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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2138276-Subversion-Ch2
by Gl17cH
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Emotional · #2138276
Our twisted tale and Arro's search continues as he retraces his steps from disaster.
Subversion Chapter 2
When Arro finally awoke from his sleep the bright light of the late afternoon sun was shining through the cracked stone masonry of the tavern which now served as his shelter. He could feel the stone was still warm from the fires the night before but everything still seemed surreal from his vantage point on the Hearth of the tavern's fireplace as he watched powdery ash linger in the beams of sunlight and intermittent cinders dance through the light as they fell. Absolute silence reigned save for the quiet whispering of the wind outside and the occasional crack of the cooling stone or smoldering wood.

Fighting to keep his eyes open he couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't dreaming, or still dreaming, as he tried to recall the events from the night before. Everything was hazy at best, and absent at worst. Vague memories of burning down the village and speaking to someone about the empress come to mind but little more, not even when and how he got inside this tavern to take a nap.

Clearing the sleep from his eyes with his paw he took stock of the situation, trying to jog his memory as he lay there. The tavern's roof has mostly collapsed to the floor, what little that remains is being suspended by charred timbers and trusses which even now creak and crack under the weight. much of the décor has been destroyed, some pieces having been crushed by falling beams and burned, others merely scorched. Old barrels, lay splintered and scorched in suspiciously clean portions of the floor even as more, less damaged ones, lay behind the remnants of the bar.

He wasn't sure if he had been drinking the night before but the minor aches of having spent a long morning sleeping on solid rock spurred him to try and stand, rolling to his paws was a struggle but he managed to shakily rise from the floor of the fireplace. He wasn't fully awake yet and he knew it the instant as the dry taste of soot and bile overtook his mouth. Apparently, his sense of taste finally caught up with his other five senses. Shaking off the shock of the taste he stretched and stand to his full height to the best of his ability on wobbly legs, leaving him brushing his head against the Fireplace's arch.

Shrugging off his momentary confusion as to why he's larger than usual Arro carefully stepped down from the Hearth, avoiding the debris of the fire and the broken glass of the establishment's abandonment as he made his way under and around collapsed roofing joists. Some parts of which were burnt to ash while others seemed entirely untouched.

At his increased size it only took him a few long strides to reach the bar, across the room. The rich scents of scorched cedar and the hot bready smell of ale filled the air here as he got a better look at what fate befell this side of the room. For all the fluids stored here the bar still suffered incredible damage, entire sections of it have burnt away to nothing more than char and ash held together by a thin strand of heartwood, like the roofing joists however there were parts which survived the flames quite well. Ducking through a char hole in the bar's façade Arro found where the scent of ale was coming from as the casks of ales and beers scorched from the inferno the night before dribble their contents onto the floor. Groggy as he is Arro contemplated lapping the stale mixture of soot and beer off the floor, but thought better of it as the taste of ash and bile reasserted themselves. Opting instead to dig up a tin pail from the rubble of the bar and let the slow trickle fill it instead.

Watching the dribble of liquid as it steadily filled the pail Arro felt as his foggy memory was returning, holes filling in almost as slowly as the bucket in front of him. Sighing to himself he sat down in the sticky puddle on the floor and waited. At the halfway mark he could recollect seeing Kyo, and even reconstruct some of what he had said, but it all seemed so unreal, almost like a fever dream after the fact. Three quarters of the way full He gently pulled the pail from under the stream, sloshing the dark golden liquid within as he moved it away from the casks to keep from wearing more of the musty liquid than he already was.

Small flecks of ash and rust drifted through the liquid, he couldn't help but think that with how old it was it was probably predominantly vinegar mildly flavored with hops and tetanus or botulism. None of it could hurt him but it wouldn't be the most pleasant drink in the world. Steeling himself for the worst he lapped at the liquid and found it wasn't as bad as he had thought. While it wouldn't be fit for human consumption it tasted only slightly sour, not unlike treated rainwater, with the residual bitter taste of hops, charcoal, and the slightest tinge of iron. Thinking back, he decided as far as breakfast drinks go, this certainly isn't the worst.

Even in contemplation he stopped himself before he hit the bottom of the pail and the sooty mud it contained and replaced it under the trickle of fluids from the casks, noting that something felt... off as he did so. Looking around he didn't notice anything odd, a quick sniff let him know that no new scents had come anywhere nearby, and muddled as they are his psychic senses still let him know that nobody living was near enough to give him this sense of unease. Letting his gaze fall on the things around him, he saw nothing of particular note, several busted bottles which formerly held distilled spirits and one that withstood the flames and still held what appeared to be a strong port.

