Coding vs. Creed
Chapter Summary: Echo gives Voltaro a taste of his own technolgy. Tech gets crafty. The Bad Batch may have it a little easier than what Easy's intel suggested.
Chapter Notes
I'm sure nobody was wondering this, but here's is how I decided to use the name Met Voltaro:
- Met is from methane because that's one of the gases that Skakoans breathe
- Voltaro from Alessandro Volta because he's is credited with discovering/ first identifying methane
It's been a long time since Thaxx led his two lackeys down to the brig to interrogate Tech, and Echo's really starting to get concerned. He knows Tech will never, ever yield any of the information that they're trying to get out of him, so that's not the problem. The real issue is that he's likely talking too much, and all about nothing they want to hear. Thus making it harder for the bounty hunters to restrain themselves and recognize the practical limits of their grisly methods.
When the door to the ready room opens and Thaxx returns, Echo and the Skakoan seem equally surprised. The bounty hunter's looking worse for wear, Echo notices with satisfaction. Thaxx appears flustered, he's sweating profusely, and his face is starting to bruise up in more than one spot.
"Make any progress with it?" the bounty hunter asks the Skakoan, regarding his crude and futile exploration of Echo's cybernetics.
"None," Voltaro reports, gruffly. "What have you gotten from the clone in your brig?"
"That's why I came up here," Thaxx explains. "The mechanic's proving to be plenty more resilient than he looks. We've gotten nothing out of him so far and it's not been for lack of trying. Ryybor's stepping it up a notch, but I was thinking that maybe you could say something to speed this up."
"Like what?" Voltaro asks irritably. "I thought you and your associates were skilled in this department."
"We are, trust me. It's just going to take longer than expected," says Thaxx. "You could give him a little bacta for his wounds, if you know what I mean. Appeal to his pride. Tell him how impressed you are with his work, that you'll reward him for his participation in your trials. Or whatever banthashit you think will work on him."
"Hmm," the Skakoan considers the idea. "Alright, it's not like it could do any harm at this juncture. I'm still firmly locked out from accessing the algorithm, and Emir doesn't like to be kept waiting. Put me through."
Echo sees Thaxx toggle the commlink on his wrist.
"Ko'haq, it's me," he says into the device. "Get good and close to the mechanic and make sure he can hear. The representative from the Techno Union wants to talk to him."
"Sure thing boss," the Twi'lek answers over the sound of Ryybor's snarls, Tech's pained groans, and an unusual rattling noise akin to metal sliding along a pole. "I was about to have Ryybor lay off a minute anyway because he's gettin' carried away. Stand by."
Echo tries not to think too much about the Twi'lek's ominous report regarding the Trandoshan. He waits with bated breath, desperate to hear a trace of his younger brother's crisp, refined speech. The moments drag on, and Echo starts to worry profusely about what could be taking so long.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Echo hears the chirp of the incoming signal on Thaxx's commlink.
"Sorry for the delay, boss. He was fadin' so I just had TG-3 give him a stim shot," reports the Twi'lek. "He's definitely alert now though, heh. Whenever you're ready, Representative Voltaro."
Echo watches with malice as Thaxx removes his vambrace and passes it across the worktable to Voltaro's gauntleted, outstretched palm. The Skakoan doesn't waste any time in trying to get the data he wants from Tech.
"This is Met Voltaro of the Techno Union," declares the Skakoan. "Make yourself known if you can hear me, clone."
Seconds pass without an answer until Echo hears a loud, bodily thud, followed by a pained groan and that same rattling of metal.
"I h-hereby," replies Tech in a hoarse, strained voice, "establish my… e-existence."
Echo scarcely recognizes the tone, but he knows there's only one vod in the galaxy who would conceive of, let alone actually provide that for an answer. And said vod sounds disturbingly unlike his usual enthusiastic self at the moment.
My clever, aggravatingly talkative Tech, Echo thinks sadly. Please don't be enraging them too much for my sake, brother.
"Good. Listen closely. I've been conducting an extensive analysis on Emir's recovered algorithm experiment," says Voltaro. "I'm assuming you understand how poorly this is going for me and that my efforts have yielded nothing but errors."
"Of course… I do," Tech says.
