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Far Side of the Moon (IC)


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Dark Star floated there, looking at the vessel curiously. "I am unfamiliar with the craft's design. There are no ships like this out in the voids between worlds that I am aware off." He peered at it closely a moment. "Extricating the vessel from the crater wall will take some time if we do not wish it destroyed," he said half to himself.

Then the vessel fired. It didn't seemed to be able to continue firing, or playing the message. "Well, that answers that question," he said idly. "So...likely damaged perhaps? Possibly an automated response?" He knew this wasn't his area. He was something of an astrophysicist, science-wise, but he was just as certain the two ladies were significantly beyond him in pure science. He was here for a different purpose; transport and powering through he supposed.

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[bg=#555555]"Would have expected a more aggressive response from an omega ship,"[/bg] Dragonfly observed aloud, frowning at the transport in question. [bg=#555555]"Like hitting a beehive. Actions so far seem...tactically poor. Single troop transport, no visible escorts, no known attempt to set up a larger base unless they're digging into the moon. Short-range vessel without support or supplies? Impression has always been that Omega isn't that stupid."[/bg]

She tilted her head, tapping a finger against her leg. [bg=#555555]"Moving it safely...could be done. Spatial fold - big one. Displace the entire ship at once. Depending on mass, could do it myself; otherwise, would need time to set up. Better to neutralize threats first, though. If they are stuck, would rather not accidentally free them."[/bg]

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"Yes, it seems like they're hardly trying," Miss A agreed, a frown marring her lovely face. "You're right, Murdock, something is very off here. This isn't at all what I'd expect to see based on previous records of encounters with the Terminus. Despite the risk, we may have to get in close enough to actually interact with the drones if we want to solve this puzzle. Just obliterating them from space might solve our current problem, but we won't know where they came from, or if more are coming behind them."

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On further approach to the crashed starship, another signal came through their radio: "Embrace the glory of the Terminus. Surrender to Omega." There was another desultory blast, one that missed the heroes entirely, but this time Caradoc snapped his staff back and replied with a precisely-focused cosmic blast that silenced the offending turret. This time, though in that same mechanical voice, a new message came. "Do not approach this vessel. Surrender to Omega." Was there, perhaps, almost a note of a plea in that dead machine's voice?

"They have sustained serious damage to their engines," said Murdock almost distractedly, making a gesture at black scoring along the craft's rear. "As if they were being bombarded from behind..." Suddenly, as if seized by an inspiration, Murdock borrowed Miss Americana's communicator. Aiming it at the Terminus craft, which they were hovering just inches from, he barked with his usual bluntness, his sharp voice practically a shout given his usual flat, dry monotone. "What is wrong with this vessel? Why are you disobeying protocols?"

There was another silence, and then, suddenly, the voice broke in, "All glory to Omega. Opening rear entry doors." And with that, as if by command, the doors at the rear of the craft vibrated open, silently in the near vacuum of of space. Caradoc hesitated a moment, looked at the others, and then ducked to fly inside the open doors. At Miss A's signal, however, he drew back and let her go first into the metallic maw of the ship.

-

Inside, as the heroes entered, they found a grim, chaotic scene. First, the bodies: inside a forcefield cage too small for the tall Farsiders to stand up in, a half-dozen Farsider soldiers lay in various states of injury. Two were obviously dead, one by the unmistakable suppurating wounds left behind by a power pike. The other, left discarded by the opening of the cage door as if he was of no use, had died by what appeared to be forcible cybernetization: implants protruding from his opened skull suggested someone had attempted to replace his brain and he'd died of shock. The other four were battered and bruised and in various stages of injury, all of them bound and gagged in the bargain, but from the movements they made and the look in their eyes, they were all alive.

There was another empty cage across the way, one littered with torn rags and miscellenia, but the body of the ship was clear: Omegadrones traveled not in seats, but by directly securing their armor to hardpoints around the ship: it was a bit like a very high-tech subway car with riveted arms in place of straps. The damage to the ship's interior was more visible now even to people not familiar with Terminus tech: the panels were mostly dead and unlit, while the interior lights were an eerie red. Of course, those might have been emergency lights, or simply the local aesthetic.

