(On the Hunt) Chapter 34

Pride: On the Hunt

Chapter 34

After the Fact

The planet the Vex-Cha had designated 9-XRL was uninhabited, but it was a far cry from lifeless. It was a watery world, with most of the land consisting of swamps, and in several of those swamps life had taken hold. Namely mushrooms. Or at least something that looked a lot like mushrooms, other than being a soft blue-violet and standing taller than the average Earth tree.

It had taken a good bit of circling to find a place they could set down—or perhaps more to the point, a place to set down that they would be able to lift back off from later. But finally they'd found a rocky stretch bearing half-covered scorch marks. Some previous scavenger had apparently blasted themselves a landing zone.

At least they knew they were in the right place.

Most of the team had gone out to investigate, with Cam and Hunk left to mind the ship. Daniel had been sure he would have to stay on the ship as well; being off restriction didn't mean he was wholly forgiven for the arson incident. But it had turned out to mean the exact opposite…

"Brennan, stay in sight."

…Namely, the commander was keeping an unnecessarily close eye on him. "I'll do my best," Daniel grumbled, rolling his eyes as they entered a thick stand of mushrooms. I hate this. The ship had better be worth it.

"This is fucking awesome," Lance declared as they climbed over a fallen mushroom trunk, reaching a pool of shallow water filled with glittery blue spores.

"It's beautiful," Sven agreed, looking at the feathery undersides of the caps high above. Hopefully they wouldn't release any more spores right now; Jace would have a fit, and it would really detract from the ambiance.

Given that they weren't being caught in a rain of mushroom dust, their medic was having more benign thoughts on the place. "I think I played an old video game about this once." Whether he considered that a good or bad thing wasn't quite clear.

Vince was very clear, on the other hand. "I hate mushrooms." It wasn't the giant alien mushrooms' fault they looked so similar to gross Earth food, really… but he was holding them accountable for it nonetheless.

"Sven, how much further in should it be?" Keith asked as they skirted around the edges of the pool.

"Not too much further." Getting precise orbital coordinates here wasn't really a thing, and they certainly didn't have a good map. The Bolt had detected a large concentration of metal, though, and it seemed like a pretty good bet that they would be able to tell once they saw it.

Sure enough, just a couple of clearings later, they stepped around a particularly large stalk and found themselves face to face with the site.

"Whoa."

"Faex."

"Damn…"

"Definitely did not see that in an old video game."

Part of the crash site was simply a hill, covered in small mushrooms and moss. But a massive chunk of gleaming silver-white metal emerged from beneath the soil to rest on the surface; it looked like the ship had actually won its battle with the ground when it impacted. What might once have been an engine block was now a spidery framework of half-scavenged girders, but the hull still seemed largely intact.

"Well… looks like we found it." Keith wasn't quite certain what else to say, and looked back at his team. "Shall we?"

"Let's."

"Please."

Finding an entrance wasn't too difficult. Centuries of scavengers had worn a path to the hatch into the surrounding soil, the hard-packed earth resisting anything more than some scrubby moss taking hold. As they got closer it became evident just how small the hatch was; they were looking at something easily the size of a stellar cruiser.

"Yo," Daniel muttered as they stepped into its shadow. "This thing's huge."

Lance looked up and down the hull and shook his head. "Is it just me or does it seem… newer than you might expect?"

"It could've crashed here yesterday," Pidge agreed softly. "Except for the mushrooms."

Moving a little ahead of the group, Flynn ran his fingers along the hull. He half expected to feel something magical, and wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when it was just metal. "No oxidation."

Lance eyed him. "What?"

"Rust."

Damn it. He'd heard it fine the first time.

They each climbed through the opening with Jace watching carefully; nobody had any apparent reaction to the hull. A small mercy, in Keith's mind. "Alright. Let's split into pairs and look around. Be careful as you're investigating, we don't know how stable this ship is…" It seemed pretty stable, but believing that too readily would be how they got into trouble.

"The buddy system, really?" Lance asked.

"Better safe than sorry."

Jace snorted and slung an arm over Sven's shoulder. "I've got a buddy! What's wrong, caralho, don't you?" The navigator rolled his eyes fondly.

Oh, well if he wanted to be like that… Lance eyed Flynn up and down and grinned. "Sure do."

Keith shook his head. "Brennan, you're with me."

"Haven't I been punished enough?" Daniel's question got him a glare. No, then.

"Kid, just go with it and show you're trustworthy."

Now it was Daniel doing the glaring, just for a moment, feeling wholly betrayed that Lance was actually not going to back him up on this. Stupid expectations. And worse, he found himself agreeing. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he grumbled, moving up next to Keith and sulking. This was gonna suck.

Flynn looked over at Vince and Pidge, who had exchanged shrugs and stepped a little closer to each other. At least by now they were finally used to getting along. He grinned at Lance, then turned to Keith and nodded.

"Alright." Their commander crossed his arms. "I think finding the bridge and engineering areas might be most fruitful, assuming they're even recognizable anymore. Keep your eyes open… but remember we can't expect too much." It wasn't much of a pep talk, but they had to keep their expectations realistic, too. This was a slim thread. "Move out."

*****

Keith and Daniel walked down a dark corridor. The others had broken off down other halls as they continued down what seemed like the main access corridor, and it was soon eerily quiet. Keith flicked on a flashlight as they entered the underground portion of the ship, any last vestiges of daylight fading away.

"This is so much fun." Daniel sighed, still grumpy that he was being babysat by Keith fucking Kogane. If he had to have a sitter, why couldn't it have been someone else? Anyone else.

"Makes me think of haunted houses."

"Well, if you get possessed, I promise to shoot you before you try and kill us all," Daniel offered with a snort. He knew he was acting like a little kid, but he was also being babysat like a little kid. So really he was just taking Lance's words to heart and meeting the set expectations, and that seemed like the mature thing to do.

Keith blinked, looking at his young companion. That had seemed a little… extreme. "No trying to actually save your commander?"

Daniel growled softly. Doesn't he know what a joke is? Sure, his tone might not have been the most jovial, but his words were obviously not meant to be taken seriously. This guy… He put on a fake smile. "Good of the team and all that." He made sure to turn away to roll his eyes.