Putting the feeling to the back of his mind as much as he could he wrapped a tail around the surviving bottle and pulled it free of the wreckage as he sat there. Looking at his pail slowly filling he flicked a tail through the neck of the bottle, shearing it clean in a single stroke and spilling some of the cooling red liquid on himself in the process. Bringing the bottle and his wine stained tail in front of him he mumbled "egh, I'm definitely gonna need a bath after this." Before taking a swig of the wine. Counting every blessing he had that it tasted exactly as it should, like fortified wine.

Arro's memories came flooding back to him, along with several forgotten tastes from the night before as he stifled a belch. The combined tastes of hoppy rainwater, cheap wine, and bile doing nothing to cover the all too familiar taste of liquified fat, soot, and blood... standing up from the puddle and Looking down at his belly between his legs he noticed the slight bulge in his midsection that marked what was different about this morning, He wasn't hungry, and as his mind put the pieces together he had difficulty in discerning as to whether it was a pleasant or unsettling change of pace. Poking at the bulge with one of his paws he felt a solid mass shift with a liquid gurgle. The rabbit was shot down his throat was in there, no doubt, but there was no way it was still alive. Sighing to himself he sat back down, stifling another belch as he brought his bottle back to his lips to try and drown out the taste.

Three quarters of the way through his bottle he paused to take a breath and inspect both the bottle and the pail. Finding both mostly empty he spoke to no-one in particular "What a fucked-up way to go... Burnt, eaten alive, and drowned in booze...". Swirling the remainder of the wine in the bottle he thought over the events of the night before, they seemed unreal, he could have hallucinated all of it. but his gut held compelling evidence to the contrary, horrific and distasteful though it may be.

Finishing off the rest of his wine he thought over what it would take to follow through with what Kyo's ghost had said, to get back to the Empress he would need to cross dimensional boundaries, without a Gateway generator or Teleportation rig that would take a lot of magic. Even then, going back to the Empress would be like walking into a graveyard, his Friends and family are buried there in that wreckage somewhere... A little magic and some mental anguish for the chance to get back at who did this to them... He smiled as he thought it over, It was a small price to pay.

Looking at his pail of beer, still slowly filling from the trickle he decided against drinking any more of it. he had places to go, people to kill, and no time to waste waiting on slow dribbles of long ruined beer. Getting back on his feet he contemplated his options, Magic mirrors are cheap but effective where you can find a smooth reflective surface, Shadow gates are likewise cheap but require absolute darkness to work, and dimension doors are somewhat costly and time consuming as it requires a drawn-out ritual to even open one.

A plan formed in his head as he carefully made his way around the fallen pieces of timber and broken glass of the tavern and out its door. The town well, polluted though it may be, would make an excellent magic mirror with a backup of being one of the few places he could shadow-gate from without having to go to a cave or into the deep ocean, So he'd go there and try to travel from there. Quick, Simple, and straight to the point. Catching wind of himself he decided the plan had a side benefit, he could take the opportunity to bathe while he was at it.

As he passed by the scorched structures of the village Arro had an odd sense of relief fall over him. The aches and pains he had felt earlier melted away along with the worries he had lived with for centuries Almost like he had burnt the bridge to a horrible place, sealing it in his past forever so that he can giddily chase after a new adventure. Thinking about it, that's exactly what he had done. He had no choice but to leave now, there was no more psychic residue, no more places to hide, no more food, and no more excuses to not move on.

He rounded the bend to the town plaza, and caught sight of the town well, still standing and completely unharmed by last night's fires. Trotting up to it he found one benefit of his oversized form, where usually he could barely see over the lip without jumping up onto it now he could easily look over the ledge and down at the murky water below. Seeing his reflection staring back at him he noted the water was deep, dark, and reflective, a perfect combination for what he was about to do. Clambering up on the ledge he focused what magic he had, to his nose and forepaws concentrating on piercing the reflection, diving through it. He let the feeling of energy crackle across his snout and paws for a moment before hopping off the ledge and down the well.

The crackle intensified with the rush, turning into full blown arcs of golden psychic energy mere feet from contacting the water's surface. His paws hit first, landing solidly against the water's surface, bowing it in as if it were a sheet of plastic distorting his reflection into a silvery blur. It held him there for a second as the energy in his paws arched through it's surface, bowing it further under his weight before his nose bumped into it too causing the surface to burst, dropping him into the silvery liquid beneath.

