[05.25: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Such joys, such misery, such wonder, such horror…]
'Yes, this is just like Gotham if you pretend all the aliens and monsters are just like the monsters in human skin that make up much of home's high-society' Barbara Gordon thought to herself taking a very delicate looking crystal glass filled with wine into hand as she stood beside Kara's Callum. She was here as bodyguard, minder, and eye-candy in Kara's viewpoint…as well as observer for Bats on everything that was happening out in this terrible place. Mostly because….Kara really wouldn't like being here, and might potentially cause a fight amidst the monsters.
Oh, her best friend had gotten through bad places before, but this was 'civilized' evil that was far too familiar to Barbara, even if the faces were very, very, different. Kara would be desperately resisting the urge to march over to the group nearby where a tiny lizardman of some sort held a an equally short naked non-human boy/man (halfling like Lord of the Rings?) on a leash while chatting too some abominations that were going to eat brains shortly. Live brains, from poor wretches who'd committed some local crime. The worst part was…Barbara had heard, seen in one or two of the *bad* nights, of just as bad, or worse, when it came to Arkham's costumed and non-costumed lunatics. All dressed in what probably counted as the local Sunday best.
There was a menagerie of…things being display, with friendly staff, mostly human and near human as best she could tell, giving brief overviews of what they were. Serious money was involved in all this, even if some of the prices given had weird restrictions, or simply disturbing cost prices. Such as the strange sword with an eerie purple light that came with the starting price of 'Minimum Bid: One Humanoid Soul Fragment'. Callum had muttered about being lucky John Constantine wasn't here for some reason, though Barbara had never had to deal with the man. Apparently thankfully considering what both Callum and Zatanna had mentioned over the journey.
Sipping her wine…which was very nice wine, Barbara was glad of the 'magic high heels' as Kara called them, as they were shockingly comfortable and easy to move around in. Considering the amount of walking, way more than expected, that was a great feeling as they passed by a number of other displayed items that unnerved the elf Faralda, and clearly held no great desire for Callum "Not to your interest, hmm?"
"No" he replied, that silly fake walking stick of his moving as he walked. She knew she was being biased there, as he moved naturally with it, the act of needing it being believable and only the fact of Cobblepot's constant umbrellas and canes making her hate it "Chaotic items, and probably cost more than their worth"
"Yes, I would agree" the elven woman offered, nodding "Best left to others"
No further explanation followed as they walked towards the 'Conference Room' as Callum called it, though it had some long, illegible, alien language name etched on it. This area was almost mall-like, with the 'walls' filled with smaller displays and 'shops' maybe over the main dining/trade/exploration area. There weren't elevators…per se anyway, as they stepped into a circle…
Zzttt
…and then were a story higher in elevation upon a different coloured circle after a flash of bright light. Once upon a time she'd have been disturbed by that, but travel had changed that. Along with fact she really, really, needed to learn some magic herself considering how useful it could be. Right now she was dressed for a cocktail party, like the sexy socialite she could pretend to be, but was just as capable as fighting all out as if in her bat-suit. Quinn seemed to barely notice that sexiness with his head reading a data-pad as they walked, and Callum was focused on everything else around them despite walking with her on his arm. It wasn't rude, much, but a little bit of ogling and a touch now and again would be good for act and her own confidence since Kara okay'd it.
"Why are we heading here?"
Callum nodded at the crowd of well dressed…people…in the room ahead in response to her query "Meeting our, well, dealer, or…hmm…legal department. That and general talking to people we are better off getting on reasonably with it. Opinions of their actions and backgrounds aside. So, be nice"
"Ah, yes, those people again" she answered, thinking back to Sigil "I've met worse. Don't worry. Good little doll on your arm Godfather"
Teasing him was funny at least, even if he didn't rile up to it like Dick or Bruce would on mission. Faralda less so, far too much into all the scholarly implications of all this, while Quinn…well, they talked for hours about computers but in situations like this, technical expert was his role. There weren't vast quantities of 'high-tech' around, but there was some, as well as what might be clockwork robots or power armour of some sort, which was to be expect with this weird mix of backwards and terrifyingly advanced. Barbara had had a few nightmares based on that, along with all the crazy horror she'd read in the comics…and porn…about her life. Every heroine was going to descend on Lex like the force of an angry Goddess once she spread word on that one particular Lex mind controls all the heroines game she'd played.
'Then he will die. Painfully' she reminded herself as they approached a…horned woman, with greyish skin and a dress nearly as revealing as Barbara's but failing to be as smoking hot as she was Barbara thought 'And, yep…here's our Lawyer'
"Priestess" Callum greeted, bowing his head a fraction as the man standing behind the 'priestess' watched them with cold, wary, and calculating eyes as the demon woman turned from the man she'd been talking too as she'd beckon them over, his bodyguard, a woman, watching just as warily "A pleasure to me you again"
"Captain!" came back the sickly sweet voice as Barbara took in the dress, along with the likely magic amulet with the shape of a wolf emblazed on it clasped at her neck "It is excellent that you can attend. This is a fellow spelljammer trader-friend of ours…"
She gestured at the man "And a fellow human and fellow outlander such as yourself! Mister McClane meet Captain Outis, Mister McClane, Captain Outis"
Callum shook hands with the man "Pleasure to meet you sir, Outis of Outis Import/Export. Pleasure to make your acquaintance"
"As with you Captain" the man replied, eyes roaming over Barbara a moment, evaluating her threat level rather than in a desirous manner as Barbara leaned against Callum as if she was a dumb bimbo escort. Something clearly not believed as the eyes flicked over her arms and feet as he smiled at Callum "We are here representing a small outlier firm as Lady Esmeralda has said. Marshall, Carter, and Dark at your service. I believe you have brough a number of items of interest to this auction"
"One would hope so" she heard her friend and Captain respond as he rested one hand on his walking cane, smiling in amusement as he took a glass into hand from a passing server. Likely fake she guessed as she sipped her wine while Faralda distracted Quinn at by discussing several of the items in the room "They were acquisitions requiring some investigative work, and general study, compared to more dreary deliveries. Acquiring such items and routes might be considered a…speciality of ourselves"
"Yes, quite the beneficial arrangement between ourselves and our client" the demon woman stated, and boy was she just reeking of some of the 'high-class' mob lawyer attitude of home "Mister McClane might be interested in further conversation, over the meal, during the auction"
'Oh joy' was Barbara's thoughts on the matter, but Callum nodded "An interesting proposition, but…"
The woman held up her hand, hips swaying to show off the slit dress and tail probably "Never fear, it is merely an optional meet and greet, but it is with our more….angelic counterparts…"
"Those of the more…Lawful inclination, rather than the chaotic riff-raff that scatter about" the man stated drinking is brandy fairly primly "We at MCD pride ourselves on our middle ground status. There are a number of opportunities to discuss with those who able to acquire interesting artefacts"
"As Mister McClane says" the woman followed on smoothly, showing only a flicker of annoyance at being interrupted on her face "Our Sigil office was quite impressed with the…resourcefulness of your acquisitions, and place such a recommendation on the table. After seeing your activities over recent weeks…why the presence of yourself and your technical experts, and bodyguard, would be very welcome during the auction. I expect it will be a very interesting sale on the larger items"
Barbara wanted to pout at being so easily picked out, but instead tapped out her view to agree to the deal on the base of his spin. He didn't react, but nodded a moment later "Of course, of course, we would be happy to attend and have further discussions on the subject…"
--
[05.26: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[A. Nice. Pleasant. Meal. With. New. Friends.]