"…Right." They turned down another hallway, shining light into an empty room as they passed. "Well, it seems they were about average in height, judging by the rooms." He waited a moment but didn't hear a response, then turned and looked behind him. "Daniel?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's kinda creepy. The ghost ship itself, not the height thing. Super interesting observation." He made an attempt at sounding respectful, but it didn't really work. At least he'd tried? Daniel felt like that counted for something.

Keith wasn't so sure. Patience is a virtue… "What do you find creepy about it? Other than it being dark and empty?"

"The dark and empty parts! I mean, come on, think about it. This ship had a crew at one point, now they're all dead. This ship is all that's left. That's kinda creepy." Frown. "And sad, but mostly creepy."

He's not wrong. Keith shined the light down the hall, turning in that direction. "Come on. We should keep looking around."

Daniel followed. "So, what exactly are we hoping to find in here, anyways?" He might not have paid as much attention in the mission briefing as he should have. Wait, had there even been a briefing? Oh fuck, did I miss a briefing? He internally panicked for a second—no, he'd still be in the middle of a lecture if he had. Whatever, it didn't matter anyways.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. Would be nice if there was a computer log or something, but from the way this ship looks, we probably won't be that lucky."

"This ship has been abandoned for a long time. I doubt there's any computer log," Daniel muttered. He felt awkward, very awkward, talking to Keith. He hated it. The conversation didn't seem to flow like it did with the others. Maybe it's all in my head?

The commander nodded. "True. Though, just seeing the layout of this ship is beneficial. If we find another one, we might be able to recognize it. And the engineers can make educated guesses at what the Alteans were capable of."

"Yeah, those things are also true."

"We may not find much, but we can still come away with something."

"Yep." Nope. It was not in his head.

Silence dropped on the two of them, nearly smothering in the darkness of the abandoned halls. It wore on Daniel, especially, but he didn't know what to say to the commander. Though in a way he was happy for the silence. He could almost pretend he was there by himself… that was, until Keith suddenly broke the silence.

"I'm glad you've found a mentor of sorts with Lance."

Wait…what? Daniel floundered for a moment, snapping his head up. "I've found a what in who?"

"A mentor. In Lance." He raised an eyebrow. "And I know you're smarter than you let on; you could have found a different way to get rid of those birds of Cam's."

Daniel stopped cold, staring at Keith's back. Horror crawled up his back as he realized what this conversation was turning into. But he didn't have long to focus on that, because he was still stuck on the mentor bit. "What the hell do you mean by 'mentor'?"

Keith chuckled. "A mentor is someone you can look up to and learn from." He stopped and looked back at him, grinning. "I'm proud of you for that. Even if I question your sanity in your choice of mentor… you take what you can get on an Explorer Team." He shook his head. "Just do one thing for me. Don't try to set my ship and the gym on fire again, okay?"

Oh no. No, no, no-no… "Stop it, man! You're wiggin' me out!" This was not something he needed right now. Or ever. Keith's other eyebrow had risen at Daniel's hysterical tone, but he stayed quiet and waited as the kid found his argument. "Okay, listen here. Lance is not a… mentor person, okay? I don't need a mentor person. And you being proud of me means I'm doing something so very, very wrong." He pressed his hands to his temples, starting to feel a bit lightheaded from breathing so fast. "Oh, God. It means I'm Cam. Oh, God…"

Keith blinked. This had gone well beyond where he'd expected. "What did you join the Academy for, then?"

"To get the hell out of Utah! And to fly fast ships! Not to turn into… oh, God!" He might have been a tad hysterical but he did not give a fuck. This was something that deserved hysteria. He wasn't sure what was worse—the panic caused by this mentor bullshit, or the misery swallowing him whole because there was a high probability that despite all his efforts, he had indeed been turned into a more talented version of Cam.

"…What's so bad about Utah?" It wasn't the most relevant question but it was all Keith could seem to produce.

"Utah is unbelievably boring. And desert-y. Deserts suck. Like mentors!"

"Having someone to look up to isn't a bad thing, Daniel."

"Yes it is! Mentors equal authority, and authority fucks you over, man. Oh, God!" Daniel hung his head. Why was he trying to explain how inconvenient authority was to his main authority?

Keith blinked. "Authority…?" He thought of Sky Marshal Wade for a moment, then shook his head. "That isn't what your superiors are supposed to try and do, Daniel. They're supposed to train and teach you to help you become the best version of yourself."

"Yeah, for people like you and Cam who fit into their precious little molds of how soldiers are supposed to act, yeah, authority does all of that. The rest of us get fucked over," Daniel answered sullenly, then looked away. "I wanna go back to the ship. You've sucked all the fun out of exploring a ghost ship. Do you know how hard it is to do that? To suck the fun out of exploring a ghost ship?" This entire conversation had left him depressed.

Keith frowned. What does one say to that? He sighed; it rang too true, much as he'd have wanted to say otherwise. He'd have liked to believe such poor authority figures were a decided minority in the Alliance, but if the kid had just had terrible luck, that was a problem too. "Well… for what it's worth, I'm sorry that happened to you. But you can make this a second chance, you know? To make it better."

"Oh, God," Daniel muttered, shaking his head, then looked to the ceiling and howled. "GET ME OFF THIS SHIP!"

*****

As Flynn and Lance moved down a narrow corridor, a yell echoed through the ship's vents and framework to bounce around them for a few moments. As it dissipated Flynn looked up with a small frown; distortions aside, the voice was familiar. He looked at his commset for a few seconds, but it didn't activate. Probably nothing major, then…

"What the hell was that?" Lance looked up, frowning too. He also thought the voice had sounded familiar… "So uh, you think Keith is okay alone with the kid?"

Smirk. "I think your problem child is the one that's having trouble."

"That's kinda my point," the pilot chuckled, stepping into a side room and looking around. It was empty; a few dents in the near wall might have once indicated fastenings of some sort, probably furniture or decorations. Who knew, really? "Always feel like a grave robber on these types of missions."