Arro had to concentrate on not panicking for a moment as he quickly sank into the ether, it's warm touch almost unfamiliar and startling after centuries of exile. Sinking in entirely he felt the tear close up behind him and had to remind himself to breath and find the reflection he needed. As the currents of the reflected world churned around him he saw images of places near and far, inside people's homes and in places long forgotten, from puddles and car mirrors, but none of these interested him. Shaking his head, he focused, trying to find one reflective object on the empress that would have survived.

What felt like an eternity of searching, checking for the laser resistant hull of one of their jet-bikes or starfighters, searching for the many broad mithril blades they often played with, and even looking for the shine of the empress's adamantine bulkheads he found a way in. In the form of a pool of mercury from the Empresses spatial dampeners pooled up on the floor. Willing the reflection closer, he saw the central console of the Empress, it's temporal rotor towering over it as it always had, but in place of a ceiling a dark void stretched off into infinity, that same void extended beyond broken cracks in the bulkheads. and even from cracks in the rotor itself. The Empress's extradimensional nature was shining through.

This wasn't the first time He'd seen the interior of an extradimensional space, but this was the first time he saw the empress as one, she usually had a nice tidy internal structure that protected them from the crushing darkness of empty space around them. After watching the darkness seethe at the edge of where walls should be he decided he had come this far, he might as well continue. Focusing some magic to one paw he pierced the veil again, and only after finding some traction on the other side hauled himself up and out of the puddle of liquid metal.

As the reflective ooze rolled off of his nose he caught the sweet scent of Ozone mingling with dust and nitrous oxide, shaking it off of his coat he felt the electric buzz of electronics frying themselves, and blinking it clear of his eyes he could see segments of the once great battleship crackling with grey-white energies as they dematerialize and rematerialize at the Damaged ship's command. Most disturbing of all, however, was something his physical senses couldn't detect. The ship's overmind, a powerful psychic construct that is capable of perceiving all time and space, a construct which has always been as he would describe it "asleep", "dreaming" of the realities they have commanded it to in order for them to travel between one and another, was now most undeniably awake. He could feel the alien consciousness perceive him, almost like it's gaze pierced his very soul, and was judging him for everything he has and ever will have done in his life.

He had never been afraid of the empress before, even when it was explained as being alive, but now that he felt it's presence he couldn't help but be terrified. This thing wasn't like anything he'd ever encountered, he couldn't sense anything but it's gaze, a sensation that would be the psychic equivalent to the sound of rocket exhaust and the tactile sensation of an avalanche. It was powerful enough to perceive all of time and space, to rearrange it on a whim, and to top it all off It had been enslaved from its "birth" to power a vessel of war. His psyche was nowhere near buckling but he felt the gaze subside, and new emotions, some of which humans could never experience, flood through his mind.

Sorrow, Joy, hope, fear, loneliness, and what would be best described as optimism swirled in his mind, remaining distinct of one another rather than mixing for the briefest of moments. Followed swiftly by the sensations ceasing altogether. Arro's terror, and confusion, didn't dissipate so quickly although he was more than relieved that it didn't want him gone this instant, he couldn't imagine what it would do to him, but he knew there wasn't much it couldn't do if it so desired. A dull beep drew his attention to the primary console in the center of the room, looking at it he saw the terminal flicker to life, pouring over volumes of text before going black and blinking plain white text at him...

Guessing the Empress had something she wanted to tell him he cautiously made his way over to the console to get a better look. It took him a moment to read the blinking and flickering text but he felt his heart sink as he read the words "Cannot detect other crewmembers, please input requested crewmember status when prompted" and they disappeared from the screen. Quickly replaced by the name "Deveroux"

Arro didn't know what to say or do at this, but as memories of what happened to Deveroux, Quetza's "Sister" from another dimension. Flashed into memory he felt tears start welling up, another casualty in a war they shouldn't have been fighting in. Taking on a battlefleet is no small task, even for a well equipped warship and a crew of the most powerful mortal entities in the multiverse. She had gotten too far in, their shields overlapped and the empress couldn't provide covering fire for her anymore. All
Arro... any of us... could do was watch as the combined railgun bursts of a dozen ships ripped her to shreds... stifling a sniffle and linking away the start of the tears Arro looked at the console tried his best to speak calmly "Deceased."

The machine paused for a moment, before flickering and a new name came across the screen. "Garragan", Memories of the twelve-foot-tall soldier flickered to the front of his mind. The man had fought through three wars, come out on top of two of them and was well on his way to retirement before he got assigned to the empress by his superiors... He went out fighting as was his way, and fought harder than ever before once his meds wore off. They couldn't even recover his body after the third bombing run on his position, the radiation was far too high for that. Arro knew what the ship was doing was protocol, but he still couldn't help but hate it for even asking. He tried and failed twice to articulate what had happened to Garragan before he managed a weak "Dead" that the computer could understand.