"I see. Now, I've just learned that you're responsible for the modifications made to and the continued maintenance of the experiment," Voltaro continues. "Will my tests and attempts to breach its revised cerebral interface continue to fail unless you grant me access to what I need?"
"Obviously," Tech huffs nonchalantly.
"Will you grant me that access?"
The question hangs heavily in the air on both ends of the conversation.
After a few moments, Tech responds with audacious laughter. Though it quickly loses its desired effect when it morphs into a pained, rasping, hack, his initial cackling had the desired effect on the enraged Voltaro. Echo fights the urge to cringe as the moments pass by and his brother's blatant insolence shows no signs of abating.
"Oh," Tech says mildly, only after he's finished lulling and hacking flagrantly and in excess. "Was that question n-not… rhetorical?"
The Skakoan's beady eyes narrow dangerously.
"I understand that you clones are instilled with a strong sense of loyalty," says Voltaro. "But even though you're bred artificially, you're still human. And so you still desire the pleasures that all men do. I can provide you with those pleasures."
"I f-find that… highly… improbable," Tech rasps. To Echo's dismay, he's sounding increasingly less Tech-like by the syllable.
"It's the truth. It's obvious to me that you possess rare ingenuity and mechanical prowess. We, at the Techno Union, value these traits and will generously compensate you for your service," explains Voltaro, confidently delivering his spiel. "Take employment at the Techno Union, clone, and you'll never want for anything or have to fight another pointless battle as worthless cannon fodder ever again. You'll live a life of luxury and be given the opportunity to work on countless groundbreaking projects. If Emir is as impressed with your work as I am, he may even see fit to commission you your own lab."
Voltaro gives the clone a few moments to ponder his lavish offer, but there's no response from Tech.
"You can't deny that this offer appeals to you," Voltaro demands.
"Your… m-mother appealed to m-me," Tech says haltingly, breaking his brief stint of silence.
"What's that now?" demands the Skakoan, sounding completely perplexed. He turns to glare accusingly at the lead bounty hunter. "Thaxx! Those barbarians of yours hit him too hard, now he's delirious!"
"Ahem. Y-our m-mother, Skak-koan. Appealed to me when… I saw her," Tech insists. "In… in a bawdyhouse on Nal Hutta. She was charging half-a-cred for the … battalion. But I talked …her down to a b-bar… of issued soap—aaargh!"
Echo almost chokes with mirth at the absolute absurdity of the comment! But then, he needs to stop himself from roaring out curses when Tech's obscene remark contorts into a terrible shout of pain.
The tension in the room mounts ever higher. Thaxx's frustration with the prisoner is palpable, and the Skakoan levels the bounty hunter with a resentful scowl and hurls the commlink back to its owner. Echo's eyes follow the vambrace as it flies back across the exam table and collides noisily with Thaxx's open palm.
Irate with the insolent clone in his brig, the bounty hunter snatches the comm up to his face and cues it immediately.
"Mechanic! You listen here, you arrogant little skug," Thaxx growls at Tech. "We haven't even yet begun to-
"...S'okay," Tech interrupts him softly, unexpectedly, and heedless of the fiery threats.
Thaxx grimaces quizzically, unsure of what to make of the prisoner's feedback.
"If you got something to say, mechanic, speak up and say it clearly."
"...S'okay," Tech says again, coughing painfully. "S'okay, vod. It'll be ok… aaagh-"
He's talking to me, Echo realizes with a start. By interrupting and disregarding Thaxx's threats, his brother's taking an enormous risk with his physical health, and all just to give him a few spare words of solace.
"And now it's just gibberish!" cries Voltaro. "I've heard enough, Thaxx. I thought you said you had this under control!"
"We do," the bounty hunter snarls defensively. "We just haven't thrashed him hard enough yet."
Echo swallows thickly, masking his attempts to flex the muscles in his neck. If Tech, aware of the price he'd pay for trying it, was going to reach out to comfort Echo, then Echo decides that he too is going to give his little brother a moral boost. He watches Thaxx turn toward the door, waiting for the moment that the bounty hunter cues his commlink to his men in the brig. The ARC discreetly clears his throat, fills his lungs with air, and holds it.
"Ko'haq, forget it," Thaxx orders. "We'll do it our way. I'm on my way back now to-
"Lula!" Echo suddenly bellows in the bounty hunter's direction, as loudly as he possibly can. "Lula's been found! They—hrrrrrggggttt-"
Voltaro quickly gives Echo another substantial prod with his electrojabber as Thaxx storms out of the compartment. It's the same device that had rendered the ARC paralyzed just before the tests began.
