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Ghosts of the Past Pt 1
🕑 Added 2023-09-08 00:10:09 +0000 UTC[SPOILER]
[X] Plan: Delay the Purge
-[X] TNDI
--[X] Omen
-[X] Zalph
--[X] Scrap Disposal
-[X] Kaziin
--[X] Rescue Mechanical Men
--[X] Mastery of Craft
[/SPOILER]
OMEN was, on first look, not all that different from Bxisis. As they entered the hallway, TNDI noted the lights, dim and flickering: the area had power. "Vlaahk, what can I expect?"
"I have no idea," The auton admitted casually. "When I stormed this place, my focus was on different areas entirely."
"Well that's helpful," TNDI said, raising her scanner as she looked over the first door. Definite energy spikes, repeating. That wasn't the only oddity she was noticing: she was also getting bad vibrations. The nekronet upgrades she had installed were going off badly: a sensation that resulted in an emotion that in an organic would be the equivalent to feeling a nervous chill on the back of her neck. "Do you at least know the state of security PRIOR to the organocide?" She asked.
"Standard auton complement, some non-networked defenses such as turrets. You should be fine," Vlaahk responded.
Everything seems fine.
What rooms do you breach?
Lab B-02M: One of the labs that was researching the warp. High electrical readings, repeating in tandem. Apparently involved researching the warps effect on inorganic matter. Anyone who approached it except for the Hobbgrots felt a strange pang of anxiety and fear.
Lab L-02L: Another lab. Lifesigns: a large immobile organism was in this lab. Apparently, the purpose of this lab was researching warp exposure on organic matter, in order to investigate the possibility of transporting food through the warp. A thick, meaty gurgle could be heard now and again.
Security MMM: This facility didn't appear on the map. The entrance-way was somewhat crooked in the middle, tilting at an odd angle. A strange orange light came from it that caused the metal it shined on to grow whitish flesh. Precautions would likely have to be taken.
Archive WHAT: This archive contains a level four access code, several gene keys, kill yourself, and likely information on a few projects you might be interested in do it now. Unfortunately, it hates you and thinks you should put yourself out of its misery shoot yourself in the face, meaning it will almost certainly be somewhat difficult to explore and you should absolutely try to eat glass, it will not hurt you
((((()))))
The scrapyard was deathly silent as they walked through it. On all sides they were surrounded by dead autons, left, right, below. The very ground they walked on was a carpet of scrap, mechanical corpses and parts. Byt gave a dry swallow. He had seen some pictures of ancient scraplands, the ones that had existed before the advent of mega-recycling. They had always seemed so eerie: just graveyards full of dead, discarded machines, tossed away like garbage. The feeling here was like that, but far more visceral: the difference between seeing a oubliette in a picture and walking among the butchered bodies, the Tekket supposed.
Vlaahk likely concurred, considering how quiet they were being. "So, uh, how much further to the security junction?" Byt said, scurrying over a fallen machine, one that seemed to be a bipedial crane-bot of some sort, even as Vlaahk clambered alongside them.
"It isn't much further," Vlaahk said, somber. "We just need to climb over a few hundred more dead autons," They said placidly, and Byt winced. Yeah, definitely not taking this place well.
"Uh, for what it's worth, I'm-"
"Please don't say that you are sorry. It would mean nothing," Vlaahk said, not stopping as they hopped off the machine on the other side. "Besides, it isn't your fault. It..." They sighed. "I shouldn't even be angry. What right do I have to be upset, to be furious, especially after what we did? At least the people who did this are all dead," They noted bitterly.
"It's not like you knew what the artefact would do," Byt noted, and for a moment, the Auton was silent as their team continued their trek.
"Perhaps. But because I didn't, an entire civilization, an entire SPECIES is dead," The autonite responded softly. "Someone must be held accountable for that."
"Yeah, whoever made the artefact," Byt argued. "You aren't responsible for getting infected by an adaptive computer virus designed to eradicate organics, any more than Koptu, Ijin, or even Marjak were," He pointed out.
"Ijin was a civilian vessel and Koptu didn't have my experience identifying and neutralizing malware and hostile AI's," Vlaahk responded simply, stepping over a limbless Auton whose head-light kept flickering on and off, before another long silence. "I had no excuse: I should have seen it for what it was, or quarantined myself after being infected. I was still cognizant during the early stages of infection to be mostly in control of myself, remember."
Byt doubted that: perhaps Vlaahk had been functional during the initial stages of their corruption by the logic virus, but that wasn't the same thing as being sane or in possession of ones faculties. Unfortunately, the engineer wasn't sure what he should say. What COULD you say, really? Vlaahk was right: an entire civilization had been murdered, top to bottom. Even if it hadn't been Vlaahks fault, he had still been used as the medium by which the act was accomplished.
If Byt was in his shoes, he'd probably feel horrible too. Still, he felt he probably should say something...
CHARACTER MOMENT
Some parts of Trek are big action scenes, some are philosophical examinations, some parts are morality fables, and now, we get a character moment, a small bit of personal drama between two characters that helps build investment.
Your goal here to to try and cheer up Vlaahk at least a little: write in a method to do so. Distraction, arguments, redirect. Using your best analysis of Vlaahk's character, try to come up with something Byt could say/do/ask to improve his mood. Keep it relatively shortish: I'm looking for a few sentences at most.