He felt a twinge of emotion from the machine, almost as if it was hurt to hear so many of its crew were gone. But still the terminal only paused for a moment before the name changed with a flicker of static. "Kyo" Arro choked up as he read the name, everything he had discussed with the ghost of his alternate the night before came flooding back along with the loneliness, he had promised they'd meet again, but he couldn't know how long that would be... He knew the real answer, and it hurt, he was gone. "H-He's gone."

The pause was longer this time, and he could sense hesitance from the ship, along with a twinge of anguish. The screen flickered and the name of the last person he wanted to explain wouldn't return came across the screen. "Terek?" Terek had shared a bond, almost like master and servant while the empress slept. He didn't know how this omnipotent construct will react, and that scared him, worst of all Terek was the last to die... He was inadvertently responsible for Terek's death, he didn't help him, he couldn't, he would have been killed too. Realizing he had unconsciously lowered his head, tucked his tails, and laid his ears back he took a breath and looked back to the screen, finding that the text had changed "Where is Terek?"...

This confused him, usually she would wait for response, wait for some auditory or text indication that the viewer had seen and understood the query. The text changed again as he was looking at it, and he could feel emotions boiling beneath the surface as the empress printed out "Arro, please. Where is my captain?" he couldn't understand what was happening, she had never actually engaged in true conversation before, he wanted to run but found himself frozen there as he mulled over the answer he could... should... give. Giving up he took a breath and tried to use his calmest voice, which cracked and waivered in the ocean of emotion he was drowning in even without the empress's help, "He's gone too empress... everyone's gone."

Emotions boiled under the surface of the empress, Arro could feel them, it almost felt like reality itself was shaking as the terminal flickered and sputtered with incomprehensible text. He sat there waiting for the eventual backlash, wondering if he was going to be disintegrated for delivering the bad news. The backlash never came, but the terminal shut down rather audibly and the lights waivered in intensity. Arro could feel the sorrow rolling off of the empress, she was mourning... He could understand that all too well...

He sat there in her presence for some time waiting to see if she would talk to him, but after what seemed like an hour of sitting in front of the powerless terminal he stood. Looking down the corridors to check and see if he could go down them he saw that several were impassable due to destabilization, there were a couple he could just barely make it down. One of the corridors lead to the hangar bays and armory, the other the crew quarters and entertainment section in a roundabout way.

Stealing a glance back at the console he sighed and turned down the corridor to the hangar bay. If anything, he might be able to find a map or written note they had left behind that would explain what he needed to do, because empress isn't going to be telling him anything herself for a while. The corridors were littered with twisted pieces of the bulkhead, yet their pearly white finish, accentuated with the prismatic sparkle of fractured alien crystal made them appear clean. Thinking about it Arro had always wondered how this ship remained so clean and tidy, even with him and the others actively making a mess of it with their personal projects.

As he passed the sealed doors to the various ship launches he remembered the countless missions which started here, millions of worlds visited, who knows how many fates changed, all in the pursuit of their end goal. He couldn't help but wonder what the end result of their meddling was, hundreds of despots assassinated, utopias collapsed, one-of-a-kind artefacts stolen. When they had done it all they thought they were doing the right thing, setting the multiverse back in balance...

The massive blast doors that used to keep the hangar bay corridor sealed in flight hung limply from their hydraulic frames, bent outwards from the force of some blast which had ripped through the old girl's innards. Carefully making hopping over the gap left in the wake of the damaged blast doors Arro found himself in the familiar confines of the hangar bay, the massive room still showing signs of having been an efficient military launching point in spite of the damages it has received. The walls have buckled outwards and the crystal spires which had helped in projecting defensive shields have long since splintered.

Throughout the room individual workstations tooled to the assembly, repair, and maintenance of weapons, starfighters, and robots lay in disarray. Some seemingly having caught the worst of whatever blast ripped the blast doors off their mountings, others having caught shrapnel damage in the aftermath. All of them had been in use when the empress went down, he knew at least one of them was assembling nothing but ammunition for the larger guns onboard the ship in case they ever needed to be brought to bear. Looking around he noted none of them seemed to finish their appointed tasks before something much larger caught his eye.

