TheAmishPirate

Breathless Dead

Zeus is unignorable by nature. She’d just finished telling a story louder than she’d needed to, and covered most of her audience’s reaction with her own booming laugh. Like she’d not told it a hundred times over. Vasilia hid her smile in a sip of her beverage, which was why you couldn’t find it on her face. Pah. No drink bitterer than a forced one. “Anyone can see what an honor it is to host such a host, Thunderer.” And now she was sitting next to her. When did that happen?! She specifically remembered at least a two-seat buffer not five minutes ago… “Of all the Captains of all the ships in all the universe, whyever should you dote on me so? After all, there’s no end of brave souls with the necessary...ambition to seek glory.” Why not bother one of them for a change? Jas’o certainly seemed your type.

**********************************

Dolce had been idly tracing patterns in the ash with his foot. Little swirls and whorls turned into swirling nebulae, and soon he had a few ships in to see the sights. He didn’t remember adding the face-down cards on top of them, but they were there to greet him when he turned away for a moment to address a call for refills. But, well, they were here, so he might as well pick one, no?

Thus began the Lord Hades' subtle exit from the table, and entry into a spirited game of cards with the chef. They had little to play with, only a few crumbs leftover from the cooking, but it didn’t seem to matter; the Lord of the Dead played as if they were priceless diamonds, and Dolce was not about to disappoint him with a poor showing.

“I was wondering,” Dolce asked, as Hades silently shuffled the cards for another round. “With all that’s still before us, and all that might be, are you...betting on our voyage? That we would succeed or fail?”

Fellowship: The Heart

Wrong! Completely wrong! To follow his eyes is to wind up on the ceiling, how he rolls them at your idiocy.

“No, obviously not. The lever, Fool! The lever that’s only to be pulled in case of emergency. The lever that occupies two-fifths of the station’s central control panel, and whose warning label takes a third. The lever that’s so easy to accidentally nudge, that of course it’s not been accidentally nudged.” This was Wormwood Station, after all. The failsafes couldn’t rely on straightforward countermeasures. “But it will be pulled. It must be pulled. Somebody in this station is going to pull that lever, Fool, and do you know why?”

Breathless Dead

When Dolce had first doled out the field rations for this trip, all of the hoplites had refused to take any, which he hadn’t ever realized was a possible outcome of that exchange. Usually, most people would rather not go hungry, and yet they were adamant in their refusal. Somewhere in the midst of insistence and counter-insistence, Galnius asked why it was so important to stop for a meal when they were due to launch any moment. What he had called rations, they’d taken for an entire meal.

Can you imagine? What must the Imperial chefs be doing over there in the Armada? How badly could they be mangling their food that it didn’t even look like food anymore? If this was their first time with decent food in the field, oh, they would be in for a treat.

You see, food? Food comes from ingredients. To make bread, you need flour. To make a salad, you need vegetables. But, what if you want croutons in your salad? Why, then you’d need bread, wouldn’t you? Bread, which was food, is now an ingredient again, and you’ve made something altogether new! With a little time, a hot surface scraped clean, some oils and herbs, why couldn’t field rations be the same way? Taking a little from everyone’s pack - and a double portion from their own, for Liu Ban had nothing to give - Dolce served up a steady supply of toasted sandwiches and freshly-sauteed fixings, enough for mortal and god alike. In no time at all, everyone had food, company, and good cheer in plentiful supply.

Incredible, wasn’t it? Crashed on a forgotten planet, hunted, without knowing how they were to carry on, a little good food made everything a little better, didn’t it? Not. Well, not perfect, but still better, yes?

...it could still be better, though. Galnius hadn’t let plate or cup so much as touch the ground they shared with Liu Ban, and some of the other hoplites were starting to follow suit. Vasilia was laughing at everyone’s jokes, so long as everyone never included Zeus. Lord Hades hadn’t laughed at all, and to tell the truth, Dolce hadn’t seen him eat even once, even as sandwiches disappeared from before him. But no matter how things were, they’d be better with full bellies. That much, he was sure of.

Now then; was anyone ready for seconds? Thirds? Refills on drinks? He had a few powders on hand that could make even a canteen of water all the more delicious and refreshing. He did not sit with the rest, nor at all really. His post was at the makeshift stove, and he would man it faithfully. Too much to do to sit, too much to do.

