[b]Redana![/b]

You have a Duty, daughter of Nero. Your Duty begineth thus: all who look upon you must know the contents of your heart. When the Empress is sad then the palace is to be remade in black and courtiers are expected to weep and gnash their teeth. When the Empress is joyful then miles of steel and glass are rearranged to bring the light of suns to fill every room and music plays day and night. You have received instruction on how to communicate your emotions to those around you in as spectacular and flashy form as possible. It is positively an act of teenage rebellion to [i]only[/i] change your hair and get a tattoo.

You do have another Duty too, but this is by standard accounting somewhat more distant than the overwhelming importance of imposing your aesthetic upon the galaxy: you need to figure out what the hell is up with Alexa. She must be seriously broken to defy an Imperial order. Perhaps the machine-madness of Baradissar got to her? Whatever it is, you must guide her, redeem her, and set her on the path to penance, just as Nero set Molech on the path to redemption when she left him imprisoned in his former palace. 

(and besides the thought that if you can fix Alexa then maybe you can fix Bella)

[b]Alexa![/b]

You have done well. You have kept them safe. That justifies everything: if they are safe then it was worth it. A problem arises from this logic: they must now [b]always[/b] be safe. This end justifies your actions, so the importance of the end has come to eclipse all your thinking.

(you have still not read the letter. It has not felt like the right moment)

Right now, safety means dealing with an infestation of battlecrabs in the lower depths. Though Redana and Iskarot previously drained the ship of water with their insane cut-the-ship-in-half technique a particularly durable strain of crustacean has somehow survived and is moving around militantly and with eerie co-ordination. This is a straightforwards a peril as you are likely to encounter in the depths of space: armed, armoured, fearless opponents. Perfect - if the Princess hadn't decided to come with you.

[b]Vasilia and Dolce![/b]

 "Captain, we have obtained breathing room," buzzed Iskarot, somehow folding his three meter bulk into a standard-issue chair. "We have a semifunctional navigation system and so therefore have a number of choices. However, I must emphasize that this ship remains in [i]critical[/i] condition and must be fundamentally overhauled in order to even dream of a journey as perilous as you have proposed."

He lays out a hand-drawn map in front of you. It's almost endearingly blocky and simply drawn, as are his pages of supplementary material. 

"Our first priority is to take inventory of the ship," said the Hermetician. "We still have entire decks that have been unexplored and accordingly have no idea what assets, resources and weaponry this ship possesses. Fortunately the construct volunteered for this duty already. Secondly, the major problem is a shortage of components - we need a massive intake of raw material in order to perform basic maintenance and start restoring systems damaged by water and age. A major spaceport would be an ideal location to obtain this, should we have sufficient wealth to barter. But herein lies the dilemma,"

He produces two maps, detailing two planets. "Jorel Kell Station is nearby here, a spaceport of exceptional resources - but we lack the funds to truly take advantage of what it possesses, unless you have some buried stash of pirate treasure I don't know about. Alternately, the [i]Yakanov[/i] is a Hermetic Exploration Ship conducting a survey of this isolated star system. I know the magi responsible for this expedition and believe that we can - negotiate lucrative employment."

He glitched there a bit, and you're pretty sure from your knowledge of Hermetics he actually means 'steal from my hated academic rival'. You've been around the stars long enough to know how dangerous and how profitable those missions are.

"But in either case," he muses, "what we really need is a [i]crew[/i]."

[b]Bella![/b]

It's too bright. Why is it so bright on this ship? It's the sun after a night of drinking, it's the far-too chipper palace greeter after a night of crying, if you thought you could count on the Kaeri for one fucking thing it would be to keep the lights off.

Evidently they couldn't keep the ship from being shot either. You feel the impacts running through the spine of the Anemoi like your own bones. You're on the bridge and it's disorganized chaos, deer-in-headlights looks from pilots used to being invisible predators, and without the fierceness of their captain to bring it to order. Someone is rambling a status report at you in the tone of voice that says that this is their very first real space battle - but you really don't need it. You can [i]see[/i] what the problem is more clearly than they can.

The Anemoi has decelerated to avoid a void wreck which was concealing a pirate craft. It emerged from behind the wreckage and managed to flank the Anemoi, huge optic lenses designed for tracking evasive merchants and smugglers piercing Imperial concealment just as easily. It's twice the size of the Anemoi, a full cruiser, and is opening up with a barrage of solid projectiles to blind and terrify your ship as they move in position to board. They're steady and smooth, closing in on you with the rehearsed precision of a ship that has done this exact ambush dozens of times before.