Echo feels himself convulsing with burning-hot electricity for several agonizing seconds before he slumps down onto the table, as stiff and droid-like as before. And yet…
Something's different this time, Echo realizes with disbelief. The shock doesn't hurt any less than the first one did, but… maybe his neural system or body's circuitry developed a sort of strength or immunity against the weapon? It's definitely something to ask Tech about later. But for now, he'll just be content with reaping the benefits.
He concentrates inwardly, letting his organic and cybernetic mind work together, more harmoniously than ever before, and investigates the status of his own health. Whether this augmented ability is a fluke due to the harmful signals and currents he's been exposed to for several hours now, or if he's in some way evolving, he doesn't care. He's just amazed and thankful when the details of his own anatomy are shimmering before him in a visual field of data streams. Exploring much further than the LULA broadcast and ignoring the plentiful red flashes of warning, he finds his answer. He's somehow able to understand that he is adapting and that it's a unique result of his hybrid organic and cybernetic systems complementing each other.
Echo's confident there's no way Voltaro could comprehend or predict this phenomenon, and Echo doesn't intend to enlighten him. Instead, he lays patiently, waiting for the Skakoan to be entirely focused on his breaching efforts once again. Voltaro still can't see that the gateway to Echo's abilities and insight lies in his is his organic brain, his free will, his humanity, his spirit. The Skakoans may have been able to break into his mind before, but his fearless, loyal friends put a stop to it. Then, his best friend fortified him against it ever happening again.
Sorry, Fives, Echo thinks, teasing the ghost of his beloved batchmate. I guess you've been officially replaced as top dog in my vode rankings.
But Fives wouldn't be remotely hurt by this. No, Fives would laugh and make some joke about 'taking Tech out the picture' and then run over and give the engineer an affectionate noogie. Or he'd dramatically declare how 'betrayed' he felt, and then rush off to recruit another vod into their fold to 'take Echo's place.' The truth is, Fives would be overjoyed with Echo's newfound relationships and come to love Tech as much as Echo does. Simply because Echo does.
Tech would have loved you too, he tells Fives' ghost.
With a pang of grief, Echo wishes Fives was here to help them now...
However, because Echo yearns for it, Fives is here with him now. Not physically, of course, but spiritually, and in a way that Fives would certainly approve of. From beyond the grave, Fives is still encouraging Echo to be better, to do better, to try harder. He's still nudging him into beast mode when Echo needs it the most. Still helping Echo remember what it means to earn the title ARC and to don the kama. Still inspiring him to be the best vod he can possibly be and more.
You'll always be with me, Echo realizes fondly. You relentless bastard, you...
"Sir, our ship's short-range sensors are detecting lifeforms," TG-2 says, disrupting both Echo's thoughts and the Skakoan's agitated probing. "I should take up station in the passageway and secure the compartment from without. It's standard protocol."
"Fine, fine," says Voltaro, absentmindedly waving the droid away. "The moon's inhabited. It was only a matter of time before the local heathens got curious."
"Roger," says the droid. "Yes, that's the likely source of the alarm."
Voltaro isn't paying attention to the droid as it leaves the room and posts up outside the door. Instead, the Skakoan is immersed in Echo's cybernetics again, ardently trying to figure out a way to breach access to the clone's valuable neural system.
...
"I guess I'll just have to resort to more desperate measures," mutters Voltaro to himself, shaking his head in frustration. "I didn't want to have to experiment on the engineer as we did on the ARC, but he's left me no choice, with all this… all this foolishness."
It dawns on Echo that his brother could now be in danger of being subjected to something like what he went through on Skako Minor, and his blood starts to boil. He barely hears the Skakoan making a call to some other Techno Union crony as rage and protectiveness well up inside of him.
"It's Met Voltaro. I need to set up another encrypted link with Emir Tambor," Voltaro's saying into his commlink.
Echo tries not to let the pounding of his own heart keep him from listening in on at least one side of the Skakoans' conversation.
"No, I didn't gain access yet. But they captured another clone that likely has the knowledge of how to do so," Voltaro continues. "I need Emir's approval to take the clone and the algorithm to a remote facility to begin experimenting on the human. I'll need the funds to pay these bounty hunters and I'll need Emir to allocate the retinue and resources..."