[ ] Insert Character Moment Here.
Meanwhile, you have successfully bought yourself 3 turns, meaning you have 6 turns until the systems purge! You've selected the Scrap Disposal area as your first stop, meaning you have the following routes and detours available:
[ ] Scrap-Processing: Where the dead were taken to be processed into replacement parts or raw material. The most direct route to the Positron brain.
[ ] Maintenance Bay JAWAS: A second entry point into the facility, intended to serve as a vehicle service bay. If it could be brought online, reinforcements from the Discovery could be called. It would take longer to reach the Positron Brain from this position, however.
[ ] Lab ONX-05-Q: A moderate security laboratory that prior to the closing of this facility had been used to research alloys. Vlaahk wanted to bring it back online as a gift to HUERCUS: otherwise, this Route was a somewhat inefficient but not terrible way to get closer to both the Positron Brain and the shortcut.
[ ] Old Station Morgue: A detour that Vlaahk believed would interest Marjak and help buy the AI's goodwill: they wanted it brought back online. Apparently it still contained a great deal many preserved tissue samples and, more importantly, medical equipment. To spice up its appeal, Vlaahk noted it was likely to have a few gene-keys that could be useful.
[ ] Workshop OTHOR: A detour permitted by the security codes gained from Marjak, this facility led closer to HUERCUS's shortcut. However, according to gathered intel, OTHOR was where the regime had tested weapons at one point. Large ones specifically: the regime had apparently had a fondness for shock and awe tactics. These machines were likely still alive, and potentially infected.
((((()))))
And so the magicians would go into the night alongside the Watchmakers they had rescued from the Dungeon, bringing with them behind their defenses the mechanical men of the City: not all of them, not even most of them, but whoever they could bring with them, whisked away in the daytime shadows.
A mere few hundred, but that had been a mere few hundred more than had survived before. There, the nails in their heads were removed, allowing them to think clearly. And while this was done, the Alchemist stayed behind, drinking a special potion, blessed by the Lady of Artifice. With this blessing, the Alchemist would be inspired to shape from stone and earth and metal great works. From clay, they would shape an army, another group of spirits to act as warriors to protect the inhabitants of the Dungeon. From granite, he would hew great and mighty walls for these men of clay to stand upon and defend, one at each gate. From mechanism, they would forge clever siege engines and devices to mount these walls.
Soon, they were met with their foe. The Prince of Graves, riding a great, shadowy steed. "Interesting," The cursed prince sneered, approaching the wall under cover of parley. "It seems that this place is no longer in the dominion of the sovereign. You've gone off script," It pointed out. "This is not how the tale transpires."
"What care do we have for what has transpired?" The Alchemist responded from atop their fortification. "Why must we be hewn to the paths that have been trod before? This is a place of dream- metaphor, not reality."
"If this is mere metaphor, what gain is there for supplying a new ending?" The Prince of Graves responded smartly, and for a moment the wall the Alchemist was on trembled. "After all, no matter how many you save in this realm, when you return to that world of flesh, they will still be dead."
"Just because something is dream does not make it real," The Alchemist countered, and the wall stilled: so that was his gain, eh? "Lest not for the souls that sleep within it. Even if in the realm of flesh they can never return, that does not mean we cannot ease the burdens they have brought with them and give them, if not peace, then at least a degree of relief," They finished.
"And yet what does their suffering matter to you? It will not profit you or your mission," The Prince responded, and once more a tremor rocked through the walls. "You could walk away now, and nothing in reality would change."
"Just because one can ignore suffering does not mean it does not exist," The Alchemist argued, once more stilling the shaking. "The only path to happiness is to lead a just life: that means easing the burdens of others to the extent one can without harming them. It is within my power to save these souls: therefor to be happy I must save them."
"Very well," The Prince of Graves conceded. "Your logic is sound. We have strayed beyond the bonds of divination and into the realms of hypothetical, so I shall act in accordance with my role in this play, and emulate his own actions. I shall permit you peace from my wrath, on the condition that you give me the Emissary: his crimes are many, and his life is forfeit."
You have successfully defended the Metal Gate yet again. However, now you are met with a choice: you may give the echo to the Prince to do with as he wishes, sparing you the princes wrath, or you may protect them: even the guilty do not deserve torment in death.
[ ] Surrender the Emissary: One sacrifice for the many. One who served as the hand of the Sovereign. If there are any who deserve to be cast out into the dark and exiled from the ark, it is he. Buy peace with the Prince of Graves.
[ ] Save the Emissary: Even if it would buy peace, the Emissary did not deserve the fate that awaited them. Perhaps in life they had committed the actions attributed to them, but this was not life, and their actions for the past few centuries had merely been a script they were forced into. Fight for the salvation of the Emissary.
Meanwhile, regardless you will have bought time to prepare. Select one form this preparation will take. Should you sacrifice the Emissary, an additional option will provide salvation.
[ ] A Line in the Sand: It will be drawn between them and us, and demarcate how far we will allow them to approach us. Those who we deem our enemies will not be allowed to pass.
[ ] A Bonfire: It will be fed on hopes and dreams, a great light. We will use its smoke and shadow to weave a bridge through dream.
[ ] A Bell: Serenity. Peace. From the ice of the mind they had created a bell whose ringing would banish dark forces away from the Dungeon. It would be rung thirteen times from the heart of the dungeon.