In front of a small corridor leading front, ending behind them in a half-closed metal door, were the occupants of the craft: five Omegadrones, each cast like miniature versions of Murdock beneath their black, spiked metal armor and faceless, dehumanizing bodies. They were more gracile, smaller and sleeker than Harrier's bulky armor, but they were no less menacing behind the armor of the Terminus. As the other heroes entered, one gestured silently to the empty cage opposite, growing increasingly agitated if they did not in fact do so, and only really relaxed when Murdock entered behind them.

"All glory to Omega," intoned that leader, identifiable by a broken shoulder spike on his, or her, left arm. "Your prisoners are disobedient. Can they repair our vessel and our dimensional drive?" And from behind Broken Spike, another drone spoke, this one with a voice that was eerily familiar: a flat, dry monotone that was for all that still human. "Can you help us?"

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Miss A looked around the interior of the ship, assessing its condition with a glance even as she listened to the commands and requests being put forward by the various Omegadrones. Affecting a cowed mien, she stepped back to stand at Harrier's shoulder, whispering into his ear. "Tell them we can fix the ship, then demand to know what happened. Act with authority," she advised. "Buy some time while I try and get control." To Dark Star she murmured, "Try not to let me fall."

With that she closed her eyes, body swaying slightly as she gave up control of it to work on securing the craft itself. Terminus tech was not anything she was keen to mess with, but it was the fastest, safest way she could think of to shut this situation down.

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Dark Star quirked a non-existent eyebrow. He had no idea what she was doing, but her going limp had been a bit unexpected. He reached out and held her with telekinetic grip and nodded. "Never," he said, pulling her behind him, in case things got dicey. Apparently however, these other heroes didn't know too much about him... he would not stand by why there was suffering. Nor could he even make a passable attempt at falsehood.

"Of course we can assist you. If you have peaceful intent, then we are glad to help." Leaving Ms. A where she was, he moved forward towards the Farsiders but was keeping an 'eye' on the drones just in case. He replied to the Farsiders in their own tongue. "We'll have you out of there in a moment, I promise."

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It was only through an act of supreme will that Dragonfly didn't smack herself right in the armored forehead. smooth

She didn't say anything - she knew enough about diplomacy to know that she didn't tend to have any, and was better off keeping her mouth shut, whether or not their 'cover' had been blown - but she did move a bit closer to Miss Americana's body. The heroine might not be entirely sure what omega drones would do when confronted with a clearly free-minded, powerful hero wandering around in their ship, but she doubted it'd turn out well, and if Dark Star had to end up having to turn his attention to a fight she wasn't going to let a piece of engineering that impressive crack its head open on the floor.

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Caradoc's shiny silver armor melted away to reveal the cold black steel of the Terminus within. Harrier acted without hesitation as Dark Star spilled the beans: he cracked the crackling tip of his charged powerpike against the back of Dark Star's head, hard enough to rattle the gravitic hero's brain without actually injuring him. "Be _silent_, miserable space thing! Your promises will only earn them pain and teach you the delicious pleasure of the suffering of others." It was a little purple by normal standards, but Harrier sold it, because he believed it, because he'd heard people talk that way his whole life. To the leader of the drones, he said, "My designation is Harrier. My servants and I are here to repair your vessel and take it back to the Terminus. What happened here?"

"We...do not know," said the leader, and even in that drone's voice something like hesitation creeped in. "Our vessel crashed while we were in our assimilation chambers. When we emerged, the pilot had ceased to function and our direct connection to the Voice had been severed..."

"Our vessel is very heavily damaged," reported the drone behind Broken Spike seriously. "But the pilot's injuries are very strange. It looks as though a power pike was used against it from close quarters. We were not able to solve this mystery."

"Harrier does not need to hear about your failures!" said the other, a note in his voice almost like frustration. "We have maintained our ship, and taken prisoners," he added. "We have interrogated some, but none of them could identify how we came to be here, or how we could repair our vessel. Our attempts at assimilation were not successful. Or chambers were damaged by powerpike fire and by the crash."