"I see your point, not that we're the first." Flynn entered behind him and shook his head and the emptiness. "Someone ought to remember…" He doubted there had been much focus on remembering anything when this site was scavenged.

"Yeah. Nothing left here to take, or to remember." Lance eyed him and decided he may as well try again. "Though no… oxiaction?"

Flynn snorted, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow. "Flyboy, I refuse to believe…"

Lance offered his most innocent smirk. "What?"

"That you don't know what rust is!" He smirked right back.

Knowing when he was beat, for the moment, Lance grumbled theatrically and then changed the subject. "So how's your problem child?"

"Oh, fantastic. He hasn't drawn his knife once this week—at least that I know about. And he hasn't tried to poison himself any more recently than yours has, so that's something?" There was more, much more, he'd have liked to say about that, but Lance had already heard it all. Repeatedly.

Fucking chocolate?

Fucking mercury?!

Laughing, Lance moved on through the next opening and blinked as he turned a corner. The chamber in front of him was not what he'd expected to find here at all… he stepped back immediately, eyes narrowing. "I think I found the garden. You first, I've had bad luck with gardens."

"Garden? You know I hate flowers." Nonetheless the engineer moved up past him, poking his head in the doorway and hesitating. He'd expected to actually find a breached hull and a bunch of mushrooms. There was a hull breach, but… "They don't look like mushrooms."

"Nope, not at all. Seems pretty leafy." None of it had attacked Flynn, so Lance dared to approach again. "Think they're from Altea?" He definitely remembered Butterborg mentioning agricultural exports—what had they been called? Juney berries? Something like that. He approached one of the plants and gave it a careful poke after making very sure there were no thorns to be seen. The stems and leaves were thin, with what looked like large bulbs here and there.

A few of the bulbs had indeed opened into bright pink flowers; Flynn was giving them a wide berth. "Surely not?" He looked more closely at the gash in the hull. Clearly it had been allowing light and water in, but the mushrooms for the most part stayed outside and the flower plants stayed inside. He supposed he could understand this room becoming its own little ecosystem, but it still didn't quite fall together. "As well as this place has been picked over?"

"I mean, maybe. Do people really trade in plants?" It seemed like they might be a tricky thing for looters to deal with.

Snort. "Yes, yes they do, just ask my ex…" He knew that had not been precisely the question—illicit alien plants were a completely different matter—but the opening was a bit too easy.

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you super allergic to flowers?"

"Flowers, fur, and feathers!" He looked at the hull breach again. "Unclear on fungi."

Sounds like some asshole deserves to be an ex! He didn't say it out loud; it might get all awkward. "At least it's not chocolate."

"Yeah, I'm not sure which I'm over less." Flynn had his datapad out and was getting pictures of everything, just in case. "Pidge being poisoned by chocolate, or Hunk putting chocolate in the chili. I know I don't understand food, but chili?"

Lance couldn't help a laugh. "It is a thing."

"Ridiculous."

"You think cheeseburgers are ridiculous." Which is cute, but totally weird. He had started picking through a few of the plants himself, and come across a cluster of pale pinkish spheres. "Are these berries?"

"Might be?" They got some pictures of those, too. "And cheeseburgers aren't ridiculous, they're just disgusting."

"Your taste is questionable."

Flynn eyed him for a moment. That opening was much too easy, too, but… he shook it off. Superior officer, damn it. "Why would I want to eat something with more grease than an engine casing joint?"

"Why wouldn't you want to eat something with gooey cheese?" As the engineer shuddered, Lance put his datapad away and feigned sulking. "Now I want a cheeseburger."

"Of course you do. At least your kid has the sense to try to poison himself with an actual poison."

"At least Pidge is as clueless about chili as you are." There didn't seem to be anything else in the flower room. Had this been useful? Considering what other Altean relics tended to do, maybe they should be glad they'd encountered potential Altean life and not had any kind of crisis… "Daniel doesn't like to think he has any sense, anyway."

"He makes a fair case." Shrug. "But then, he's survived this long… with us."

"He's smart. Smarter than he acts… thinks it's cool not to be." Lance could kind of understand the sentiment, he thought. Too many people thought being smart and playing by the rules had to go together. Enough time on this team, and no doubt the kid would realize that wasn't the case… even if he needed a push or two. Or ten.

Flynn nodded. "And Pidge is brilliant and he knows it, but thinks he can't grasp human contexts for anything… might be a tad self-fulfilling, I think."

That sounded right. "I'd suggest a play date, but it'd probably create something terrible."

"It probably would, we should d…" Flynn stopped, his amusement fading into something between confusion and abject horror. "…I'm sorry, are we standing here discussing play dates like they're our children?"

Lance blinked, his expression mirroring Flynn's. "No… NO. We are not discussing play dates, why would you suggest such a fucking thing?"

"It was your word!" His friend glowered. "Not mine!"

"It's that kid breaking my brain…" Play dates. Fuck's sake. It seemed like they'd pretty well documented the room's contents, so he turned away and shook his head. "Come on, let's get out of here before you start sneezing."

"Yes, let's." Flynn followed him out. "I wonder how Grumpy Ninja and the mechka are doing…"

That got him a raised eyebrow. "What the hell is a mechka?"

"I've no idea."

*****

"This place is creepy."

"It's interesting."

Vince and Pidge had headed for the front of the ship, which had given them a bit more than they'd bargained for. There had been no way of knowing just how much of the vessel was hidden underground; apparently the answer was a lot. It was damp and musty, thanks to scattered cracks in the hull, and the native life was attempting to encroach.

As Pidge approached a broken door with a few tiny mushrooms poking out, Vince glared at them. "Creepy. And it also has mushrooms, the worst fungus ever."

"Do you rank fungi by their positive features?" Pidge tugged at the door but couldn't get it to move; he couldn't see any rust, but the frame looked to have been warped by the impact.

Vince came forward to help. "Fungi has no positive features."

"That seems categorically unlikely…" Between the two of them they managed to push the door free, which definitely wasn't how it had been designed to open. Pidge stumbled forward into a cavernous multi-leveled chamber, just barely catching himself before his teammate tripped over him.