'Great. Just. Fucking. Great. One of the Dimensions on The List. Let's stay the fuck away' a small part of me was informing my mind through the self-hypnosis block for tonight. The Foundation-verse were very much on the 'Avoid' list of dimensions issued to Shrouded Lord's Shards because, like many others on The List, it just wasn't worth the costs and risks. Despite that I brought myself and my team to the feasting/conference area laid out for these 'small time' traders and dealers; - because, in the end, I was on the supply side, and these two on the demand part of the equation.
Faralda had an instant dislike to both our 'lawyers' and the 'dealers', as she picked up on their nature. Human my ass. Even the comment about me being human just hammered it home – I was a half-orc after all. Still she was merely on guard, Barbara was continuing to cosplay mafia doll or whatever on my arm, and Quinn…was doing Quinn did best;- studying technology. But if he saw anything labelled 'Anderson Robotics' I was going to make very clear we weren't buying the damned things I reminded myself as we were joined by a rather dramatically dressed elven woman and her three crewmates. One of which looked like she'd stepped out of comic book nerd stereotype between the massive glasses and general clothing.
Captain Alera Coppertree apparently, though it was only the briefest of introductions as they joined our walk into the arcanely influenced 'zone' for the dinner. Or standing feast perhaps as the tables and overall layout of them were mostly designed to encourage 'networking' as Earth business speak would have put it. Crystal balls on stands showed the auction of various items, along with means to bid upon them using the arcane tablets we'd been provided. Images coming out of the balls in a sort of holographic mist, the current item on display a cursed, or blessed, ring of power depending on your point of view. I glanced at what Barbara was frowning at as I picked up a small plate with snacky-cakes of some sort on it…
'Ah, that would annoy, and why Kara and other heroes are not here' were my immediate thoughts on the matter as a nude human or near human girl posed on a slightly raised pillar with a long description underneath…
"One of our private sales. Alignment restricted, hence the current placement here. Lawful aligned beings only to bid" the Priestess of the Wolf, of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart, answered my unspoken question, painted fingernails flicking in the direction of the silver haired girl, and I nodded faint shimmering tattoos in silver on her pale white skin "Fixed term Familiar Contract, She's a self-sale, with protection and preservation clauses imposed by Contract upon any owner. I would recommend her to you…."
I waved her off politely "I'm afraid not Priestess, I have my own plans for choosing a familiar down the line, and, sold herself into slavery or not, purchasing one…well, it doesn't quite demean the status, but…"
"Ah, a traditionalist I see Captain" the elven woman grinned at me, raising a glass "Just like myself. Why such things cannot be purchased for mere coin!"
"Well, they are a transactional affair usually between Master and Familiar" I admitted with a shrug, and it wasn't like Sean did have a demonic bloodline girl like Maria Constantine as his familiar to say a human familiar was out of the question "But I'd find it rather…poor terms to start off on in such a relationship by purchasing them as some bauble in the market"
"Indeed Captain" Faralda offered primly "It would be…crass"
"One less buyer interested then, but there's been much interest in her already" Priestess-Lawyer Yarsinda murmured sadly, horned head bobbing as her bodyguard watched with soulless eyes. I wasn't quite sure if 'it' was an undead or a golem as the arcane bindings on 'it' were quite good. She then motioned forward to a cluster of people as bidding on the illusions moved to items closer to our own sales "Now, this might be of interest to yourselves"
She waved at…yep, that was an angel, though likely on me and Faralda could see the wings on the man "This is Mister Gist of Mountjoy and Associates, our…counterparts in this endeavour, and others"
"Ah, Miss Yar, I see you have gathered a few more of our VIPs" the very British sounding angel replied, nodding towards us "Captain Coppertree of the Coppertree Concern, Captain Outis of Outis Import/Export, and Mister McClane of MCD, I believe"
"Ah! Always a pleasure to be so well known in good circles!" the elf woman offered cheerfully, while I settled for a quiet nod of my head the same as the man from Marshall, Carter, and Dark "And quite the shindig we've gotten on here"
"Quite" was the one word reply to that cheerfulness along with a nod from the angel, before he gestured at the small crowd and the auction items currently on sale "Now, I'd recommend mingling and purchasing, and freeing purchased slaves…"
"Ah, yes, spend your coin and then give it away!"
"Charity is its own reward Miss Yar" the angel told the demon with an amused tone, but continued on from where he'd been interrupted "But, I do believe there are other matters that might be beneficial to all involved"
I sighed, tapping my cane slightly before I spoke "Hmm…you wish something of us then?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not, but there is a matter that may be of mutual benefit to all involved" the angel replied with a nod, meaning they did want something from us. They always did, especially the most good-aligned ones, save those interests could be in your interest…from a certain point of view "Or, at the very least, a payment for services rendered"
"While the good Captains…" the man from MCD gestured at both of us, and then at the crowd "…and others here I imagine, are in possession of, ah, acquisition and haulage services, our own interests and services are more…"
He waved his hand before sipping from his wine as he trailed off, the tiefling priestess smile "What my colleague means is that it a multi-service endeavour, and you are quite the well-known assessor Mister McClane, and those services would be of use"
"While not committing to anything…" I stated calmly, politely, as I was inclined to say no immediately as our giant green Kryton rock was coming up for sale "…I would like to know more on this subject. What, exactly, is under discussion here?"
"Yeah, bit of surprise" the elf agreed, her crew nodding as she hammered down the wine, then looking at them both seriously "But, what's the job?"
The angel nodded "Why there is world about to suffer an….Event let us say"
Elf Captain frowned "Is this the doomed world rumour on the docks? Because there's always doomed everything rumours there"
The tielfing sighed as both myself and Mister McClane glanced at her "And we are in no way related, associated, or desirous of this outcome, but several Seers are somewhat insistent on the matter. Something, generally agreed to be terrible, is about to happen to this yet-to-be-named world…we will upon agreement name it of course, but secrecy is utmost beforehand…though the locals may see it as a positive. Whatever the matter we require a number of artefacts…"
"…and individuals worthy of saving…" the angel man offered but allowed the tiefling continue after his momentary interjection.