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Dragonfly glanced around the ship, her helmet measuring and cataloging assorted damage and unfamiliar technology. Something just didn't feel right; she had an itch in her brain like she'd overlooked something, like she had a puzzle that was almost complete but the last few pieces weren't the right shape. The 'assimilation chambers' - as if they could be called anything else - were especially off, somehow. The design, or the size, or -

the size? - wait, what Her helmet took quick measurements of the pods, and quick measurements of the drones. She felt a little ill. [bg=#555555]"How old?"[/bg] she asked them. It wasn't great for pretending to be captured, but Dark Star had likely ruined that already. [bg=#555555]"Are you, I mean. Or were you. Before...'embracing the glory of the Terminus'."[/bg]

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The question seemed to take the drones aback. Before the leader could speak, another in the back said, "I was thirteen...," something which brought nods of acknowledgement from the others before the leader snapped, "All questions will be answered by the glories of Omega. Take her to the assimilation chamber and-" Harrier snapped his hand out and and lifted the young drone off his feet like a puppy, grabbing onto the spikes at the front of his armor like they'd been put there for just that purpose.

"You will listen to me," he growled in a voice like iron burning in a fire. "And you will give NO orders about my servants. Dark Star," he said suddenly, thinking quickly about the other man and his place there, hoping he hadn't just alienated him. "The lunar prisoners are of no value to this expedition and are consuming valuable resources. Send them where you need to send them. And no foolish talk! Dragonfly!" he barked, "Take those two," he said, pointing to the two smaller drones who had not spoken, "and take them to the front. See if you can salvage anything from the pilot or the navigation system."

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Rubbing the back of his head, Dark Star moved with uncommon thoughtfulness to the interior of the cell where the Farsiders waited. Without a word, perhaps because he might have betrayed them all again if he spoke, the sentient star opened a portal in the universe and gently sent the prisoners through into the darkling void. Focused as they were on the confrontation between Harrier and their leader, the little drones didn't notice (as Dragonfly did) the distinct outlines of Freedom Hall through the portal before Dark Star mercifully closed it.

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"Jesus Christ!" Miss A's eyes opened wide as she snapped back into control of her body, spine and limbs stiffening as she looked around. "They were running away from something. Something huge, big enough that it destroyed one of the planets they were absorbing. These are just goddamn noobs here, they're children who were kidnapped and shoved into the chambers while the ship was bailing." She was obviously deeply shaken by what she'd seen, words tumbling over each other half-intelligibly as the normally erudite paragon tried to explain the horror.

"Something was in space, in orbit of the planet, but orbit's not the right word for something the size of the planet itself. It was like a ball of snakes, but each one was hundreds or thousands of kilometers across, and they began to just tear into that planet like it was a popcorn ball. It had weapons, and one shot at this ship here as it flew through the dimensional warp, threw it off course, severed it from the Terminus. The big one, the one who'd rounded up the kids, he snapped out of it and started breaking things, screaming, praying." She looked at Murdock then. "He caused most of the interior damage. My god, if what this ship was running from followed them... we wouldn't have a chance in hell," she said bleakly.

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[bg=#555555]"Thousands of kilo-- the size of a planet?"[/bg] Even with her features hidden behind layers of metal, Dragonfly's posture showed that she was clearly staring at Miss Americana with a look of...just a look, trying to come to terms with something that size pulling a planet apart. [bg=#555555]"Explains the damage. Crazed drone. Don't know if it would have been the snapping out of it, or just snapping from the--"[/bg]

She remembered where she was, and the company she was keeping, and frowned. was supposed to be doing something? - keeping up appearances - mmh [bg=#555555]"....mmh. Salvage. Yes."[/bg] She gestured at the smaller drones, making her way over to the front of the ship. Once there (and trying very hard not to think about the company she was keeping) she flexed her hands, plates on her gauntlets shifting out of the way to deploy a number of thin tools and widgets. [bg=#555555]"So. Terminus technology. Time to see what makes it tick."[/bg]

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Dark Star snapped his head around quickly at Ms. A's explanation. He got very still. If his friends had been here they would have recognized the rare signs of true worry. "By the stars," he whispered. "This is significant problem...and a bit unusual as well. Where? What are the coordinates of the system? And how long ago did this take place? It will only take a moment to verify...but we _need_ to know which direction 'she' is headed." He quickly stood up. "I promise a full account will be made, but...this is a priority on a level that overshadows this damaged vessel."