Fellowship: The Heart

Hrmph! Is this the...person they’ve sent to greet him? Wandering around Wormwood on the edge of indecency? You’d think he would have learned to tolerate the sting of disappointment, but life had to go and keep inventing bigger fools. Knows their title, and you might suppose that’s a lick of respect. At least that’s something.

“You’ll have to speak up, Fool. It’s difficult to hear you above all the mindless panic.” And yet, his sniff of disdain was perfectly audible. “It’s difficult to make out, but, hold on - it’s coming through, yes, yes, I’m getting something.” Cup a hand to his ear, listen, listen closely! “They’re saying...yes, they’re saying King Dragon’s loose in Wormwood Station? My Wormwood Station? He’s broken through every defense and nothing can stop him? And he’s going to pull it down into his hoard? Oh no, how horrible, how unfortunate.” The horror! The shock! See how he covers his mouth with both hands? That’s how you know he’s shocked. “How could another aspect of the Heart possibly get through the infinite defenses against intentional causality, why, imagine the odds! And that he’d have enough power left to cause this much trouble, oh, of all the rotten luck. I’m afraid we’re all doomed. What a miserable, terrible, cursed end for my prison designed to contain bad luck.”

“Clods. Can I not retire in peace?! Isn’t there a single person capable of following basic instructions? I’d settle for half a brain, but that’d be asking for rudimentary division, and I have the displeasure of knowing who I'm dealing with.” He stomped irritably, venting his spleen to the uncaring ceiling, before whirling on the Fool, impatient fire burning in his eyes.

“Well?! Has anyone pulled the lever yet?”

Breathless Dead

Vasilia was many things. Few of them were casual.

“Liu Ban may accomplish much, with effort.” She placed a hand upon his shoulder, taking great care not to encroach on the lice’s territory. “But only if he is given the chance to start right. New lives cannot be built on messy foundations. That which is ruin,” she exhaled in a hiss. “Is ruin for a reason. Whatever it once was, it is not. Whatever it once did, it does not. By all accounts?” She curled the fingers of her free hand, pondering the shape of her claws. “Best to cut it out.”

And then she patted him congenially, gracing him with a smile. “Of course, a long goodbye can just as well turn to blessing than curse. See to it that it stays the former. Dolce, will this spot do?”

Dolce licked a finger, and quickly tested it against the heated metal, nodding approvingly at the sound. “Ideal temperature for lunch.”

“Brilliant. Everyone, see to our Chef Mate for rations. Rest, tend to your wounds, and keep your spears close. We march for our companions within the hour.”

Breathless Dead

“Services far more practical than cautionary tales. Barradissar was your capital, and it remains your home. Considering those who know much of this planet, and those who will not assault us on sight, you’ve come to occupy a high ranking on these fast-diminishing lists. Our shuttle crashed on our descent, scattering two of our companions in the process. Both must be remedied before we can continue. And as our journey is long and unpopular, any capabilities we can take with us to discourage further rebukes would be invaluable.”

She did not trust him with this information. Trust was a strong word. It was closer to say that she believed he either would not or could not immediately harm them with this information, and urgency gave frankness an irresistible appeal.

Breathless Dead

“You do the telling an injustice, I fear. One story you may have, but how many more hide within it? Every choice we make and every choice we let pass, do these not make stories in their own right?” She glanced to Dolce, meeting his eyes, and delighted to see the same caution she felt in her bones. He’d noticed the desperation too. And that he’d wasted no time in recounting his own tale. “I do not laugh, and you must pardon my restraint, for these tales untold catch hold of my thoughts. The Defeated Emperor Who Retained a Sword. The Fallen Sage Who Realized Defeat. The Loss of All, The Choice to Laugh.”

[Rolling to Speak Softly: 4 + 2 + 0 = 6 I was going to ask What does he want, and how could we help him get to it?]

Had she truly seen the company she walked with and the halls where they trod, she would not have committed such indiscretions. But her eyes were distant, and her sight was filled with a time long past and ever-present. “There are many ways such tales can go, Liu Ban. But here is where they have brought you, and here is how they have left you.” Her voice softened with unmistakable familiarity. “Will you do us the honor of sharing them?”