"…and people to be recovered and delivered to an agreed upon crystal sphere. Several items may need to be assessed and identified prior to collection, and the situation on planet may be peaceful, or may be violent…"
"They think they are going to Ascend?" Mister McClane asked as if discussing the weather, looking thoughtfully into his glass "Or some matter of Summoning? God-forging?"
"It is a more technologically inclined civilization, but have recently begun making major use of arcane artefacts acquired in conquests of…"
"Ohh….that's always a Good. Sign." the elf muttered sarcastically "Pay?"
"Treble standards rates for the journey, and an itemised list of payments, per each ship in the expedition rather than as a whole, but that is only upon Contract to a Non-Disclosure Agreement" the angel paused, shrugged unhappily "We'd rather not infighting amongst any of you as we wish to assemble a number of ships owning to the potential size and passenger numbers involved"
"Number of spelljammers?" I asked glancing at Faralda and Barbara "I'd assume the discussion is amongst those present?"
"A fleet, albeit a small one, and your vessels ability for larger haulage is of interest Captain, as well as the warship, just like Captain Coppertree's" the tiefling told me and I nodded "Numbers as yet to be defined, but all will in motion with three ten-days"
"No longer? Very short notice"
The Wolf Priestess sighed unhappily "No Mister McClane, the situation has accelerated owing to journey times to the location and the decrease in time believed available. Whatever is to occur is already in motion, and we merely wish to protect our investments…"
"And innocents"
"…and certain individuals as Mister Gist clarifies"
I nodded "And we're in port and recommended. Okay. Let's hear a more detailed sales pitch before I even think of discussing this with my crews…"
--
[05.27: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Mages Party! Or, everyone stands around and competes for artefacts…]
Faralda was both fascinated and horrified by this place…or at least the denizens, as the setting was so disturbingly normal…
Yet filled with Mer and Men, and beings pretending to be either, beings that were far too close to daedra, or even worse, to her liking. Scholar Mallory was, sadly, indifferent to such things, but that was to be expected, and at the very least she allowed the captain to handle dealing with the creatures. Mostly. She offered her advice where necessary, and largely settled for watching and learning as there was a great deal that would go into any future treatise on the Planes beyond even those of the Daedra. If it ever got published of course. Maintaining this secret…
Difficult was a joke in comparison to such in the face of the two packs of fools in Cyrodill, or in the face of the lunatics of the Summerset Isles. But there was far too much…potential, far too many dangers they *needed* to be aware of, to not take the risk. For this could balance the scales for the College, to grant it true independence, and perhaps restore trust amongst the commonfolk of Winterhold hold itself given time. At least that was how Mirabelle and the Archmage saw the matter, and Faralda had learned many things in that time.
Even if much of it terrified her as she sipped her wine, watching a near Altmer looking Mer bidding on a dozen…warriors?...that were a cross of Man and Machine, minds gone. Dwemer-like golems mixed with Draugr perhaps?
No matter what they were, they were disturbing even on the illusionary mirrors showing their sale, just as looking at a number of the items on sale had been. Somehow this place felt as if answering a question that'd never been asked;- what would Zenithar's Plane look like if He was a Daedra?
'Apparently a disturbing parody of a nobles feast interposed upon a market' was the answer to that in her mind as she considered the proposal laid by these…creatures…to young Callum. As part-Captain of the Thunderchild 'spelljammer' she could see the benefits to all parties involved on the two ships, even if Callum seemed as cagey as ever on the offer it looked to her. Risky was being here at all after all, and the crew, at least the warriors she was working with on the Thunderchild, needed the experience for when darker times came in the future. Not the most pleasant of thoughts, but the monsters lurking out there that they'd already encountered…best to blood their fighters now, rather than later.
"You aren't very enthusiastic about the subject?"
Callum nodded as they stepped away to a serving girl holding a tray, taking full glasses of alcohol into hand and empty ones back in their place "I'm debating it, and we can discuss in greater detail upon our return. I'm guessing you are in favour?"
She nodded "Indeed. Experience, as part of a convoy, seeing the power of other vessels…these are all needed, and the trade discussed is also needed. Reputation must be built. This is what must be done to do it"
"I think she's right Callum" the scantily clad, but no less dangerous, 'Batgirl' Barbara agreed softly, their eyes on the bidding of their particular item "This…well, a rescue mission and picking up some historical artifacts is likely on the less terrible scale of things. Pay considering. Journey back considering"
"You just want to play hero" he chuckled back, sighed as the price…well, it was certainly a very, very, large amount of coin and jewels Faralda thought. Magic items too on one of the other bids, and within the 'not cursed' specifications they'd taken great care to lay out in exchange "It's going well, but I didn't think…"
"The barter?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Not to the extent we're seeing, but I won't complain if we get things we'd like" he answered drinking and glancing around the room "And in that regards…items of interest for your organisation?"
"Nothing that hasn't already been acquired. So far" she replied, nodding to Mallory "And you?"
"Two items here might be potentially useful…within limits"
Faralda nodded, not really grasping the mechanics of such devices, and returning to studying the auction and the groups floating around in this vast area. Mingling, as it was framed, was not something she was overly inclined to do in such a crowd as this was, instead focusing on the sales, such as the Great Fire Stone selling to Fire…Person-Thing. A Giant perhaps?. Though the payment of coins, gemstones, magical books and artefacts clearly had made them all very, very, rich even before the Big Green Rock came up for sale…
--
{Several hours later, back in the docks…}
Gloria Amelia Fredrickson, the White Sorceress of the Youth Justice Alliance, starred at the staff inside the glass case, watching to reach through it to grab the item and inspect it up close. She knew she shouldn't be pressing in so closely, but everyone was in a good mood, and Amelia, because Gloria felt weird as that was Mom's name. Around her the other mages were doing the same anyway, most of the crew from the Thunderchild on the Fortune's Chance as crates of alcohol were broken open along with the food stores despite the 'late' hour.
Of course, there wasn't a 'late' really, just different shifts, but that was upended right now outside a few of the security apparently as the last of the loading from the after-auction took place. Tons of strange metals and rocks in crates, magic items, and even crates full of gold and electrum coins, had been loaded unto the bays of the ship…like here, where was 'studying' the 'Staff of the Magi' inside the security field. But all the mages amongst them were drifting from item to item after all and…
"Weryl dear" the voice of Chao the chef stated from nearby "Pull silly Amelia away! Time to party!"
"Ahh… nooooo!" she found herself whining as the boy came over and awkwardly gestured at her. The two of them the usual amusing contrast;- she with her dark black skin and white robes, and he with his light white skin and black robes "Come'on! It's awesome! We have to study and…"
"No!"
…followed by Amelia yelping in surprise as suddenly the Asian girl was beside her, her arms going under the taller Amelia and somehow, like always, overpowered her. Or at least moved her as Amelia stumbled and was lifted over Chao's shoulder like a sack of potatoes before she could react "Come Amelia-chan! To party time!"