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Scientist though she was, the first thing Dragonfly found was the body. What had once been an Omegadrone sat shoved into a corner of the small cockpit, having been placed there without sentimentality by the things that had once been its charges. She could make no features of the drone out: the damage to its head had been incredibly savage: it looked for all the world like something had gone in its face and erupted out the top of its head with spectacularly unpleasant results. Luckily, the vacuum meant no smell, and of course the drones themselves had efficiently cleaned up the stray organics. From the half-open pike across the drone's midsection, she could take a guess about its fate.

Inside the cockpit, she found a dizzying array of equipment only somewhat marred by organic mess: the crash damage was largely confined the body of the spacecraft, rendering it almost certainly unflyable but having preserved the stuff within: here were datachips and control surfaces, the control hardware for what was (by earth standards, anyway) an incredibly advanced spacecraft, the data for a small, powerful entropy core that was still in operation and whose running data helped give her insight into how to build them. Actually reading the readouts, while she gathered up their spare parts, wasn't particularly reassuring, however: though the entropy leak she was reading wouldn't hazard people in vacuum, it meant the ship itself would need a serious degaussing if she ever took it back to Earth.

Inside the rear, things were getting tense. "What do you mean you need to look over there?" said the leader drone, sounding more and more like a teenage boy filtered through a mechanical voicebox as he spoke. "All who hear the voice were recalled from that dimension! You have no business leaving your place!"

For his part, Harrier ignored him, his armored head turning towards Dark Star. "Entity 31966," said the former drone, sounding appalled through his persona. "I don't know what you call it," he added, "but the forces of the Terminus have encountered _her_ before. A being of power without end, driven by a desire to transform all organic life into her image...They must have encountered their dimension's version of 31966 when she came to their strand's Earth-variant. Fires of the Coil, if she came _there_, that means odds are good Prime's version might be coming _here_."

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"It was in a different dimension," Miss A told Dark Star, rubbing her head as though trying to soothe away a phantom ache. "I can hardly fathom that there might be more than one of those things, even between universes. It was so massive, so destructive. I don't know if the planet was Earth in that universe, it might have been. The sentients looked human, but then most of them do. I don't know how we'd have a prayer of stopping something like that, not if every hero on Earth took up into space and went after it."

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[bg=#555555]"Nothing's invincible,"[/bg] Dragonfly countered, making her way back into the rear. Most of the parts she'd just tossed into her dimensional pocket (provided they were inert); a few she'd had her two 'helpers' carry, just to give them something to do. And because if they had their hands full they'd be that much slower if they decided to try shoving a pike through her.... [bg=#555555]"Not gods, not even supposed immortals. Eve-"[/bg]

She caught herself, barely, before pointing out that even Omega had been driven off with his tail between his legs. [bg=#555555]"-rything has a weakness, solution. Just have to find it. Or hope it doesn't come up. Mmh - cockpit's...messy. But in okay shape. Salvaged some, but the ship's leaking entropy. Not safe to take out of vacuum. Only barely safe as-is. Need to patch, remove, or abandon."[/bg]

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Dark Star settled down for a moment. "That might buy us some time then," he said. He nodded to Harrier. "It is called the Gorgon. It normally assimilates whole planets. If it destroyed this last one, it was probably as a means from keeping it from the Drones. I have dealt with 'her' many times. She is immensely formidable. I've helped evacuate several worlds over the years. 'She' scares entire star empires. Most beings flee, and rightly so, if it is suspected she is heading their way." He pondered a moment. "I cannot stress enough the danger this could represent. If there is even the slightest chance she could head here, it needs to be verified." He glanced at Harrier; these were 'his' people after all. "Should I transport the Drones somewhere?"

