then, there was only so much the mind could process at a time. There wasn't a person alive she knew who ever felt truly comfortable while skimming.

Robots, of course, were a different matter.

"We talk, of course, yeah." Suther agreed, now able to relax slightly as they had pushed themselves into hyperspace and the hard part was over. Colorful lights shone against his face, distracting and enthralling those in the cockpit. "We also have an offline datanet archive. Runs slow, but gets the job done if you're bored out of your mind. You're free to use our cookery as well, and we have a small holodeck room. Past that, I've got quite the collection of 'actual' Oldworld library books, if you're the traditionalist type. And if you're at all into botany, talk to Levi and he never usually minds showing our guests the hydroponics. We actually have a seed bank, courtesy of him. Nothing like the vaults, but it's better than eating Nutristarch every day for the journey."

He shrugged. "And then, there's the coffins, but in my opinion it doesn't really do the Bard justice. And then you have to deal with Cryosleep sickness, but that isn't much worse than hyperspace jitters." he said. "Well, what do you two normally do on voyages such as this? I imagine not all the Librarians you come across are too well-equipped for guests."

"Solitaire." Audi replied, reinstituting him as an active conversational partner amongst them all. "I don't find myself engaging amongst the Librarians' facilities, generally. But a good game of solitaire is just that; random, and sometimes completely unwinnable."

"Well, we have ... some card games, if you're into that. I haven't played anything like that in forever, though." Suther pondered. "I find they are actually a little more maddening than the standard. As far as spending months out in hyperspace - well, that's true as well. At some points coming out of it is like going back into hyperspace itself. Not really all that great for your body, either, mandating that we go periods of time in the cryosleep to recover out of it."

He looked back to them.

"I'd like to start up our drills once we get settled in; get 'em out the way for you, and put my mind at rest." he said, grinning.

"Sounds lovely," answered Midallin with a smile.


Midallin's eyes shot open as she was woken from her light sleep by the blare of an alarm. Glancing sleepily at the time display on her wrist, she groaned and looked around for the source of the noise. The one thing her implants had never been able to fix was the need for sleep; if anything, they had made waking up even more confusing, as various components rebooted and reinterfaced with her brain. Scrambled, half-formed messages ran against fuzzy memories, and for a moment she couldn't even remember when she was.

Slowly, pieces of the last twenty-hour hours started slotting in, and she sat up on her bed, rubbing the drowsiness out of her eyes. She was starting to feel more alert. This was an alarm. Something was wrong on the ship. Moving more quickly now, she removed her bed's covers and got to her feet in her onesie. What was next? She was starting to remember Suther's instructions now, but they were still trickling in slowly and she felt powerless as she waited for the memories to resurface. She was supposed to go somewhere... probably. She tried reaching out to Audi, maybe he'd be able to reply faster than her own muddled brain.

All night - or what had counted as night in hyperspace, when the lights grew dim and the denizens of the ship went to rest - Audi had been lying on his bed peacefully, fingers interlocked over his chest, viewport in his mask dimming to darkness. Then, alarms blared through the ship, bathing the Bard in deep red light. All in all, the dormitories looked quite sinister, no longer akin to a home at home. The Combatant flickered to life almost instantaneously, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. If the awakening hadn't been rude enough, a ping went off inside of his mind.

.

Shooting out from his room, Audi burst out into the residential hallways from his own room. A short distance away, he was there in an instant, swiping his identification card into the panel of the door and allowing himself in. He gestured out toward the hall, intending on leading the way.

.

As Midallin's memories rushed forth, Audi found that his joke fell flat. She did have more important things to concentrate on, after all.

.

A figure stopped at the end of the hall, curious.

.

She hated moments like these. Utterly at the mercy of others. Whether Audi intended it as a joke or not, she had considered going further down the synthetic path, if only to avoid these kinds of situations by offloading more into the artificial parts. Of course, it would be much harder to hide the circuitry in her brain if she did so, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She stopped, staring at the figure. The memory was on the very edge of consciousness, if she could just... She raised a hand and waved at him as she began walking in his direction, towards the Vault at a steady pace. "It seems our captain likes to keep his guests on their toes," she said as she approached him, stifling a yawn as she did so. "At least, I hope this is just one of these drills he mentioned; is everything alright?"

.

Audi teased.

.

He walked alongside Midallin as they had approached the Chaplain, who had been dressed in markedly informal attire. He almost looked ... was it normal? Something itched at the Curator, however. Something was off. Then, it disappeared, as he had opened his mouth.

"Everything is fine, of course, but treat this as if it were a real drill. As if it weren't scheduled." he said, narrowing his eyes at the two. Something about their behavior had been curious. Just a moment ago, it almost looked as if the still-armored Combatant (though his armored state wasn't a complete surprise; many Combatants had augments to forego sleep) were rushing into the room of the Curator with - was it panic in his body language? "I should meet you at the door to the vault. I'll be outside. I'm not sure if you read the script in the files you have before you slept. Have you...?" he questioned, cocking his head.

"Of course." Audi replied, before the foggy Curator had the opportunity to speak. It was surprising, of course, with the Combatant having spoken so rarely in their past encounters. "Just a bit tired, is all. Not something you seem to be having a problem with. Are the crew supposed to get a heads-up, or is it just us that are afforded the pleasure of waking in the night?" he sharply finished.

"You should be able to get back to rest after this." Levi replied. "We can walk together there, then."

Midallin almost barked a reproach at Audi for his cavalier intercession; her memory was hardly that bad, names aside. "Yes, let's," she chose to say instead, smiling sleepily at the Chaplain as she settled into a reasonable walking rhythm beside him. "We've hardly had any time to talk since we got here, and I always make it a point to get to know as much of the crew as I can before we reach our destination."