He's talking about Tech, Echo knows with certainty. They're going to try to cut into Tech just like they did to him, and Echo's not having it. The ARC takes a sharp breath in through his nose, harnesses his rising adrenaline, and fixates on his target.
"Yes, I'll hold," Voltaro sighs.
The preoccupied Skakoan barely has time to react to what comes next.
With a wave of resolve, Echo jerks his upper body up, off the table, pulling ferociously at and snapping the numerous cables still attached to his cybernetic anatomy. With the back of the Skakoan's ugly, crenelated head in range, Echo drives his socket-arm toward the center of it.
Exhibiting more agility than expected, the Skakoan recoils, abandons his call, and parries Echo's attack using that karking metal prod of his. Likely wary of the unexpected outburst Echo made while Thaxx was still here, the shrewd Skakoan scientist has the weapon ready. Echo grunts as his socket-arm is knocked away and his body shifts with the force of the block. The Skakoan wastes no time in ramming the weapon into the center of Echo's torso and activates the paralytic shock specifically designed to render beings like him powerless.
The effect is immediate. This close to the cybernetics in his chest, direct contact with the shock is devastatingly painful. However, it's evidently different in efficacy because Echo discovers he can muster the strength to fight against it.
He's almost flat on his back again by the time he gets his elbow under him, but he manages to steady himself before he collapses down onto the table. He's not falling backward anymore and he's not losing all bodily sensation, but he's frozen in a contest with an armament that reliably causes both. The convulsions are excruciating and persistent, but he's still finding a way to fight against them before they can overwhelm him.
"What!" exclaims the Skakoan, outraged that his weapon appears to be less effective on the captive than it's been for every previous assault.
Echo feels like he's about to shatter when the weapon's energy surges and intensifies to its maximum output. The burning sensation is almost unbearable, and it nearly sends him spiraling back down into that paralyzed stasis, like it has so many times in the past. But he grits and gnashes his teeth as every single muscle and circuit in his body grapple to keep him upright and cognizant. Little by little, he rises closer to a sitting position and, finally, is able to raise his socket-arm and jam it between the electrified weapon and his bare, burning skin.
Still struggling against the current, he manages to wedge his scomp against the rounded tip of the electro-jabber. With a groan, he inserts his socket-arm directly into the small surface area of the weapon's business end. Intuitively knowing it's going to happen before it does, his scomp link seats right into the end of the Baktoid Armories-built weapon. Gradually, Echo's able to break the electrified baton's contact with his aching chest, and then press it further away from his trembling body.
The noxious, paralyzing current is still coursing copiously through Echo's composition. The shocks permeate and assault every centimeter of him as jagged, neon blue bolts of electricity envelope him in violent waves. Then, through the glowing haze of his azure inferno, Echo sees Voltaro reach his other arm out, trying to grasp his abandoned commlink.
Remembering the sick and entirely unacceptable words the Skakoan said about Tech during his last transmission, Echo's own hand strikes out to prevent Voltaro from calling for help. Initially, he intends to swat at the Skakoan's arm and possibly fling the device away. Instead, he ends up seizing Voltaro's wrist like a manacle of beskar and pulls the Skakoan away from the commlink and closer to Echo's exam table.
"No!" shouts Voltaro. The specialized construction of his pressure suit is preventing him from receiving any of the dangerous shocks that Echo's enduring, but his wideset eyes are wild with fear and bewilderment. "This isn't... this can't be!"
Echo begs to differ but just keeps letting his actions do the talking.
Tapping into his fury as a protective ori'vod and his stamina and skill as an ARC Trooper, he rises further from the table while pulling Voltaro closer down to it. He then angles his scomp, targeting the butt-end of the Skakoan's electro-jabber ever closer to Voltaro's own body.
"No! This behavior! These- these abilities!" Voltaro wails again. He's shrieking with the physical effort of the fight and in genuine disbelief. "They're not in your coding!"
"Maybe not," Echo says through a clenched jaw, decisively turning the tide of the struggle. "But they're in my creed."