"Hyperbole." Walking in behind the ninja he hesitated. The layout of this room was alien, yet there were familiar elements. A huge area that had been cracked open and plundered, almost certainly once a main viewscreen. A couple of seats, and the remnants of shock absorbers where there may have been others. Framework that might once have held computers and controls. "Is this…?"

"It's something," Pidge murmured noncommittally. He could guess at what Vince was guessing, but this was an alien ship… he approached one of the surviving seats, for certain definitions of 'surviving'. The damp and the mold had claimed the seat coverings before looters had had the chance.

"I think it's the bridge." When the ninja seemed unimpressed by his guess, Vince walked over to the large hull crack that seemed to be admitting several mushrooms. And glared at them. Just because.

Pidge had moved ahead to one of the consoles, finding little more than a few remnants of circuitry. Or at least he assumed it to be circuitry; the thin metallic filaments failed to come with convenient labels. "Could have been. Not enough to tell for sure, though, kir sa tye?"

"Not at all," Vince agreed. "Looks pretty well stripped of anything usable, too." His focus was still on the mushrooms. Something was bothering him about them—something more than their existence—something that might have been pertinent, but he couldn't quite get a handle on what.

Following his gaze, Pidge couldn't help marveling at the relative lack of damage. For that matter… "It's kind of amazing nobody's dismantled the hull itself, yet. Though with as well as it seems to have withstood this crash, maybe nobody's been able to?"

"Yeah, it does seem pretty intact." A particularly large mushroom caught Vince's eye, and he reached for it before he could think better of it. Pushing it aside he found a glint of something beneath a thick layer of spores and fungus bits, and shuddered. "Ugh…!" Staring at whatever was glinting there—an intact panel?—he had a nearly overwhelming urge to reach out and touch it. But it was gross… he wrinkled his nose and backed away instead.

His roommate had moved on to another stripped panel, and was studying the remnants of some wires. "They're just mushrooms, mechka. They don't bite. Usually."

"Uh, yeah, I know that…" He couldn't seem to tear his attention away from the panel, and that was creeping him out almost as much as the fungus covering it. Why would I want to put my hand on that thing so badly? That's weird.

Pidge looked over and tilted his head. "Are you okay? You seem twitchier than usual."

"I don't know…" He felt twitchier than usual. "Maybe I need another risotto lesson from Jace. He'd better not suggest adding mushrooms."

"…Didn't you set the galley on fire the first time?"

"Well, yeah." He flushed. "But Hunk has more than enough extinguishers and stuff around, believe me."

"I'm not worried about putting the fire out," the ninja snorted. "It just didn't seem like the sort of thing you'd voluntarily do again."

"It was actually fun until I blew up the basil." Keep talking, ignore the urge to stick your hand on the spore-covered panel… "Do you have any other suggestions for zen?" It seemed like a long shot, but what the heck.

A very long shot, if the confused look Pidge gave him was any hint. "Zen?"

"Zen, you know, inner peace? Relaxation?"

"Oh." He shook his head. "It isn't a specialty of mine. I usually just kill whatever's bothering me."

Vince eyed him and snorted; that was about what he should have expected to hear from someone with an emotional support knife. "Yeah, that's not really what I'm looking for."

The ninja snapped his head up. "I don't really!" He looked away and made a face. "That would be frowned upon."

"I know you don't. Daniel and Cam are still alive."

That actually won him a bit of a laugh. "True, they are…" He paused, seeming to actually consider the question for a minute. "I've heard meditation works. I was never any good at it, though."

For some reason, hearing that even Pidge wasn't good at meditation actually made Vince feel a little better about things. "Commander Kogane tried to help me with that, I was awful." He was edging towards the panel almost unconsciously. It was the only thing in here that was relatively intact, they really should check it out.

Having finished his own investigations, Pidge approached, still on the topic. "The thing about emptying your mind is that things insist on coming along and trying to fill the space."

"Exactly!" Thank god, someone who actually understood, even if it was the terrifying alien ninja. "You can't just stop thinking!"

Nodding his agreement, Pidge tried to think about what he actually did to stay calm. The unavoidable answer was that he really didn't. He'd been through enough in his life to not be truly rattled by much… but part of that was seeing everyone and everything as a potential threat, and getting used to it. That did not seem like useful advice for actual calm.

Then again… he had been taught meditation, and he'd had to fake his way through those classes. And he'd been taught psionic shielding—the fine art of keeping out the unwanted fragments of other people's telepathy, since he lacked any ability of his own. "Have you tried just thinking about something more… productive?"

"Just redirecting my thoughts?" That seemed way too simple. So simple, in fact, that he couldn't recall anyone else ever making the suggestion. Certainly not here. If the moms had tried, it had probably been in the middle of a list of things that just made him that much more anxious. "Probably worth a shot." The conversation had been good, but his resolve was gone, and he indicated the panel. "I'm gonna pop this open and see if there's anything useful."

Pidge's eyes widened as he came up next to him and got a look at what he'd been staring at. "And it hasn't been ripped off yet? Go for it."

"Weird, right? Given everything else… I think the mushrooms were covering it up." He went to try to open it, but whatever kind of latch might have held the panel down refused to give, and the next thing he knew he'd simply placed his hand flat on the metal.

There was a spark.

—He felt both in and outside of his body. He was standing on solid ground and looking up at the sky and seeing bright stars above him. Making out constellations he'd never seen before, yet it felt like he knew them… he took in one the shape of spiral, another that reminded him of a lion. He stood up on his toes, wanting to get closer, thinking they were trying to tell him something—

"Komora sa kye?!" Pidge jumped back at the spark, more a blinding flash of white light that raced over the panel and into the walls. A few of the mushrooms started smoldering. "Vince? Hey!" He tried to pull him away from the panel and about half succeeded; the other engineer was dead weight, but at least he wouldn't burn his hand.