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"Yes," said Harrier without hesitation, speaking before the young dronelings could process them further. "Dispatch them to the League holding center at McMurdo Station used for processing Omegadrones in 1993," he said sharply, remembering his own confinement there so many months ago. "The Antarctic brigade there will be able to hold them in place." He wasn't entirely sure what you had to do to be assigned to Freedom League Antarctica, but the heroes there had seemed professional enough despite their many personal problems. They were his priority, they'd have to be, but he could hardly ignore what was happening with Entity 31966. "And send me with them," he said, grabbing the lead drone by the collar. "Reach me by radio there if you must!"

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"Send Harrier and the drones to Earth," Miss A agreed with a nod to Dark Star, "then go check what you need to check. Dragonfly and I will work to secure the ship and see if there's anything else we can learn. A new example of Terminus tech is always useful for improving our defenses, if nothing else." Now that she knew these were just children inside the metal suits, she was uninterested in prolonging the facade. She just hoped they would prove receptive to deprogramming. "We'll be all right on our own for a little while," she added, looking to Dragonfly for confirmation.

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[bg=#555555]"Mmh,"[/bg] Dragonfly confirmed, distractedly, and waved a hand. Miss Americana could probably guess that she was sorting through whatever readings and technological information she'd (literally) dug out of the cockpit. [bg=#555555]"No immediate hazard. No atmosphere. Slows or stops entropy leak. Probably would have noticed if giant snakes were already here, too. Am sure we can salvage, patched, moved. Miss Americana and me, I mean. Worst we should have to deal with is adjusting to new designs. And that part's fun."[/bg]

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Dark Star nodded in agreement. He sent off a quick message to the base on Earth; having a bunch of Omegadrones suddenly appear in their laps might upset some folks. At least this way they would get a little warning. Not much of course; but something was better than nothing, right? A bit of focused will and a portal suddenly opened up; a moment later the drones were all safely away. He closed the portal and turned to the ladies. "I will check the equivalent locations, at best guess, and surrounding systems just to be sure. I won't be gone long," he said before rocketing away.

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In the depths of interstellar space, Dark Star had a moment to relax when he got there and found no planet-killing monster waiting for him. He was near Altair, perhaps some twenty light years from Earth, though far enough from the system that the rapidly-rotating star was simply a very bright, very small circle off to his relative left. For a moment, everything looked normal. Until he heard the transmissions, wave after wave of them, all but bombarding his radio senses: prayers, distress calls, pleas for help: he recognized Lor, and even Grue out there in the void. When he reached his mind out, lightyears and lightyears away, he saw them coming: starships in the dozens, fleeing whatever lay behind them like ships fleeing a tidal wave. And from one, a Lor military vessel, came the simple message: the Vegan colony had been Preserved. The Gorgon was again on the move in the Sagitarrius Arm. Gods help them all.

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Dark Star's concerns had proved to be valid ones. He quickly communicated to the evacuation fleet even as he let his own senses reach out. It was definitely not good either way. He estimated her current course and got some more bad news. He double checked his findings, as well as the rescue/survivor fleet before turning and flashing back to the moon.

Only a few minutes had passed before he returned, quickly coming to a stop inside the vessel. He addressed Ms. A and Dragonfly. "We have a significant problem. Unfortunately my cautious proved to be correct. The Gorgon is close; 25 light years away, which is obviously not too far in galactic distances. Worse, her current course will eventually bring her almost directly in line with this solar system. By my calculations and estimates, we have approximately one month before she gets here."

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Miss Americana's hands went still over the board she was examining. Slowly she turned to look at Dark Star. "A month?" she asked hollowly. "One month before a planet-sized planet-killer comes along and rips us to shreds? What are we supposed to do with a month?" Her whole body gave a single spasmodic twitch, then she took a deep breath and seemed to gather herself. "What do you know about this thing?" she asked Dark Star. "What does it want? Is there a way to negotiate with it, bluff it or head it off somehow?"

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