In the centre of the room the various spacecraft they had gathered in their journeys are strewn about, disconnected from their docking clamps. The largest of which, The prankster's gambit, a multirole Frigate lays sandwiched between the floor and ceiling, supporting the bulk of the weight with her hull. To her left Lay the Nocturne and Mjolnir, a pair of medium freighters and the Rubbermade a light freighter, all of which were piled along with their associated fighter craft where their overhead mountings dropped them in the crash. Even as heavily armored as they are, Arro doubted any of them would ever fly again, let alone fight like they used to.

Of all the things left in this bay he had no clue where to begin searching, the Prankster's Gambit had the most advanced navigation console but he could tell her cockpit was crushed even from where he stood. The nocturne was stuck on her side, which put her entry ramps opening to the floor and ceiling, and the Mjolnir was stuck on her back like a turtle which put her entryways on her top. Leaving the Rubbermade which had he navigation console removed for as Garan put it "sentimental reasons"... He wasn't entirely sure what Garan meant by that but he was aware that it was replaced with a mini-fridge at one point which doesn't really help him at this moment.

Sitting down in a huff Arro tried to think of a plan, something to get him onboard one of these vessels that wouldn't wind up wasting a lot of time and energy, both of which he had very little. Even as his eyes glazed over in thought his tails set to lashing around behind him in aggravation. The Docking clamps were no good, even if he could power them on they were just dangling from the ceiling, their attractors would just rip them free to stick to whatever they were pointing at. He didn't have a lot of physical strength to spare, so he couldn't exactly grow larger and risk burning the extra calories. Worst of all, with the limited supply of energy he was working with he couldn't just use magic to move them.

One of his tails striking something caught his attention as it sent whatever it had hit rolling with a gentle clattering noise, not unlike the sound of a copper fitting rolling across the floor. Looking at its source watched as a bullet rolled across the floor for several feet before coming to rest beside one of the workstations nearby. Shrugging off the ships for now he followed the little lost bullet and ever so carefully picked it up with his tails.

He wasn't the ship's weapons expert, that distinction fell solely on Deveroux, but this little munition was all too familiar to him, it was a seventy-five-caliber ramjet assisted light explosive armor piercing round, he had helped develop them for personal weapons after they had difficulties with power armor equipped foes... played it off as trying to manufacture a gun for himself at the time since most everyone else had a gun of one sort or another. On full auto the guns they had built to fire these could turn a main battle tank inside out and still have clip capacity to spare, the only thing that outclassed them that threw slugs were railguns, but man-portable railguns were always so hard to come by. Curiosity piqued He glanced around to try and find where this lone bullet had come from and found many more by some ruptured crates and an automated workstation. Thousands of shells were strewn about without any sign of a weapon to fire them.

Sighing, he flicked the round away. If there's anything in the armory he can use he might come back and scavenge some ammo, but if this part of the ship was so badly damaged he doubted the armory would fare better. On a whim, he climbed up on the station he was at to get a look at what was on it, and get a better vantage point. This station was remarkably barren having only a few FTL drive components sitting on it, probably either set up before the drive was removed or leftover after an overhaul of one of the smaller fighter craft drives. The higher vantage point offered him no better of a view, The hangar bay was dead, besides him there was nothing moving around, the quiet Crackling and buzzing of far off electrical arcs was the only sound he could hear until some section of the ship rematerialized adding the sound of a strong breeze to the mix. In spite of knowing he was alone he couldn't shake the feeling that something was there with him, watching him.

His sixth sense told him the empress was still "away" and was not consciously observing him, so that wasn't who he was sensing, Shrugging off the feeling Arro stopped to think, Going over the map of the empress in his head, trying to figure out where to go from here. He knew the infirmary was close by, as were the arsenal and the crew quarters, but with the empress grieving he didn't know which would be a good place to look. Cursing Kyo under his breath for not being more specific as he guessed at what might be pertinent... He guessed some clue may be in the Crew quarters, and even if there isn't he could try and get into the ship's secondary computers from the entertainment section of the vessel just past them.

This place was starting to creep him out in a way he hadn't felt in a long time, almost like something soulless was watching him from some hidden corner. Hopping down from the table Arro didn't bother slowing himself much, loping easily over the scattered debris of the hangar-bay floor to get to the next corridor. Putting as much distance between himself and that feeling as quickly as he could manage. Even though the feeling passes as he darted through the open archway to the crew quarters corridor he didn't slow until he had rounded a few corners into the living spaces, ensuring whatever it was would have a harder time of finding him.

In and amongst the hundreds of doorways of the crew cabins He felt a sort of nostalgia. the metallic doors and the crystalline nameplates on them bringing up memories of everyone who had joined them in their quest... Gone now, either retired or dead. The former undoubtedly luckier than the latter, as fate would have it. Arro read the names and tried to remember the faces they belonged to, he had some luck in that and could even conjure a convincing enough illusion of some of them to trick the biometric lock on their doors. He had no use for entering their rooms, he just did it to check and see how well he remembered them.