—He was back on the Altean ship, but still in and out of his own body. The ship was brighter, cleaner, and people surrounded him. They were alien, speaking but he couldn't hear any words, as if they were ghosts—or maybe memories. But they couldn't be his own. He stared at the closest, manning a station at the panel he'd just touched. Their skin was pale and it seemed like something bright blue-green was shimmering underneath it, except for patterns of dark spots and markings on their face and necks. He tried to move closer—

Pidge was still trying to move him, poking his ribs, getting nothing. Vince's eyes were open wide, as if he were in some sort of trance… he knew he needed to call Jace but he'd left his datapad across the room, and he didn't want to just let Vince fall. So he kept slowly trying to drag him across the floor, illogically hoping he'd just wake up and it wouldn't matter.

—He blinked, suddenly back in his own body but dizzy and confused. Looking up he could see Pidge staring at him wide-eyed, but he couldn't speak, his mind was swimming—

"Mijtairra… Vince!"

Everything went black.

*****

Sven and Jace had gone back, up the sloped corridors, finding a broken hatch and squeezing through into what on a human ship would have been the engine bay. On the Altean ship it was impossible to be certain, but…

"I freely admit I don't know shit about spaceships, but why is there a giant rock?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Coming around him, Sven looked up at the rock, which was certainly… well… a giant rock. It was a pale gray-white, dull, and crusted over with inert spores in places. It was also inexplicably connected to what looked like a few remaining cables—though upon a closer examination, the cables had been cut open, whatever metal had been inside of them removed.

Jace approached and poked at the stone, wondering if it might not be quite what it seemed. Nope; felt like rock. "Space is supposed to be your thing?"

"Navigating space is my thing. Alien spacecraft technology is not."

Fair enough, he supposed. Less than helpful, but fair enough. "Well that's disappointing."

"Sorry." The navigator raised an eyebrow. "Though I do know enough not to go around poking it."

Jumping back as though it had scorched his hand, the medic shot him a dirty look. "It's a rock! You cut pieces off a giant monster fin that you thought was a rock."

Sven half nodded, smiling slightly. "That's true. In my defense, I would think dead giant monsters are safer than unknown alien tech."

"There's… actually something to be said for that, sure." Shaking his head and grumbling in Portuguese, he started making his way further down the chamber. It was mostly empty, other than the rock, though some partitions and the remnants of control stations remained. "This place is pretty well cleaned out."

"Makes sense." They hadn't expected much else. "The last anyone we've encountered had heard from the Alteans was over five hundred years ago, wasn't it? This thing's been around a long time."

"It's creepy," the medic muttered.

Sven laughed; he couldn't really dispute it. "You're not wrong, it is a ghost ship…" A huge smile spread over his face. He had a joke for just this situation. "Who says 'shiver me timbers' on a ghost ship?"

Jace turned back to face him, dark eyes narrowing slightly. He knew how this went. "You're going to make me guess, aren't you?"

"Yes." He was barely holding back the laugh.

Fucking… "A cold lumberjack?"

"A skeleton crew!" Sven said gleefully, laughing as much at the joke itself as the expression on his friend's face.

Staring at him, slowly shaking his head, all Jace could really do was wonder why the hell he never saw this coming. "Do you save these jokes just for me?" he finally asked with a dramatic sigh. "To make me suffer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm hilarious."

Now the medic did laugh. "I mean, that's certainly a word…"

"Hmph." Sven crossed his arms. "It's not my fault your sense of humor is as bad as your bedside manner."

"I have a fantastic sense of humor," Jace objected. "It's just less dad jokes, more a healthy disrespect for—"

Out of nowhere, the rock erupted in blinding light.

"—What the actual fuck?!"

"What in holy heavens…"

Both of them had jumped back, and both of them had grabbed the other to drag them along; both of them had thus ended up on the floor, staring at the glowing stone in disbelief. "What in the holy what?" Jace demanded, belatedly realizing he'd drawn his sidearm, his adrenaline falling as he realized the glowing rock was still just sitting there. It looked a bit more crystalline with light pulsing through it. "…Uhhh… no really, what…?"

Sven certainly didn't know and wasn't quite sure he wanted to. "We should go. Before…" Before what, exactly? What had even just happened? Never mind what might be about to happen. "…Well, before you shoot the alien rock and make it angry."

He was rewarded with Jace's best indignant look, which in all fairness was quite good, if perhaps not fully justified. "I'm not gonna shoot the fucking alien rock! …Probably." He stood carefully and holstered his gun; as he did so, the light started to fade from the stone. "Yeah, you better run!"

Pulling himself to his feet as well, Sven couldn't tear his eyes from the rock until the glow had faded entirely. "…Maybe it thought my joke was funny?" Immediately he winced at the inanity he'd just spoken, but what else was he supposed to say?

Jace didn't even mock him. "Tell it another one."

…Well, he did have a very appropriate one on hand. "Why did the sun go to school?" He paused a moment, then snickered. "To get brighter!"

The rock remained dim, and Jace looked over at him, completely deadpan. "It didn't like it."

"I have better ones I could try."

"I dunno, man, that's not a high bar… here, I have a better idea." Finally gathering his wits enough to remember his commset, he pulled it out and flipped it on. "Hey! Engineer types!"

Pidge's voice came back almost immediately—it almost sounded like he'd started transmitting while Jace was still speaking. "Doctor…? I was just about to call you. Vince is a bit unconscious."

"…What." Jace looked at the comms, then at the rock, then at Sven; the navigator's eyes and thoughts were following a similar track. It didn't seem like it could be a coincidence.

No real time for speculation, though. "You'd better go check it out. I'll stay here with the rock, it likes my jokes."

"I mean, someone ought to." Jace thought for the half-second he felt he could spare, then tried his damndest. "Besides, we don't want it to get stone-ly."

He took off before Sven could pass judgment.

*****

Nothing was happening on the Bolt… well, almost nothing. Loud music was thumping from the engine bay, down the corridors, even making its way onto the bridge as a few faint hints of an echo.

The bridge had been boring, anyway. Cam wandered back to the bay, wincing as the volume increased, and found the big engineer playing air guitar by a console. "Hunk?" His only answer was either bellowed lyrics or indiscriminate yelling—or both. Shaking his head, he looked around and located the datapad the noise was coming from, then crossed over and flipped it off.

Hunk blinked and looked over at him. "Rude!" He didn't actually seem surprised; no doubt this had happened before. Perhaps often.