"Maybe…ah, you should put her down?" she heard Weryl complain or awkwardly demand as she kicked her feet and banged the iron lump that was the ship's young cook uselessly on the back. That only seemed to amuse Chao, as Amelia got more and more mortified as others laughed at the sight as she was carried out of the room by a bemused cook-ninja. Even the guards laughed as she saw the various decks being secured, or at least heard it happening as they headed into the canteen where there was plenty of noise.
People were getting drunk already she realised, music playing as Chao, somehow, had gotten food out already within only a short notice, even if it was simple things like plates of sandwiches and the like. Only then was Amelia 'deposited' into a waiting couch, covering her face and trying to pretend she hadn't just been carried into the area past dozens of people…
"She got you too?" Courtney, Stargirl, asked her suddenly, walking over with a bottle in hand, waving at the black clad boy standing beside Amelia, panting "Hey Weryl! You look tired?"
"Chao...too…fast…"
"Weryl-senpai needs more training" the girl Amelia was glaring at hatefully grinned back, wrapping arms around her near-boyfriend, smacking his hips "Chao is right, yes?"
"Nobody can keep up with you Chao" Courtney stated blankly "I bet you could sneak-run up on the Flash if you wanted to! So, leave Weryl alone"
….and that was a bad move Amelia knew as a pouting Chao marched over to Courtney, engulfing the whine and struggling girl in a hug "Ah! Is Stargirl-chan lonely for Little Chao…"
"Someone's in a good mood" Weryl offered, falling unto the couch with a huff "Oh, wait, we're having a sudden party apparently?"
"I…" was all Amelia managed to mutter before a bottle of beer was shoved into her hand, people talking loudly and more and more people coming in. This was a 'crew meeting' apparently, about making a new voyage, as well as a celebration of the recent auction. The orcs were from security were here as well, along with the crazy goblins, and Amelia huffed and relaxed despite wanting to study artefacts and learn more. As everyone, well most everyone, in the crew was here, and the captain clambered up unto a table and called out for silence, and started to talk about bonuses, and then about other work…
--
[05.28: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Treasure is in the eye of the beholder…]
--
[Trader's Journal: Day 1461]
[Current Dimension]
Spelljammer territory – Rock of Bral
[Current Location]
Fortune's Chance
[Trading Report]
Well. We're rich now. For now, anyway. It's a matter of how you count wealth in this business after all because gold is worthless in many places, while it's worth a fortune in others. For us its knowledge and artefacts can count as more valuable, and we now have lots of both right now. Oh, we'll have to divide it up, but it's there in both goods and money.
Both the Comet and the giant Krypton rock have sold, along with several minor items. So, let's recap payments for said sales as it's a varied number of things in a barter sales exchange. What the values are at is local market rates, so can't really complain there even if that value will vary wildly. One of the two buyers (adventurers, fucking adventurers) had the most eclectic bid value ever basically.
185 x Arcane Platinum Trade Bars (which is like a 1000GP per bar really)
86 x High-grade Diamonds (ritual standard)
17 x Crates of Diamond Dust (ritual standard)
2 x Crates of Blood Ruby Dust (enchanted)
5 x Crates of Bone Dust (enchanted)
12,636 x Netherese Gold Coins (someone found an old treasure trove it seems) in multiple crates
5478 x Electrum Coins (Elven mark)
8332 x Gold Coins from somewhere called the Empire of Voldroon
62 x Barrels of Dragonfire Brandy
1 x Staff of the Magi
1 x Grimoire of Alchemy
1 x Book of the Planes (it's Netherese. I can tell. Someone *did* find something)
7 x Spellbooks (varying classifications)
22 x Scrolls (varying spells above '3rd Level' as it were)
6 x Suits of Power Armour (old. Tech based. Unknown creator civilization)
1 x Book on Clockwork Golem Creation
6 x Enchanted Bows (varying classifications)
4 x Crates (of 24 Bottles each) of Warlock's Wasted Patron (Magical Booze. Gives you a Mage Hand spell for a whole day. Because drunk people with Mage Hand is always *'un')
3 x Crates of Angel Tea (Magical Herbal Tea)
11 x Rings (varying magical effects. Non-cursed)
1 x Staff of Healing/Life (it's variable what the symbols mean)
2 x Eyeglasses of True Seeing
6 x Arcane Robes (varying strength and attributes)
7 x Crates (of 24 bottles each) of Alchemical Fire. Magic Grenades. Yay.
47 x Bottles of Shadow Brew
14 x Bottles of Potion of Health
23 x Bottles of Potion of Housecat Control. (Why? Serious Why?)
19 x Bottles of Potion of Psionic Boosting (Silver colour)
Balance of payment went to clearing our remaining balance with the shipwrights. We are now fully clear and paid up to date.
Also, we've agreed to take on a job, so we're taking on extra food and other supplies. So that's another portion of the sale, albeit a small part.
[Diary Entry]
So .We're rich. And hangover to be honest, as well as loitering around the docks as we've all decided to go for this Arcane job that I can't even write about. Geas Contacts are 'fun' as always. But, yes, we're doing a rescue and recovery to a world I can't talk about, not that I recognise it anyway, with people we've agreed not to attack or backstab. Yes, hastily assembled fleet for the win. Also staying in port for days longer with the auction threatens to make us all purposeless.
That would be bad. Because we've partied and relaxed for two days, and that could easily continue. Which is a no, so me and Kara had focused on ensuring both ships are ready for departure. Even if they are both already for action right now. Schedules, purpose, focus, are all things the crew need, as well as me. We'll do training, analysis on the purchases to recheck and reconfirm items are fully safe, and all the other fun stuff to ensure we are mentally prepared to leave. Gods know I need it as we've done nothing for these days but party and do fuck all, while many, many, things need to be done. Or could be done, like work on the Green Lantern Ring project of mine. That'll take a lot of time to decide how to rework it after all.
Same with Kara, lazing around in bed and around the ship is fun…for a bit. Then we're all grumpy. Especially when Barbara's around and badly hungover too. Or as I had to put up to listening to the two drunken idiots singing their hearts out. Or drunken sleepover and helpful comments. Yes. Bat-wisdom, just what's needed, yesserie as they both conspire against me. That and Drunken Zee is always like babysitting the teenage Zee I remember when she got drunk. Age did not bring wisdom there, and the less said of drunken Quinn and several of our so-called scientists.
Then there's the dragon, and the firebenders, and the gods-damned goblin mercenary wet t-shirt competition that led into the goblin inspired food fight when comments were made. Apparently. I wasn't there and Chao resolved it swiftly. No one messes up her kitchen apparently. But, yes, a sign of letting every enjoy revelries about newfound wealth is no great idea. So, crew meetings later today and we'll kick things back off tomorrow with a more focused schedule. Study meets too. All the usual along with getting a handle on organising food stores and ensuring we've plenty of comfortable beds for our future passengers and the items we're collecting.