Breathless Dead

The wave of Molech’s presence washed over them, a mighty command of awe from even this shadow of an Emperor. These caves, big enough to house a mind to weight the universe, could not hope to contain the whole of his spirit. Vasilia took a step back, and only a step. Her shoulders straightened, turned, as her weight settled on her back foot. Poised, posed, coiled like a spring, and yet ready to indulge in every step. Her tail flicked. Her eyes flashed, defiant and thrilled. Oh, it had been some time, hadn’t it? Long enough that she might think the universe full of nothing but the likes of Jas'o; dullards and braggarts all. Who was it, who had last stepped into the ring against an equal? What other face, what younger soul? If only the circumstances weren’t so poor...

In the silence following his decree, Vasilia put a hand to her chest, and gasped loudly. “I say! The darkness has not dulled your eyes, Liu Ban. The subtle machinations of the Thundercrasher, the Heaven-splitter, cannot hide from you!”

Beside her, Galnius bit back an oath, eyes darting to the skies as if to catch the thunderheads gathering. She paid him no mind. If one wished to sift her words with Zeus’ many titles - few of which were what one might call compatible with subtlety - and fret over how near a deadly line she danced, then let them sift away. It was technically a compliment, she wouldn’t say otherwise, and that’s all that mattered, really.

“Of course, I cannot lay claim to such titles,” there went Galnius again, making undignified noises. “Today, your gracious guest is Captain Vasilia, of the Starsong Privateers.” She doffed her hat in an elegant bow. “Here is the Princess Epistia, fearless in battle and peerless of sythe. And let us not forget Galnius and his hoplites, whose loyalty is beyond compare.” Let him sift that one, if he liked. “I surely speak for us all when I thank you for your honorable hospitality. But would such a visit be complete with a humble meal and a swift departure? No more complete than our company without a suitable welcome-gift. What say you, Dolce?”

Dolce stepped out from behind her, where he had surely been standing the entire time. “I think I would rather not eat lice, ma’am.”

“Nor would our host, my dear. Come! May we bestow upon you a first blessing, Liu Ban! For from these barren caves, we shall produce a meal worthy of song! Do us the honor of sharing in the first feast upon Baraddissar in centuries! Let our hearts and spirits be refreshed in this most miraculous company!”

“...also, if you could do us the favor of providing a more private venue for such refreshment, we would be most obliged. A wing of Kaeri hound us, and I daresay they may not find as much hospitality in these halls.” A jest, a fine tactical assessment, and an honorable route of deescalation for the good Liu Ban. Laugh, agree, and carry on without losing face. They had each taken the other’s measure, and what good would come of further boasting here?

Breathless Dead

The glaive froze half-formed at the name of the gods, thrumming with potential yet unrealized. The invocations of hospitality bade it retreat and retract once more. Expend not your might, tool of consequence. Sleep lightly on your master’s belt. Her hand remains near to call.

Vasilia only uncoiled to her full height. The grim focus of battle forgot itself in a disarming smile, as her other hand made the gestures of relevant awe towards the home of a host. “Then. In the name of Zeus and Athena, we gratefully accept your welcome to Baradissar. Receive in joy, remain in warmth, and give a little of the plenty of your home.” His first gift to them; the rites of host to guest. They were etched on the hearts of greatest and least alike. When you visited another in a dream, even there they were the first words on your lips. Were it not for that, there would be no words here. She had no practiced reply to a threat beyond threats. But she had her solid ground, and she could not begin to guess why he’d given it to her.

“May I say, sir,” she continued inoffensively. “That this has been the most gracious welcome we’ve received on our journey to date?” Easy. Light. A dash of humor. A testing of the waters. What more will you give her, fallen Emperor? What will you volunteer freely, and what will you make her fight you for?

Beside her, there was an inconspicuous lack of sheep, and it suited her to keep it that way for a few moments longer.

Breathless Dead

Beside him, Vasilia stifled a gasp behind her hand.

Dolce had seen starships and planets and the infinite gulf of the void, and if you’d handed him a tape measure right this moment, he’d set out to prove this was bigger than them all. For one, nobody had put a planet inside anything before, and that seemed to make it all the grander. But this wasn’t some inert ruin either. It was moving. It was thinking. It was alive, in most of the senses that mattered. And not a one of them could see to either end of it. “That.” He blinked, and rubbed at his eyes. “That is a little too big for us.”

“The mind of an emperor. And it still lives…” Vasilia murmured intently. “Interface, interface, does anyone have eyes on the interface? Oh, just think of the intelligence in this behemoth-!” She dashed on ahead, and Dolce had to tear his eyes away and follow.

“...it is too big, right? There’s not a room for this onboard we haven’t found yet? Lord Hades?”