Cam grinned. "Hi." He set his own datapad next to Hunk's; he had the comm and sensor feeds routed to it. "I was bored on the bridge, thought I'd come check on you."

"Sound check?" The engineer walked over and gave his datapad a tap, but didn't turn it back on.

Snort. "How are you not deaf?" He was looking around with interest as he spoke; he'd never really been in the Bolt's engine bay before. It wasn't completely unlike the bridge, except the control stations were designed for standing, and there were four reinforced hatches along the back wall bearing a dizzying array of lights and warning stickers.

"Adaptation, little dude!" Hunk grinned. "So, you here to be the adult supervision?"

Cam eyed him worriedly. "Do you need supervision?"

"Ain't blown anything up yet, have I?" He paused, frowning. "Hell, ain't even had anything legit to blow up. Kinda bummed, I like my job." Breaking out the rocket launcher on a bunch of rabid bugs, no matter how enjoyable, did not quite count as a proper exercise of his job skills. He'd been hoping they might need to blast their way into the Altean ship, but since they'd been told it had already been scavenged, it had seemed unlikely.

He'd still wanted to go, but then he'd lost rock paper scissors with the kids. Twice. Neither of them had respected the addition of the rocket launcher to the game's arsenal. And someone had to stay back and watch the ship; leaving it alone on a planet known to be frequented by looters would just be an awful idea.

Still trying to wrap his head around that comment, Cam finally went for the direct approach. "I thought you were an engineer?"

"I'm the bomb guy, technically." Also a chemical engineer, even more technically, though he much preferred 'bomb guy'. "But I'm tested out as a line mechanic too, part of the gig. Kinda like little gunner dude not actually bein' a gunner."

"Oh! Yeah, I guess that does make sense."

Smirk. "Basically I'm real good with…" He reached around the comms officer and flipped his datapad back on. "Metal!"

Shaking his head, Cam found a spot to sit on a nearby workbench. "So all you listen to is… loud stuff?"

"Harsh, dude. I'm a man of culture!" Hunk pouted, not entirely convincingly. "I listen to quiet stuff too. Sometimes." He took the datapad and scrolled through, switching from Floral Larceny's latest headbanger to a bit from the disco revival of the 2180s. "See?"

"Well… that's… different." Cam wouldn't have called it quiet and he probably wouldn't have called it culture, but different was certainly accurate. He changed the subject. "I was looking for you in the galley earlier. Thought you'd take advantage with the doc out wandering."

At that their bomb guy suddenly looked sheepish. "Uh, yeah… pit boss put me under a galley restriction. I hafta make ingredient lists now." Shrug. "Sounds a lot like work."

"Oh… the thing with Pidge?" He'd heard only vague rumors. "What happened? I thought the chili was good."

"The chili was perfect," Hunk chuckled. "Just had some, uh… nontraditional ingredients Grumpy Ninja wasn't expecting to see outside dessert. He's fine though, just grumpier."

"Well that's good. He's so hard to figure out… I never expected this assignment to be so challenging." Cam veered away from that subject too. "Sorry, didn't mean to just come down here and mope."

Hunk reached over and ruffled his hair. "It's gotta be challenging, little dude. Otherwise any boring old line unit could do it."

"Yeah, you're right." Chuckling as well, he checked the time on his datapad. The others had been gone for a couple of hours. "You think they'll be gone much longer?"

"No idea. May as well have some fun until then, yeah? I mean, since you're here." With a wicked grin, the big engineer produced a guitar seemingly out of nowhere and offered it to him. "I know the boss has been teachin' you swords, how are ya with axes?"

With a puzzled look, Cam accepted the guitar. "An… axe? This looks like a guitar?" Hunk stared at him flatly, and he blushed, though he didn't know what he'd said that was wrong. "Sorry, man… I wish I could play. Gran didn't approve. Wasn't part of the family legacy."

Hunk looked equally puzzled. "You weren't allowed to have any other hobbies?" Are we sure this kid's a teenager? "Harsh, dude."

But Cam smirked slightly. "Sure I was… if I could hide them from her. Something like this, though? I wouldn't have been able to hide it."

Okay, maybe we don't have to revoke that teenager card after all. He was about to ask for more information on those hidden hobbies, because that could be fun, but was interrupted by the comms crackling. As Cam looked down and adjusted the signal, Jace's voice came through.

"Someone open a door, Sparky did some sparking."

"…Uh oh."

"That can't be good."

Jumping up, both ran for the nearest airlock, leaving 2180s disco blasting into the empty engine bay.

*****

It had taken Jace about three minutes to decide Vince had to be returned to the Bolt. He'd taken that upon himself; there was still the crazy-ass glowing rock to look into. So he'd dispatched Pidge to go find Sven and do whatever engineers did with unknown alien tech.

Hopefully poking it.

He had not told Pidge precisely what he was going to look at, and the ninja was a bit surprised to climb up through the hatch and find their navigator standing next to a giant rock. "Reporting, sir."

Sven looked at him and nodded an acknowledgment. "Is Vince alright?"

"He's unconscious, but his vitals were all normal. The doctor took him back to the ship for more testing."

That was worrisome, but at least he was in good hands, and normal vitals seemed like a good sign. "As long as Jace is with him, I'm sure he'll be fine." His encouraging smile didn't seem to make much impact on the young engineer, and he decided to move right along. "Would you like to try and help me with this rock that may not be an actual rock? Or at least not a normal rock…"

Something else to focus on sounded good right about now. "What's abnormal about it?"

"It lit up extremely bright out of nowhere, and then died out." He shook his head and looked at the dull stone, as dim and boring as ever now. "No idea what caused it. Maybe whatever knocked Vince unconscious caused it to power up?"

"…Komora?" Pidge shot him a sharp look, then returned his attention to the rock… or more accurately, the few vestiges of cables still hooked to the rock. Things were trying to make sense here. "Mechka made himself go unconscious… but you still may not be wrong." He approached and pulled out some of the scanning equipment they'd brought, starting to set it up around the stone. It was basic gear—they hadn't expected to need much—but would at least get some energy and composition readings.