That I can't speak about, so it's hard to explain and plan out, but 'big cultural artefacts and religious things with potential magic' does give a baseline on security needs. We're heavy good haulage basically. Considering our holds are larger than your average spelljammer I can understand that, and we've been promised a hefty fee per person as these are VIPs. Or political prisoners. I'm not sure, probably both. I'm personally unhappy with this plan, but everyone else is on board for it, and I do actually agree this one of the better options. Hilariously because the two Elven Imperial Fleet Man-o-wars are officially helping us as escorts, along with a Bralian warship.
Concerning, but welcome as well. We're not likely to have an armed, official, escort. Though, a Priest of the Shrouded Lord escorted by Elven warships who are Geas bound to protect them. Hilarious. And never ever to be spoken of. Best not to annoy folks with such accusations.
Again, this is good and bad and that's why I want to get us back to effectiveness and set up procedures to handle any trouble. Or idiots trying to seize our ship or something as some scheme. Traps and evil folks, and I can't exactly trust without concern of any sort of force out here. All have their own agendas and interests, and this place is infested with pirates. Several of whom are no playing legit traders with this convoy, just like we're not playing smuggler now. At least our crews, Thunderchild in particular, gets training with magical vessels, and that's what our allies and sponsors want – along with getting an escort back to a world where we can move back towards Earth more safely. Not through that messed up non-dimension if I can avoid it.
Right now I'm going to head off and talk to Quinn, the Mechanist, and Chief Engineer Sanchez about their plans to refit the Humvees now they've got automation systems up. They just want to play around with all the new systems basically. Slán for now.
--
[05.29: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Heave Ho, onwards we go….]
"Drives online. Engines commencing burn…now"
I stood on the bridge, watching as the Fortune's Chance disconnected from the docks, reversing out as Jonathan called out instructions as we tried to careful manoeuvre back into realmspace proper. The Thunderchild was already waiting, along with a dozen other spelljammers of various types;- from two more technological base looking vessels, to the more common 'galleon' build or human Hammerhead. Though amidst them were the two gleaming Elven Man-o-wars, Shy Skydancer and Forest's Gleam and the late eighteenth century warship look of the Bralian Rock Fist.
Quite the eclectic little armada really, and another half-dozen odd still to launch off from the berths in port like a herd of cats being directed by the uppity elf woman in charge of the whole affair. Or at least playing glorified guard dog for our little party of scallywags and paid hauliers. Not much had changed on the bridge, it still having the cruise ship bridge look despite the addition of the spelljammer helm…but it made a difference, a big one at that. Even using only minimal magic to assist the operations our turning and manoeuvre in aetheric space no longer felt like hasty fumbling or hard corrections to ensure a steady course.
"Minor deviations on the planned energy outlay" Quinn said to me as Kara as we watched, using the refitted 'omni-tool' he'd reworked from that space dimension the blue stripper aliens "I think I'll need to borrow you and Zatanna, maybe Amelia too, later and look it up. I think it's the magic disturbing some subsystems to cause a higher energy drain"
I glanced at Kara who was studying the same readings as Quinn showed her, and after a moment she nodded to me "He's right, it's nothing major but it's almost twelve percent above what we expected it to be. Looks like systems might be too sensitive and responsive…see, there, Quinn?"
"Yes…it's reacting to the thrusters"
I frowned, hands behind my back as the ship began to turn in space, thrusters burning to 'spin' us slowly around in space to get inti position "It isn't going to be a problem?"
"Over the long run maybe…" Kara clarified "Maybe. It's only been a few minutes but it's persisting at a higher performance, and energy draw, rate. If it continues it'll shave time off our longer travel times that you wanted, basically, New systems Callum. To be expected"
"Yeah, I suppose so. Thunder Child?"
"No performance issues so far" Quinn replied to my question, the warship of the League of Aquitaine, or at least future warship, hovering in the darkness of space along with other vessels "But their sailing systems, to put it crudely, are inferior to what we've got, so it's much more straightforward for them. Since they aren't planning on travelling as much as we are, and are relying almost entirely on the their technology right now….unlike us"
I gave an amused snort at that, both tech geniuses preferring their technology over fancy magic, but that argument wasn't going to get anywhere with me. Faralda over on Thunderchild didn't have the same knowledge base to use the systems like I did, or Zatanna was at, as her studies were much more focused than ours into what they called the Destruction School. She was learning, as were others, but the Thunder Child was intended as a warship that 'regular' humans could use without mages if needed and for defending Earth(s) from the Kromagg threat.
"Approaching fleet…we're getting signals from Forest's Gleam…"
"Followed the good Commodore's directions Jonathan" I told him, along with the rest of the bridge crew "Let's keep the grumpy elven lady happy for now at least. I'm sure we'll annoy them later on after all"
"Ai-Ai Kaptain" the slightly joking response as he and the others signalled back with lights to match their arcane flag signals. We *could* have talked by magical links, either fancy telepathy, or more commonly via linking the crystals balls or mirrors for face to face…but, well, elves. Arrogant pricks at the best of times, and this was all very par for the course…I think at least. My 'memories' of such things were hazy, academic, and still hundreds of years out of date. Inconsistencies were already apparent in Bral after all, and I couldn't afford to ask questions due to the enmity between certain aspects of the Elven Pantheon (and Imperial Fleet) and the God I served. That's what happens in an Orc vs Elf war when you served the Combat Pragmatist Deity…
"It's a weird looking fleet, isn't it?" Kara murmured to me "Still hard to get used to"
I shrugged "Yeah, I can agree. Just remember a number of those wooden ships flying in space out gun us, even we should be able to outrun them now. Now, let's get into position in the fleet and then hurry up and wait…"
--
{Many hours later…}
"So, Burt, Deborah…" I asked the two 'retired' heroes as Barbara spoke quietly to Azula behind me "…you're okay with taking control of this?"
Burt Jameson, the former 'Kid Raven' before the scumbag villains of his dimension did their reality warp and ruined all their lives nodded tablet in hand "S'tella's much better of late, and we…"
He glanced at Deborah, who nodded "Well, we both agree it'd be good to step up our workload. Everyone else is busy with upgrades, and kitting out the extra passenger space still has to be done, and it'll need to be organised when we get there"
I nodded, glancing at Deborah, who'd mellowed out a great deal from the half-demon's many years of reality warped nunnery time. The fact she was pregnant apparently though…
"And you're okay with Debs? And continuing the studies, I don't want to take that away from you, considering…"
She smiled, hand on her fiancée's shoulder "Assistant role mostly for me, and occasionally throwing some magic around. I'm not a child Callum, we've held back because of our issues…and this is needed. Zyanya and Ellie are looking to help as well, and this needs to be done. I've been told you've been complaining about it in port"
I glanced back at Barbara, shaking my head, and then back at the two "Okay. I'll put the two of you over the passenger decks and organising the bedding and any storage and security needed, and Ellen and Zyanya to help out. Can you have a draft schedule done up by 09:00 tomorrow?"