He continued this pattern for a while, reading off names and attempting to trick the locks they belong to until he came across one he recognized all too well... James Daelman... His father... Arro felt a twinge of grief as he tried to pull up memories of him and found them fleeting at best. Sitting down in front of the door, Sorrow crept in as he sifted through what few he could remember, It felt as though he didn't remember him at all. His disposition worsening as he realized the years were only partly to blame. They had gone out of their way to find the man, bring him back from exile, and all Arro had done is have but the briefest of conversations with him because he was so caught up in adventuring. Thinking back father always seemed lost in the void, probably trying to see into the future, or trying to find mother... Perhaps he just foresaw the pain being close would cause and stayed distant... Huffing to himself and shaking those stray thoughts from his head Arro created an illusion of his father, and let the doorlock run a scan cycle.

A harsh tone and flash of red light punctuated the door seeing through his trick, he wasn't surprised at this, merely disappointed. Hanging his head he let the unsatisfactory illusionary human fade, and got back to his feet. He had to continue his search but he silently promised himself he'd be back to try again before setting off to find more rooms. It didn't take him long to find the other parents' rooms, Atom "gunfrie" Garan and Garragan's father's room wasn't hard to miss, especially considering it's triple reinforced nature. They had come from a line of Giant warriors, he had thought it was a family trait or something, they were literally all giant and warriors of some kind. Atom was the rear admiral of some kind of space armada at one time, Garragan was dubbed "the perfect soldier" on earth, and Garan was a known scourge of the space lanes in three dimensions thanks to his exploits as a dervish.

Thinking about the oversized soldier he remembered that he was more involved in their adventures than dad was, even lead an excursion to the frozen wastes of Jotunheim once to get his sons prepared for the fighting that lay ahead of them... Though, to be fair, that was more of a field trip to him and his sons, he remembered they had even brought back snowcones from their trip! They were too cold to eat and smelled strangely of blood but they had stopped to get them anyway...

He paused at that particular memory... it had never actually stuck him as odd until now... the temperature there stayed at an inhospitable eighty kelvin, why would anyone in their right mind scoop up snow from there? Better question was what did they flavor them with? most were blue, a couple red, and he vaguely remembered a yellow one being in the mix that nobody touched... Shaking the possibilities out of his head he mumbled "I don't think I wanna know." Standing in front of the door as he was though he figured he could give opening it a shot. An unusual chill ran down his spine, almost like he was being watched as he conjured an illusionary shell of the old soldier. A sensation that only got worse as the sensors ran their scan. He couldn't shake it, even though he knew exactly where the empress wasn't and that there were no other living things on this ship he still felt like something was watching him.


He felt slightly better as the scanner signaled his failure with a red flash and a harsh tone, at least his father wasn't alone amongst the parents he forgot. Even in light of that relief though, his unease remained, and worsened as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. In the back of his mind he knew something was stalking him, something he couldn't sense, instinct was taking over and his first five senses kicked into overdrive. A dull vibration carried through the air, even as a slight breeze fluttered to either direction of the hallway carrying with it the scent of ozone and rocket fuel.

Arro was about to write it off as the ductwork carrying a breeze from the hangar bay until he looked around to find the vent carrying it and caught a fast moving grey blur out of the corner of his vision. He knew he was not going to like what he found even as he spun to see what it was. It hovered faster than most creatures can blink, but it's dull grey humanoid form suspended in the air by glowing plasma turbines let him knew he was looking at one of the Empress's many combat androids even before it hovered to a stop some ten feet away.

An unconscious shiver ran up his spine as he looked over the robot, he hated robots, anything without enough sentience to be considered "Thinking" lacked a soul, or any other signature he could detect. The CCW had sent thousands of mindless drones to capture him, successfully on several occasions, because of this fact. Thinking about it, he did his best to soften the glare he shot the mindless drone as it hovered there silently, all it had done is startle him, no reason to try and burn it to a cinder. Arro waited for it to explain itself, or at least apologize for startling him, for a moment before speaking himself "Can I help you?"

"Voice print Recognized. Arro Heroshi, you have attempted unauthorized access to numerous secure areas within a two-hour time period. How do you plead?" The android's harsh mechanical voice boomed off the barren walls even as it's glowing red eyes trained on Arro.