Sven wondered at his last comment, but wasn't sure he ought to ask directly. "You'd know better than me. Alien tech is not my area of expertise." He frowned slightly. "Not to say our tech is always my area of expertise either." He still needed to figure out how to refine some of those alarm settings…

Pidge snorted as he got his equipment set up. "I don't know anything about this ship's tech base, sir, and I'd need more than a little time to figure it out." He was only half paying attention, really. His focus was on the rock, and Vince. He didn't expect the scans to tell them much of anything… because he was starting to see the pattern here. Magic. "Computers are unforgiving even when you do know how they work."

"Yes, yes they are." Sven seized that and jumped on it. He'd had some thoughts on the matter bubbling up since the near-disaster at Kel… well, he'd had thoughts since the first route he'd mapped on this team, but now he had a lot of thoughts. And he'd been meaning to grab their systems analyst to discuss them, but hadn't had the chance. "Like the system the Alliance uses for navigation calculations and routing, it's abysmal. It doesn't account for any planetary politics other than the Drules. Occasionally it'll take into account local wars and such, but I mean, on our first run it tried to take us through Drozan. Drozan! They surround their planet with interdiction fields and space mines. It's a great way to die, and any navigator who even slightly knows what they are doing knows to avoid Drozan. But does the computer? No!"

The scans had started up, and Pidge was still just about half listening to Sven's rant as he watched. Was he supposed to respond? He was probably supposed to mutter something empty and vaguely reassuring here. "That's unfortunate."

Sven may or may not have even heard him. "And the alarm system? Horrid. It only warns me about half of the extremely dangerous space anomalies we could encounter, whether in or out of hyperspace, with actual alarms. The other half get beeps, and if I happen to be away from my monitors I could miss them completely. And that's another thing! The transference of nav data from my monitors to my datapad is only half effective. Again, if I'm not paying attention 24/7 I could very easily miss something. You'd think a spacefaring race would develop a better nav system. Though I suppose if they did that I'd be out of a job… so it's not like I have anything to worry about, they won't be fixing or enhancing that system anytime soon."

Pidge's mind had drifted back to Vince again. About the implications if he'd really been the one that caused the rock to power up, about the implications if this ship had been powered by a source that was partially, or even completely, magic-based… it took him a few moments to realize the navigator had stopped ranting.

"…Would you like me to have a look at it?" He wasn't entirely certain what he'd just volunteered for, but he had caught something about fixing or enhancing systems.

"That would be wonderful," Sven said brightly, as if he hadn't even thought of it before. "Even if you could just fix the alarm system, it would be a great help. And make my job significantly less stressful."

"I should be able to." Pidge was still staring at the rock as his first scans completed. "If you can help me with the readings on this thing. I think we're going to need a few more tests." According to the basic material composition check, they were looking at… a rock.

Sven raised an eyebrow. This still wasn't his area of expertise. But he supposed the ninja could tell him what to do, and he would hardly have refused even without getting a favor in return. "Of course."

*****

It was raining on Korrinoth. Romelle was staring out the window, with some vague understanding that there was motion coming from the sky, but she really wasn't seeing it. Nor was she feeling much of anything, though she had some intellectual realization that she was wrapped up in Lotor's arms.

That, at least, was not unusual. The less aware of it she was, the better.

He was stroking her hair and watching, waiting for her to return to her senses. He, too, was used to this—it took her a long time to recover from sex, and he was gratified she'd learned to abandon herself to it rather than the nervousness she'd once shown. "A'kuri?"

Romelle had learned to react to the word. To cling to it like a life raft and pull herself back from the nothingness. Now she blinked slowly, turning to him as the world came back into focus. "Sincline…?"

"Ah, you're back." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she blushed.

"Yes, sorry, I… thank you."

"There's nothing to apologize for," he countered. "I'm glad you've come to enjoy yourself…"

Enjoy herself? "Um, yes," she managed after a moment's hesitation. "Very much." She couldn't manage the kind of enthusiasm the words had probably called for, but he seemed to accept them anyway, and she exhaled in relief.

Even more relieving, he didn't dwell on the subject. "There's some excitement coming up soon. One of our grandest traditions." He gave a bright smile, baring his fangs. "I'm excited to share it with you."

A grand tradition? She did genuinely brighten at that. "That sounds wonderful." Learning the culture of her new people was always enjoyable. Though a second thought came on the heels of the eagerness. "How… how soon? I had been hoping to have your permission to go home for a few days…" Her last letter from Avok had been warm but brief, and the message clear. "My mother is in a delicate state, and she's been asking after me. I'd like to see her."

Lotor blinked. "Your mother?" He'd simply assumed her mother to be dead, considering… "She's never come to Korrinoth, has she?"

"No." Romelle shook her head sadly. "As I said, her health is… very delicate. She's kept in her chambers with very few visitors." Frowning, she looked away; she could probably keep her voice even, but couldn't fight back a tear trying to well up, and she didn't want the prince to see that. "Father won't even see her. He feels it's best to speak as though she's dead."

Aha. Lotor snorted. "Your father has many 'thoughts', allegedly."

"Yes," she agreed softly. "It's only because of me and Avok that she is even being cared for, really."

"Shameful." He wondered if he ought to bring up his own mother's death here. Was that how one was meant to relate to a consort? No, it didn't seem correct—this courtship was about the union of their peoples and the glory of the kingdom, she didn't need to hear nonsense about his feelings. Offering a solution would be much more useful. "Perhaps once we're wed, we can have her brought here? Grant her a proper quarters and see her properly cared for…"

Hope sparked in Romelle's eyes for a moment, then faded as she considered what that would actually require. She couldn't imagine her mother handling space travel. "As… as much as I would love that, I'm not sure her health would allow for it. Much less what father would think…"

Taking her shoulders, Lotor gently brought her around to meet his eyes. "Don't worry about what he thinks, dear a'kuri. Your family is here now."

The tears hadn't gone away, which was just as well, because that brought a few new ones forth. "I… thank you," she murmured, reaching up to touch his hand. "I'm honored."

He smiled, kissing her forehead, then sobered a bit. "As for visiting her…"

"I would only like a few days," she said hopefully. "If you will permit it?"