Burt nodded "We've already got a draft one prepared, we'll reconfirm with a few of the crew, but I'll have it over to you in a few hours"
"Okay, fair dues" I told them with a smile, nodding "Helps take the pressure off me to organise it. Just be aware that some of them might be non-human…well, they're near humans, but there could be a number of special cases amongst the ones we'll be collecting. It's a bit too disorganised for my liking, but they should all be relative humanoid sized and shaped"
"But there might be exceptions. Of course" Deborah replied "Or a security risk"
"Well, that's for Nathan to handle…" I replied pointing out Colonel Anderson was responsible for the security plan when we arrived "…so he'll get a draft of the schedule, and then talk to you about his needs, or what magic he'll need from you or me, or whoever"
"That's acceptable Captain, we'll got start confirming things now and get back you"
"Excellent, thanks for the good work" I replied to his dimension's version of Robin, or their Batman with his counterpart, if The Fraternity hadn't won, then turned back towards my Executive Officer and Apprentice as they head off to do their thing. Barbara gave an amused look, arms folded across her chest. She liked Burt, probably because it felt like trying to save Robin if his life had gone wrong, even if Burt had largely avoided any serious responsibility till now. Just like Debbie, though she'd thrown herself into arcane studies till now, but had avoided leaving the ship much during our time on the Rock of Bral. This might hopefully get them all to open up a bit.
"See, told you"
I smiled "Yes, you did Barbara, and it's a big help. Are you happy with preparations so far?"
"Food, repairs, beds, all that? Yes. Bored goblins and orcs less so, but breaking the training area regularly is distracting them" she told me "Are you content with you see more importantly, or is it just the fact we're part of a fleet?"
"Eh, fleet maybe, and probably too eager to get to studying the purchases in more depth. Just want everything nice and organised before we do" I admitted "Some of those artefacts will take some time to safely start attuning, let alone use"
"If you say so Boss, I think we should do Engineering next and…"
--
[05.30: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Fecking gnomes, they ruin everything!]
--
[Trader's Journal: Day 1472]
[Current Dimension]
Spelljammer - Phlogiston
[Current Location]
Phlogiston. Travelling.
[Trading Report]
None. Travelling in the Phlogiston.
[Diary Entry]
We're a week at sea and now that damned elf egomaniac finally briefed us. Burt's going to be annoyed since he'll have to rearrange the plans for down below. Humanoid means human sized and shaped in general parlance of the realms, even I know that, and we've a half dozen grumpy captains that agree with me on this little detail change. Oh, it's all within the contract, but gnomes are not people sized, and thank the Boss we don't have any kobolds as part of the crew or fleet. Or not human people sized I mean, and that means some of the rooms have to be done up gnome/halfling/goblin sized as proven by our resident team of goblin idiots/commandos.
Also, I hate these people already and I haven't even met them yet. Yeah, sure, they'd aren't actually gnomes, but have to be some sort of sub-species with the technology favouring, and now reckless and moronic use of magic apparently. That and when a culture goes atheist, starts using magic, and then changes their species name, and gender names, and place names, that have some stupid meanings about virtue or purity behind them. Oh, and the purges start, because, yeah, that's not tempting fate. Good to know the portents of doom have actual things supporting Seer visions. Or why the Boss sent me a nice, friendly, 'do the job' vision before we left the crystal sphere.
Of course, they are being described by elves, who are not the best judge of anyone not them, and an 'honest trader' that doesn't like them very much because they ruined his trade there. So, try and be open minded about the short tinkering lunatics calling the Honayastii now, because something-something virtue. Purple fucking gnomes. Sorry 'lilac' coloured gnomes. After being corrected by Commodore Snooty Britches I'd best remember that, yes?
Misbegotten Imperial Elven Fleet and their arrogant bossiness.
Whatever, it's their nature, we've a job, I've a divine vision-bullshit, and now we've goddamned atheist fecking magic gnomes ahead of us. Smug elves here, smug gnomes ahead, and bored goddamned goblins and orcs in the hold that I have to keep hidden. Yes. It's fun times. Drills and practice, and wrecking our bloody training areas, is keeping them distracted at least, and it's good for security training, I guess. That and Tirdelk is easier to divert to engineering related projects, such as ensuring the Humvees we took over from Thunderchild are upgraded since they've got ours. Quinn's happy about that bit at least, and they all want to try get us to turn trade bars into tech from the place we're headed since they are supposedly advanced but back-walking developmentally.
Maybe I'm just in a bad mood because they took me away from study time with out purchases, along with diving them up. I'm getting the staff of the magi. Zatanna's already got a staff of the planes from Sigil, and joint study of the various literature suits there. Of course, attuning to a Staff of the Magi takes quite some time and effort, so that's for the future, and I want to make sure there's no side-effects or issues with the item before starting the process. After all the other things I mean to do as Kara says. She's right, because running a spelljammer is a busy business as me, her, and Quinn have found.
In that vein we're, slowly, starting to get a handle on the upgrades made by the shipwrights, as well as our own tweaks to it. Necessary tweaks as we've blown out a number of computers in one of the aft sections because of cosmic rays. Well, more arcane energy rays disrupting unshielded devices, at a very minor level, but even minor errors can mess up our more 'earth-modern' computers by turning a one to a zero, or visa-versa. Monitor power generation is really impressive, and we've not being making full use of it, but now we can – and that's actually disrupting us a wee bit. I'm sure The Monitor will super happy to hear that.
Anyway, I need to sleep. Exhausted after so much stupid been shouted at me by stupid damned elves.
--
[Trader's Journal: Day 1481]
[Current Dimension]
Spelljammer - Phlogiston
[Current Location]
Phlogiston.
[Trading Report]
Bizarrely – we sold Air. Or, to be more exact, a breathable oxygen mix, to several of the spelljammers to allow them continue travelling without docking at a base or entering a Crystal Sphere. Trade was for a mixture of trade goods including 11 Arcane Platinum Trading Bars and a crate of wine. That shaves off nearly a ten-day off the journey here, and then another down the line as the ships down have to do planetary turnover within a Crystal Sphere. Us another vessel run by a robot, that looks like an evil C3PO and R2D2 for whatever reason and their robots and a slave girl. See? Thinking ahead for some of us!
[Diary Entry]
Sailing in the fog, sailing in the fog, sailing in the damned colourful magical fog. I jest, but it's a constant of the last twenty odd days. Keeping everyone focused on it is hard enough on shifts, and we must, as dangers lurk out there and are only discouraged by ship numbers. BUT. And it's a big one, there are bigger things that can get attracted to large groups rarely, so best to be ever watchful even with the help of the computer systems. The big help is that our numbers and variance in ship designs has allowed longer times out to sea so to speak, us and two other ships acting as 'tankers' of sorts to increase range for standard spelljammers. Ie, ensuring air supply on the 'lesser' galleons as the elves have their trees and magic to cheat.