As they walked she looked around the empty corridors of the ship. How old was it? That hadn't been in the files; it must have gone through many captains and crews before these three had taken over. It was almost certainly originally a human design - everything from the size of the doors to the general layout indicated human engineering - but there were a few additions that she recognized as characteristic of other species. The whole was at least a hundred years old; perhaps they had forgotten about some of the older components of the ship. She would have to remember to check that out. "How long have you been serving on this ship, if you don't mind sharing?" she asked after a pause.

"About six years." Levi replied. "Believe it or not, I used to travel with a Curator such as yourself." he said, leaving out a few key details as to why. "I decided against the life. As it happens, I find it is more dangerous to travel alongside a Curator than it is to run with a Library ship; the planets and politics are when the true danger comes into play. Which is why I commend you both. How long is it that you two have been traveling together, then? You look rather young - particularly to be a Curator - Miss Lysier, but with modifications and augmentations nowadays, you can't really tell."

The Chaplain smiled to them both, and brought a hand up to rub sleep out of his eye - whether it was for effect or completely earnest was another question. "Actually, that may have been rude. I'm told I should never ask a lady her age." he said, pulling back slightly as they walked. Then, they came to a large door; one that looked out of place in contrast to the rest of the ship. It was large, and incredibly modern. Security measures of every type seemed to line it; biometric scanners, fingerprint sensors, code input panels, and the old, professional keyslot.

"It isn't a rush to go in; we've gotten here in time due to your ... gusto. Unless you'd like to go in already, but it isn't protocol for me to come in with you." Levi said.

"It would be rather rude of me to leave you all alone now, wouldn't it?" And where does the Chaplain go when there is an emergency? "I can always make time for conversation when in interesting company."

Midallin leaned back against the wall, affecting the still somewhat sleepy demeanor one would expect from having just been abruptly woken up. In reality, she was anything but sleepy. The artificial glands in her body had started to secrete stimulants a few minutes into their walk to the Vault, and she felt as wide-awake now as she ever had. Her memories, minus some vague lingering dreams, were now fully restored and synced-up with her hardware. She was operational once more.

"And while your tactlessness would have been grounds for expulsion from proper Sigmic society," she added, referring to his earlier comment about her age, "I accept your apology." She smiled at him, but in the back of her mind she was trying to puzzle him out. Idle curiosity did not seem to suit this man, despite what one might assume of his position on this ship. Had it just been happenstance for him to stroll past their corridor just as she was waking up? "You will get no definitive answer from me, as a lady never tells, but a good guess would not be too far from the mark." Ten years off, at most, and not as a result of any modifications; she simply came from slightly longer-lived stock than the human baseline, possibly as a result of ancient genetic experimentation by her people.

She wondered about this Curator he had off-handedly mentioned. Again, simple conversation, or was he trying to get at something with his talk of politics? "The risks are an unfortunate aspect of the job," she continued with a sigh as her smile faded. "I try to steer clear of danger where possible, but it is all too easy to end up in the cross-fire when a star system has it out for another, or when a pirate wishes to try their luck. Thank the stream for Audi-" There was a minute pause as she realized she had unwittingly used an expression from her homeworld, but she pressed on without missing a beat, telling herself it was common enough. "There have been situations I wouldn't have walked away from without him." Her glance strayed towards the robot, and for once she did not have to fake the warmth she felt. She did genuinely enjoy his company, for all his faults.

"Still, those missions can be a strain on both of us. I was glad for this one - simple and clear-cut from beginning to end." Her smile returned as she turned back to look at Levi. "Well, one can hope anyway."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time." Levi said, smiling and thinking back to when she'd mentioned being expelled from a society. "But that's a story for when we have more time. As far as the stress of a mission - well, that variable usually comes into play on planet, doesn't it? We simply play the waiting game, here. Whether you prefer to do that with idle tasks or the sleep tubes is up to you, I suppose, but the rest of them would be lying if they said they never tired of each other's company at times, so you're always welcome, of course."

The talkative Chaplain passed a glance toward Audi. "Anything you say to me, of course, is confidential, barring intentions of hurting the other crew members."

"Why do you say that, Chaplain?" Audi suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had come from his direction.

"Why, I might just find myself lonely. And I must enjoy your company." Levi replied, passing an irritating grin toward the Combatant. "There isn't a need to be on edge, is all I'm saying. But if you find comfort in each other, then all the better. There aren't many bonds like that in this divisive Universe, after all."

Audi went silent, looking to the vault door. He pressed his hand against the scanner, using his other hand to key in the information they had been given to enter. In front of them, a beautiful display of mechanics and technology took place. A set of three formerly bolted doors began to twist, shift, and open before them, the very sight itself causing a certain amount of reassurance to the visiting pair. Then, beyond the doors, a white light contrary to the dreary dull fluorescents began to escape from the columned vault.

A holding facility that must have been several stories high rose above and below them, allowing Curator and Combatant to truly view the real nature of the ship. Why the Bard was the Bard. Stacks of physical data chips laid in dormancy in the middle column of the ship, bathed in artificial light and sealed to the utmost degree. Each section of data, which sat in eternal sleep like a see-through morgue chamber, was sealed by locks with permissions that only the Curator herself could access.

And it was a wonder to the Chaplain, that despite the utility of the wonderful spaceship that laid at their leisure, that all those protected data files would remain unencrypted. But he dared not venture in or ask, because despite the niceties, the tension in the air was just as thick as the white light that now shrouded them.

"I won't go in, but I hope you'll find your visit here as swift as you want it to be."