"I would, but not so soon, I fear. The gladiatorial season begins in a few short days, you see… it is our duty to be there." Lotor brushed a few of her tears aside. "There will be blood, and glory, and many courageous warriors battling for the favor of the crowds and the Crown. We must honor that. But once the games are concluded, we can certainly arrange such a trip."

"Oh…" Romelle nodded slowly. She'd heard murmurs of the upcoming 'festivities', though she'd had no real sense of what they entailed until now. "How long do they last?"

"It depends on who triumphs. A phase or two, most often."

That had been longer than she'd expected, or perhaps hoped—the Drules based much of their calendar on the moon phases of their ancestral homeworld, and a phase was somewhat analogous to a Polluxian month. But then, she would simply have to get used to it. She was here to become a princess of Korrinoth, and to protect Pollux… the needs of the Ninth Kingdom came before the needs of Pollux.

A cruel irony, but it was what she had. "I… I suppose that should be alright."

"It will be alright," he promised. "Perhaps we can still be of some help in the meantime. Would you like us to send a priest to assess her health?"

He seemed eager to help, and Romelle wondered if she ought to explain the reality of her mother's condition. But then, she had a feeling that wouldn't change his mind, and she didn't want to talk about it, so she just shook her head. "I'm not sure, sincline. I don't think there is much to be done for her, and I would at least have to discuss it with Avok."

That was a name Lotor put far more stock in than her father's, and he nodded. "If you change your mind, whatever you think can be done for her, we will do our best to arrange. And as soon as possible we will have you back to see her. Will you be happy with that?"

As happy as she could be in these circumstances, certainly. "Yes… thank you, sincline."

*****

Private Knaps struggled with the package he carried as he rushed down the tunnel pathways. He was on a mission—not a sanctioned one, technically. Nobody had asked him directly. His given task was to be a runner between the shelters, to move messages and occasionally supplies between the dwindling populations of refugees. But on his last trip to the Falastol shelters he'd seen something curious, several guards attending to a sick kid… with that kind of attention, it didn't take much for him to guess that it was someone important. Arus couldn't afford to lose much more. Not people of importance. Not children. So he'd rushed off on his own initiative… but by the time he'd made it back to the shelter with his bundle, the kid and the guards were gone.

Luckily, some were willing to point him in the direction they had gone. So he continued his run, with curious noses poking out of the box to see where they were going. As he got closer to the castle shelter, he was thanking the gods that the small critters never tried to escape, despite the few tumbles he'd taken. One had fallen from the box when he'd stumbled over, but it hadn't even attempted to escape; it had just snorted a spark at him.

It was unusual behavior, but he wasn't going to object…

Doing a final count of his box's contents, he let out a satisfied huff as all five puzzled salamanders stared back at him. The largest one turned towards the shelter and belched a spark, almost as if to announce its arrival. The small creatures were mostly a curiosity on Arus, but the fire from the embers they spat was held to have particularly soothing effects on many illnesses.

"Is that you, Knaps?"

Knaps looked up as he heard his name called. Seeing a fellow soldier, he waved and headed towards him. "Hey there, Fronad. Have you seen a kid come through here? Kind of sick, fancy clothes, had a lot of guards about him? Thought some fire salamanders might help him."

Fronad winced, then rubbed his palm across his chin. "I may have seen him…" His tone was muted. "Knaps, how much news have you heard while traveling through the tunnels?"

"Umm. Not much really, it was a long run and these guys can be… wiggly." As if to prove it he reached up to retrieve the smallest one, which had decided to climb up to his head.

"I see," Fronad acknowledged, keeping one eye on Knaps' haul in the box. There was no way to really break this gently. "The child you are looking for is Prince Tanner… and I'm afraid I must tell you, your very good intentions are very much too late."

"Oh… Golden Gods…" Knaps looked down at the salamanders. "What am I supposed to do with these critters? I'd be a fool if I were to present myself now."

Fronad sighed as he looked at his fellow guardsmen. Private Knaps had a reputation among the militia for doing strange and sometimes even foolish things, but he always had the best of intentions. Picking one of the salamanders up, he considered how to make the best of it. "I've heard of salamander fire being used for various illnesses. You know how?"

Knaps perked up with a proud smile "Yup, my Granny made sure I could use one should I ever need to." Convincing the little lizards to produce sparks on command—without hurting them—was an art, but one practiced among Arusian folk healers for generations.

"Well, then… if they do work, perhaps then you can share that wisdom here. There are plenty of others sick in the shelters. You may not be able to help the Prince, but I'm sure the Princess would appreciate—"

"—What would I appreciate?" a voice chimed in near them. Allura had been coming out to check with the guards; there were plans that needed to be made, after all…

"Y-your Majesty!" Knaps stuttered as they both quickly saluted her presence. "These salamanders, your majesty. I thought to bring your brother some when I saw him during my tunnel running tasks. I'm very sorry to hear of his passing." The last bit, he said softly.

Allura smiled, a bit sadly. Picking up one of the slender creatures, she marveled at how it didn't seem to want to flee her. Instead, it moved to wrap itself around her neck. "How were you able to gather so many of these? I thought they avoided contact as much as possible, not to mention living in the hottest parts of the Burning Ridge…"

"Yes… they normally do, but here's the weird thing, Princess. Lots of the shelters near there are finding these guys coming in and just helping to warm the place. These salamanders I brought were just crawling around one of those tunnels, following the runners. It's like they're making their way into as many shelters as they can."

"That does sound strange," she agreed, tilting her head. "And they are used for?"

"Healing, between the fire they create and the protective oils on their skin. Very helpful for various things. I'm willing to share all that my granny taught me," Knaps said proudly.

Placing a hand on the salamander, she felt a small glimmer of emotion, of wanting to help. "Then let's see how well they do here. There are still others who are in need." Giving the salamander by her neck a rub on its chin, she turned to lead Private Knaps to the doctors.

The remaining salamanders settled back in the box he was carrying, giving a happy burp of sparks as they moved ahead. "Easy guys," he whispered to them. "This is the big time, best behavior. Okay?"

Their response was a collective belch of sparks.