Sadly, we're another week away from our destination at best speed, and that's with us taking the shortcut due to increased staying out in the phlogiston. Basically, we're cutting across the deep sea rather than hugging the coasts in the Elven tradition. The other ships might be more manoeuvrable and swifter, but we do have better capacity to last in 'deep water' at least in our vessel, even if Thunderchild does need our help from time to time over recent days. We the larger 'tubs', are in the centre of the formation, so there's that I guess, but chatter has been fair modest with us mainly talking to the Rock Fist and Coppertree ships; - mostly course corrections, and general warnings of upcoming hazards.
Kara's having a great time at least, playing scientist and engineer with the others as they refit the vehicles and prepare the storage bays for the statues and such we're to collect along with passengers. Cultural artefacts, which means religious artefacts I suspect as the indicators are cultural purge time over there. This collection feels like it was arranged before all this talk of Seers and Doom and such and such, The concerning part, to me, is that I'm having feelings of foreboding on the whole thing, and I'm not sure if it's just me being paranoid or overtired. Gonna go to bed early tonight and me and Kara are off shift tomorrow, so we'll sleep in and relax a bit there.
Beyond all that, our prisoner-worker Jennifer is fairly calm, and we've got a solid training regime in place, and my own work with Azula has been fairly beneficial for both of us, I think. There's been a lot to get organised, and lots we wanted to get done, and work gives her a focus, even though her plans to bring about World Peace on her world are odd to say the least. But, hey, I think we're going to need some big diplomatic conference at some stage as her and brother and her uncle solidly grasp how bad things could get, and want defences for their world. Or trade. Or lots of things as the crew are from many, many, places and they all talk to each other, along with the fact we're a quasi-training for Earth's (various earths) military forces.
It'll be on my mind after we get this job done, when we head back in coming weeks or months – once we've gotten over our current workload anyway. I'm inclined to set down somewhere for a few weeks, an empty or small world, do our training and work, and then head back, but I doubt the crew'd like that. Thunderchild is ready, and we committed to returning with it as soon as we could once systems were ready. This voyage will shake out any such issues, so, yeah after this it'll be a return journey.
Anywho, time for me to finish my studies for the day and get some quality time with my wonderful girl.
--
[05.31: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Prison Time]
Jennifer Morgan lay on the pallet bunk that served as her bed, tired, but awake again as another 'day' dawned in her sailing ship prison. Oh, there was no 'day' or 'night' that was easily identified in the prison cell beyond what she was granted by the crew of the ship, which in this case was the lights on the ceiling flicking on in four thin bars. Not enough to illuminate the room fully, more a 'pre-dawn gloom' as Jennifer thought of it, along with a ping of an alert to indicate her day was soon to begin. Or what could be called a day for her now as she groaned and then sat up on the bed, rubbing her face tiredly before sighing.
She had a 'little while' to herself…but that wasn't any great thing as thinking on her situation and, worse, what had gotten her here, wasn't something Jennifer liked dwelling on. Instead, she stood up, forcing herself to stride over to the small shower stall without slouching this time, to try show some measure of pride to the mostly naked woman in the mirror. To ignore the arcane and technological collar on her neck and shackles on ankles and wrists that rendered her powerless, and easily punished…by her own Binding Oath. The price of her foolishness and inability to fucking think…
Jennifer let out a shuddering breath that wasn't a sob, no it wasn't!...and turned on the water, bracing hands against the mirror and closing her eyes. Ignoring the freezing touch on her shaved head. That, more than anything, had hurt the most somehow, the loss of her hair. That nothing had been as she had imagined it would be…that she was alone and away from what had become her home – a home she'd made worse by her actions and filled her nightmares. A home whose cultural mores she had accepted and indulged in far more than she'd ever realised Jennifer had discovered in her new life.
Something apparent as ever as she stepped out of the shower and dried herself, starring at the frumpy, dull, looking clothing for the day. Jennifer was proud of her body. Proud of showing it off…and in Skartaris that was, mostly, the norm for women and girls, especially ones with strength to do so. Like Jennifer Morgan. The Warlord's Daughter. The Sorceress of Skartaris. Now…now she only had herself to care, with her normal, back in the time before here, sleeping in the nude an act of defiance in her mind as they made her dress like…
This.
In a dull formless…thing of dull grey and white trim, with underwear…worse, underwear that made her feel like a goddess-damned lonely librarian or dull office drone!
It was completely at odds with she'd expected. Worse somehow. Deimos had brainwashed her, and punished her with whip and magic as well, during that enslavement, and she'd been mentally prepared for that. The one she'd harmed and offended, broken Oath with, was orc blooded, and a powerful sorcerer…Jennifer had expected to serve, chained at the foot of his throne and dragged to his bed to slake his orcish lusts. That was how it would have been in Skartaris, and she'd have survived such more easily somehow, she'd recognised now as Jennifer had become too Skartarii to not expect it. The whip, the pillow, and magic – these held no fear to Jennifer Morgan, Sorceress and Warlord's Daughter, as she had been confident she could earn herself a place as a concubine, even as an orc sorcerer's trophy. With a body like hers? With a mind like hers?
'Yeah. That went *so* well' she thought bitterly clothes now on as gazed into the hardened mirror. Punching and kicking it was like hitting a steel wall she'd found those first days, most surfaces smooth and not edged, though at least not feeling like a padded wall like everything else. The woman looking back didn't look like she could seduce a drunken warrior let alone a Warlord or his heroic non-human lover. Both that Zara and the sorceress, Zatanna, had quickly disabused Jennifer of *those* notions, along with any avenues of female solidarity. That she had at least expected, Skartarii women would have reacted just the same way for dominance in the hierarchy; Jennifer just hated it *now* because she wasn't even at the bottom of that totem pole here!
"Good Moring Miss Morgan!"
…and here was her other torment in the shape of a 'Mister Handy' named Alfred Junior by the two bossier girls, Kara and Barbara, and Jennifer's, at times, personal minder and jailer "Ready for another day of service?"
"Yes Sir!" she replied immediately, standing at attention, hating herself for the response, as well as the feelings of relief bubbling up at getting out of her cage for a while. The only bright side was she didn't get some sort of leash like it would have been in an orc or goblin place, but she kept her head down and tried to avoid looking at anyone as she was escorted up to the work area. Making beds, small beds weirdly enough…maybe for goblins?...along with cleaning and washing were her roles for the day, and Jennifer did try hard at the task despite still not being used to such work, or not being able to use her magic like she had been.