As the Skakoan lets out one last warbling, pitiful cry of terror, Echo rallies all his strength behind his scomp link and shoves the electro-jabber up toward one of the only vulnerable places on Voltaro's form. With his other hand still locked around Voltaro's wrist, Echo wrenches the Skakoan's weight down into the strike while shifting Voltaro's body to accommodate his aim and increase the relative impact of the blow.
With a fierce growl and a whir of his Skako Minor-issued socket-arm, Echo forces the inert end of the electro-jabber into the side of the Voltaro's unprotected head. The long, spinning shaft plunges into the Skakoan's exposed earhole, drills straight into his skull, and exits the other side of the hideous, purple head.
The Lula signal has been received, Tech muses as the bounty hunters continue to interrogate him. His captors are not at all happy with the boorish remark he made to the Skakoan, and they still seem to think that their brutal methods are going to get results. By now, Tech's bleeding profusely from wounds older and new, he's sporting several broken bones, and he's well on his way to losing consciousness. His voice has gone hoarse from shouting, and it's increasingly difficult for him to draw breath. The stim shot provided to him by TG-3 has almost completely worn off, and yet these laser-brained outlaws are still convinced that he's "on the verge of talking."
Lula has been received, Tech reminds himself again as the mass of pins and needles that is his severely broken arm is tugged agonizingly further into a more unnatural position. But, the pain doesn't matter because their signal was found by the Republic and help is on the way. Tech knows that if Echo was trying to report that the signal was discovered by their captors, he wouldn't have referred to it as Lula still. He tries to let the good news sink in, but he can't help being concerned about the price Echo likely paid for delivering that message to him.
Hazily swinging from the implacable cuffs around his wrists, Tech ruminates about his ori'vod upstairs as he desperately tries to stave off sleep. He gets a useful jolt of awareness when hears the cell hatch open with a whoosh, followed by the approach of angry footfalls.
"Holy kraytspit, Ryybor!" Thaxx exclaims when he enters and appraises the state of the prisoner. "Think you put enough holes in him yet?"
"He's not sayin' anything useful yet," Ryybor says, haphazardly taking a hefty swipe at the back of the prisoner's legs with a clawed foot. "He needs more motivation, then he'll crumble. You'll see ."
Tech throws his head back and screams involuntarily when the Trandoshan's claws rake the backs of his thighs and knees. Biting his tongue and the side of his cheek to keep from crying out further, he can't find the energy to lift his head back to center. Instead, he swings languidly in his chains, blinking blearily up at the blurry image of his own raw, bloody wrists cuffed around a narrow orange and grey-painted pipe.
...
The next thing he knows, he's getting jabbed with another needle in his neck and feeling the almost instantaneous rush of a stimulant as it hisses into his bloodstream. His eyes, which he hadn't realized he'd closed, snap open and he fixates one last time on the vibrating pipe holding his weight before he wills his head forward to rest on his chest. Warm blood drips down from somewhere on his head or face and seeps into the fibers of his tattered blacks.
"There, that oughta help him stay sharp," says Thaxx. "But no more blood, for now, Ryybor. Ko'haq, you step in for a while, let the Dosh wipe his claws dry."
"Alright. Ryybor stand aside- hmph, hang on, I'm getting an alert for something," says the Twi'lek consulting the vambrace on his arm. "Uh, we got a proximity alarm, boss. Our sensors are picking up lifeforms inbound."
"Kark," Thaxx swears. "Eh, it's probably just some snooping locals. Either way, let's not risk it. TG-3, I want you outside the ship on watch and to tell TG-2 to post up outside the ready room. Ryybor, sniff around and see if you find anyone lurking where they shouldn't be. Ko'haq, get to the bridge and keep an eye on anything incoming. I'll stay down here and work on the mechanic."
Tech doesn't dare hope that it's Republic forces inbound to extract him and Echo as he listens to the sounds of Thaxx's crew carrying out their respective orders. But in the event that friendly forces, favorably in the form of Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker, are en route, Tech's worried that these sly bounty hunters will have the drop on them when they arrive. There has to be something he can do to help even the numbers and try to make it a little less dangerous for his brothers to attack.
"Did you hear, me?" demands Thaxx angrily.
"No," Tech rasps candidly.
"I said, we got locals inbound, mechanic. Maybe watching one or two innocents take your hits for you will help loosen your tongue. What do you think of that?"