He didn't know what to say, this is the first time any of these has caught him attempting to pick locks, let alone actually confronted him about something. His first instinct was to answer the thing's question sarcastically but he didn't know how it would respond to him saying he usually pleaded on his hands and knees when he had to. He didn't remember them being programmed with a sense of humor, they were coded for logic, pure and simple. If he was in trouble he could probably tie it up in it's own coding cycles, if he could keep it talking. "That doesn't answer my question. I asked how I could help, not what you think I've done. Are you ok? Did your chips get flipped in the crash?

It wasn't designed to show signs of emotional inflection, it's neutral grey face reflected this as Arro launched into his barrage of questions. He had hoped that it was enough to force a self-diagnostic but the steely tone of the robot cut that hope short. "I KNOW what you have been doing, all of my systems are fully operational, and you can help by answering my question. How do you plead?"

This was not going well Arro noted mentally, this drone is behaving unusually, even for a drone. He could hear the high-pitched whine of its capacitor banks charging up, if he couldn't find a way to defuse or confuse this hovering junk-pile he was going to have to fight it or at the very least outrun it, neither of which would be easy on a normal day. He was foundering for ideas, and tried to piece together something to reset this droid "I plea... momentary confusion? I have to say your behavior is odd, who reprogrammed you? and why?"

Arro felt the robot's gaze bore into him even before it spoke "I was reprogrammed on 2:17:3017 by Captain Terek, who suspected espionage was taking place onboard." The booming synthetic drone reverberated up and down the halls but Arro could hear the dull click-clack as the receivers to its forearm guns cycled fresh rounds. "He granted authorization to terminate any Saboteurs found, no exceptions, no escape clauses." Arro couldn't help but think Terek may have gotten a little paranoid If he programmed all the robots with this but the thought got cut short as he saw the robot raise its hands, gun ports opening in its palms exposing the one-inch bore autocannons in each. "I can promise a quick death if you stand still."

Adrenaline flooded Arro's veins at the sight of anti-tank weaponry being leveled at him, time seemed to slow to a crawl as he had a millisecond to act before the strikers fell. The indecision that had always plagued him the countless irrelevant thoughts, all too many snide comments, painful memories, were gone in an instant as if they had melted away. He felt his tails lash behind him as this newfound clarity fell over his mind, a single thought flashed across his mind as his vision narrowed. He's run long enough. It's time to fight!

The sharp crack of the striker falling preceded the booming of the one bore autocannon's firing, these sounds were mere nanoseconds apart but Arro heard them distinctly almost like the ticking of a clock. Instinctively one of his tails lashed in front of him, colliding with the heavy projectile midair and swatting it into the door beside him. It was strange, it felt like he had all the time in the world, he heard the bot's other arm cannon go off as the other one cycled ejected it's spent casing. Instinct again took control of his tails and one bounced the next projectile off the bulkhead, sending it ricocheting down the corridor.

A high-pitched keening noise came from the first shell as it's booster rockets lit off, attempting to drill it deeper into the door. Arro almost wanted to laugh at the sight, those rounds and the guns that fired them were designed by humans, the fact that they could penetrate tank armor but not a door in Terek's ship either showed the superiority of alien technology, or the paranoia that went into reinforcing those doors. But as the next cartridge lit off he knew he didn't have time NOW to appreciate the irony.

Ducking under the explosive shell he was about to deflect the next when he saw the drone's eyes light up a searing red. Searing light sliced through his right ear and a crashing boom rang out from a foot in front of his face. Everything felt muted even as the blast picked him up and threw him down the corridor and his mind reeled to try and process what happened. His face and head felt hot, and the muted booming of the autocannons were still going off.

As one of the many shells passes by him he saw its booster rocket light off speeding it off at blinding speed, and his mind clicked at what had happened. It changed tactics to get more out of its weaponry. Thinking quickly, he spun to get his legs under him even as another shell got detonated prematurely by a laser beside him throwing him into the bulkhead. He had to change the course of this fight or this machine was going to kill him.

A blur of grey is all he could see as the warbot pulsed its thrusters to get into a better firing position and opened up with another barrage of its autocannons. Burning rage filled his breast and at the coldness of the machine's actions, Giving him an idea. Seeing the explosive rounds fast approaching he huffed a ball of foxfire ahead of him and took a deep breath. Nearly a dozen bright red explosions pulsed the golden flames, the explosives detonating from the extreme heat as Arro let loose a searing stream of fire through the burning conflagration before the burning chunks of bursting shell could escape directing it back towards where the bot had been.