"I-I think," Tech says strenuously. "You are a-absolutely… barbaric. And that… the tension of my tongue…will be u-unaffected by-
Thwack!
His answer is cut short when Thaxx punches him so hard in his already damaged ribcage, that Tech's certain that one of his broken ribs has treacherously invaded his pleural cavity. He chokes out a yell of pain, then coughs agonizingly as he tries and fails to draw in an ample breath. Stim shot number two hasn't worn off yet, but the lack of oxygen and the pain caused by any attempt to inhale, make the room spin and seem darker.
Tech, sways back and forth from the narrow pipe, coughing as he tries to gasp for air, and feeling the warm spray of blood leave his mouth he does. The events of the interrogation were proving to be exceptionally damaging, but that last strike may qualify to be more troublesome than the others. Tech's not sure how many more comparable hits he can sustain.
Vaguely, he recognizes that Thaxx is talking to him, threatening him, or asking him more questions. The bounty hunter is circling slowly, saying something, but Tech can't make out what. All he can do is try not to choke on his own blood as he waits for his swinging to slow. His head sags backward once more, and again he gazes dimly at the orange and grey pipe above him.
The pipe…
The pipe is able to support his weight and movement, but the tell-tale vibrations of the metal indicate that it's nearing its capacity. It may hold one above average-height, lean clone trooper, but it almost certainly wouldn't hold two adult humans. What's more, if Tech's right about the orange and grey paint job, that means he's been shackled to a hydraulic fluid line. And that means there's likely auxiliary machinery in the ceiling panels above the compartment. Depending on the fitting, a knowledgeable mechanic like Tech would be able to determine the type of auxiliary machinery hidden on the other side.
Thaxx is still talking to and still circling him, but Tech wholly ignores him now. He squints up at the pipe and the fittings on the ceiling, furiously trying to make his deficient and wounded eyes focus. But it's no use, especially after Thaxx delivers another blow to his lower back. It sends him swinging once more and ruins the possibility of him gaining any visual clarity of the equipment above him.
Oh, of course! Why didn't he think of it sooner? He can't see the fittings, but if he grabs onto the pipe with one hand, he might be able to reach out and touch them with the other.
It's utterly agonizing, but Tech manages to briefly hang onto the pipe with his right hand and compel his broken, left arm up so that he can probe the ceiling with his other. It takes two tries, but when Tech feels his fingers brush up against the familiar fittings that are indicative of high pressure and high volume, he finally determines how he can improve the odds for any inbound vode or innocents. And that's by taking Thaxx out of the fight before the lead scoundrel even gets a chance to engage.
Tech waits for Thaxx to circle around to his front, anxiously anticipating the moment when the bounty hunter is within the range needed for his plan. He just hopes there's enough strength left in his exhausted body to do what he must.
At long last, Thaxx finishes his pacing around Tech's prone, dangling form. He's still hungry for answers and still weighing his next questions when he gets a call on his commlink.
Now or never, thinks Tech. For Echo. For the Batch.
"Yeah?" Thaxx answers his commlink. Tech doesn't waste the energy trying to eavesdrop on the entire conversation because he's saving it for something more radical. "What do you mean "he's not responding'"?!
Thaxx makes the big mistake of turning his back to the prisoner as he takes the call, and Tech capitalizes on it.
With more strength than he ever knew was possible for him to still have, Tech swings himself forward and wraps both of his lithe, sinewy legs around the bounty hunter's throat. Alarmed, Thaxx neglects his call and reaches up to loosen the shockingly strong hold around his neck. But Tech only locks his ankles together, squeezes tighter, and uses the bounty hunter's thrashing momentum to pull against his cuffs and the pipe supporting him
Choking, Thaxx momentarily loses his footing and stumbles backward, closer to where the prisoner is shackled. Tech takes this opportunity to use Thaxx's extra body weight and give the pipe a potent yank. Under the added strain, the narrow pipe tears away from the ceiling, ripping out the framing and machinery housed above it. In a cacophony of screeching metal and bursting pipes, the entire ceiling panel and an avalanche of heavy auxiliary equipment and hydraulic fluid cascade down upon the two men in the compartment below.
There's just enough time for Tech to realize that his plan has worked beautifully before he and his captor are pelted by the sizable weight of the falling materials. Tech even thinks he's able to use Thaxx to break his fall for him some before they're both buried and everything goes black.