For an instant the corridor was engulphed in golden flame, the searing heat flooding it and flowing out into the extradimensional void through the cracks, before Arro relented not wanting to waste any more energy than he had to. He felt A warm trickle run down the side of his head and another down his face as he watched as golden flames lick across the floor and ceiling. Getting his paws back under him, he watched the flames intently for movement, hoping that his flames would do the trick he watched as they tried to consume the corridor entirely. He could see a distortion in the flames, but not clearly. A cold shiver ran up his spine as he felt the undeniable presence of the Empress's gaze on him a moment later.

Again, alien emotions flooded his mind, somewhere between confusion, disappointment, anger, curiosity, and ... mirth? He barely had time to process those feelings before the sonic fire suppression systems engaged, stirring the golden flames into a sputtering frenzy and nullifying them within seconds. His heart sank when he caught sight of the bot, It was grounded it's thrusters clearly shut down from a critical overheat but even as it stood there glowing bright cherry red he saw is moving internally. He could hear its servos strain and errant sparks leap along the inside of its chassis, smell it's burning circuitry. It was trying to find him, And as it turned its head it's photoreceptors cooled enough for it to get a lock on him. He knew this all too well as the burning glow behind its eyes overwhelmed the incandescence of its breastplate.

His instincts told him to interpose a tail, block the beam, but His brain told him he had to get closer to do any damage. Leaping forward he caught the searing beam of the bot's lasers to the back. His legs went numb as he sprinted towards the bot, still he bounded at it. Mere nanoseconds before it's lasers could recharge he lept for its throat and dug his teeth into the superheated metal. Its hands grabbed at him, trying to pull him off as his own claws found purchase in the cracks between its neck and torso armor. Servos screamed and metal squealed as a he relaxed the magic that kept him small and pushed the limits of the bot's construction. Its neck gave way first, the hot metal was simply too soft and too thin to withstand the strain, followed shortly by its legs.

Leaning forward Arro Rode the unpowered Bot's body to the ground, deliberately quadrupling his size as he did, crushing the softened armor hull beneath his weight. Standing there amongst the wreckage of the formerly threatening war bot he dropped its head into the growing pool of mercury which composed much of its hydraulic system. The heat of the moment gone, the calm of the fight dissipated, and his various injuries caught up with him. Blood trickled into his right eye, glazing it over every time he blinked and stinging as it did. His back hurt, and he could barely feel his hind legs. Worst of all and his mind flooded with the indignation the emotion that was left behind in the skirmish. Looking down at the Robot's head, its eyes still moving under auxiliary power trying to assess the situation, he growled at it and placed a single paw on it.

Bearing down on the android's head he spoke to it, in his mind giving it its last lesson "Remember tinman. No escape clauses." Letting a full quarter of his weight come down on the android's skull he felt the outer shell buckle and the internal components pop and crunch inside. The soft sting of electrical discharge ran up his leg but he didn't care, the reality of the situation was sinking in. He had just killed... well, dismantled... this drone, one of thousands, built specifically to be exactly one quarter as fast and strong as Zorin, a man who could jump from the earth to alpha-centauri and back in the time it took for someone to order a pizza, and hurl any of the starships in the bay through a planet just to catch it on the other side. Armed with the second... no... third most effective weapons in both the energy and solid state class. Some sense of pride came over him, even though it's not the most spectacular achievement he managed to do it.

Arro remembered he was not alone as the empress's gaze intensified, she was observing him now and he could feel the wake of it washing over him. Complex equations flooded his mind, along with flickers of places, people, entire events he had never seen before, the empress was trying to convey something. He felt nauseous, dizzy, as reality felt like it was buckling all around him and time Practically ground to a halt. None of the images made sense to him, sights and sounds from places far removed from one another and himself. He shrank away from her gaze, his unconscious control over his magic causing him to physically shrink as well.

Just as quickly as the Bombardment began it ended, leaving Him curled up there amongst the android's broken parts. His body ached, his head hurt, and his ego was more than a little bruised from the ship's yelling at him, but a dull beeping sound caught his ear. It sounded just like the beeps from the ship's central console from earlier, but this time it was coming from the ship's entertainment section... the immersion centers... "Guess that means you want to talk face to face..."

He shakily got back to his feet, this is the second time the empress has deliberately tried communicating directly with him. And the second time she's almost washed his psyche straight from his skull in the process... He knew the first time was out of desperation, wanting to know about her crew... least the ones she didn't already know about... This time felt different... Almost... Hopeful...

A louder Beep than the others sounded out, echoing through the corridors and drawing Arro's attention. He set off as fast as his partially numb legs could carry him, mumbling to himself "Right... Probably shouldn't keep you waiting."

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