Proving herself useful, or at the very least obedient and submissive, might get her allowed to grow her hair back firstly, and maybe even allowed into direct service with half-orc Captain Callum. There were skilled mages aboard the ship, so much arcane knowledge and…and…
Jennifer knew she'd been so utterly wrong now. So utterly, stupidly, wrong in her understanding of things, and now in the desperate straights of these people judging her people by her actions. If the Fortune's Chance and all their allies continued to side with the Red Orc Clans, which seemed certain with Red Orc Warriors aboard and being trained as soldiers, then in a generation or two Skartaris would be there. The very culture of her new home would work that way as they followed strength, and the Free Peoples if not facing a direct military threat wouldn't unite to oppose them if the orcs were held to the City. If they got civilized, even a little…
She pushed those thoughts to the side as she worked as best she could, obediently following directions of the robot, or of the two people, Burt and Debbie, who were in charge of this work. Debbie was a fellow sorceress, but carrying demonic blood clearly, and Jennifer feared for such a creature working to corrupt the more clearly good-natured members of the crew. Which, hellishly, included the half-orc Captain Sorcerer Callum who had no trust in Jennifer Morgan, let alone any reason too trust in her either. Nor did his fellow leaders, like Kara, or the distant scientist Mister Mallory…and she clearly had a massive hill to climb to try get close to the Captain Sorcerer and find some way to convince him, them, of her willingness to serve. Anything to convince them to spare her home and elevate her to something other than lowliest of drudge…maybe someday back into her customary clothing.
Suddenly she shivered, a faint feeling of…dread?...washing over her…
And then it was gone, and she returned to her work, doing the repetitive task by rote now after several days…weeks?...of doing so. It was a compulsion after all, in that her Binding Oath compelled her to obey unless she wanted to exhaust herself trying to resist it, and even if it wasn't…Jennifer really did want to try proving she could do it. Even if it was monotonous and dull, only interspersed by a dull, lonely, meal with only the handful of robots playing at wardens for her. Everyone was busy as they arrived at whatever destination was now planned, and she only hoped she didn't have to get locked up again for extended periods this time around as work was done on the ship.
Unfortunately, neither Kara or Zatanna came today, merely the man Burt and her robot handler, before Jennifer was once again returned to her cell and she could shed her horrible frumpiness and sit on her bed. The only luxury was a book, something she had the privilege of at least, and she indulged in it now as she read a 'primer on magic' as it were. Something she'd had to almost beg for from the Captain and Zatanna, and was more theory than anything else…but at least it was study of some sort, and the fact she'd earned pencils and paper to write on made it feel better. Like she could learn something, however minor, despite the circumstances of her life.
Only till the lights blinked in warning and she placed them carefully into place and went to bed, all for the cycle to repeat the next 'morning'. Sleeping, showering, dressing, and then following the Mister Handy to start her work for the day again. This though seemed to be the last day of it she realised, with crew members of the ship being around on her route, talking to each other or heading off to a task, and Jennifer dreaded she might be sent back into isolation for days again. Thankfully though she seemed to have gotten an elevation in status…of sorts, as she was escorted to the cabin of the two Captains to begin cleaning and making the bed under the machine's watchful eyes.
'And probably Captain Callum's' she thought working away to specific directions. The room….sang of magic, of carefully placed wards and spells that interacted with her own Geas. Her own desperate misery at not being able to use her own magic for weeks on end. But there was nothing to be done about it, and when she was ordered to kneel in the corner she did so without problem, and waited there even as 'Alfred' retreat from the room. Waited…for what felt like ages till the door opened up and the two figures entered, talking amongst themselves.
"…don't like it's feeling honestly. We're in a dimensional bubble, and even we can felt it"
"Well, I'm not dealing with these…little monsters Callum. They murdered millions of their…"
"I know. I know. I'll handle it, and Quinn'll be on monitor duty, and we can't let them near our tech if they're just appointing a 'classless society' type of engineer…" he paused and Jennifer fidgeted nervously, hating herself for being intimidated by the mere presence of the duo "Oh, I forgot about this interview"
"I did tell you"
"I know, I know, just distracted" the Captain Sorcerer murmured standing over Jennifer arms folded across his chest "Right. You've behaved so far, and bad time as this is…we promised, so let's see if you're able to be trusted with some more liberties, or prove valuable to work as assistant to myself and Azula, Zatanna too if she wants it"
--
[05.32: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Whispers in the Void. Nightmares in your Mind. The End Times at your Gate…]
"Another abandoned orbital miner?" I murmured, mostly to myself, hand on my chin as we the fifth planet and headed towards the fourth in line "Hmmm"
"The ones currently in operation…don't look in the best condition" Quinn said to me as we stood in the bridge, flanked by Azula as Kara took charge of our prisoner-maid-personal servant "If I had to guess….poor maintenance maybe? That last one looked like system failures. There were still bodies. Even the ships don't look the best if you ignore the shiny silver paintjobs and magic symbols"
I nodded as scans were brought up. The ships here were generations ahead of Earth, the League of Aquitaine Earths and Alta California Earth anyway, yet had a very…haggard sensor read on them beneath what had to be slapped on paintjob. And glamour, that was definitely a glamour on them too, along with maybe reinforcement spells on the hull… it was all a bit annoying. Advanced, but nothing looked new when you ignored the visuals themselves "I'm very much inclined to agree. I can see why the Elves aren't in the least bit bothered by their posturing. They were a threat, maybe…"
"About decade ago?"
"Probably" I agreed frowning at yet more annoying 'music' playing across the system babbling on about virtue, and evil tyrants everywhere, along with the suffering of…vagueness really. The odd part was that it was so fucking monotonous and dull at that, instead of rousing or simply annoying gnome sounds…there was a blandness there, an unspeakable drudgery. Also magic. Really shitty magic, spell-song at its absolute worse and incompetent that grated whenever I heard it. I dreaded the feeling we were going to get when we hit planet-side and had to stepped out "Rough history of this place…yeah, bad, and the magic on that world, even from here…"
"Bad"
I nodded "Nightmarish. It's…pulsing. I don't know what they're doing, but it stinks and there's a reason Kara isn't here after she read between the lines on the propaganda bullshit they sent us"
Quinn frowned "I thought it was docking directions"
I gave him a stone-faced look, tone blank "It was. Only filled with constant yammering on about virtues of the new Hona-fuckery and their NEW SOCIETY and why we should all set aside our foolish beliefs and join The Yamahjimacka, or whatever the fuck that means. I pretty sure it means me and you getting killed as evil counterrevolutionaries or whatever"
He raised and eyebrow and I shrugged "Clerics, Scientists, Believers in Bad Things…essentially that. I think that's why their ships are so…poorly maintained. They are a society taken over by mediocre bards whole kill anyone competent"
He snorted "Really?"
"A mageocracy wouldn't be this moronic. That's what it feels like to me" I muttered hands on the railings, gazing at the approaching world and studying the frankly disturbing readings the Monitor systems were bringing up in warning "They're doing something horrible there, and they've made every effort to kill off their Gods and their scientist based on what we're being told…or hinted at by the docking details. Don't do this. Don't say that. Don't imply competence, yadda, yadda"
"It's hard to look at the world, it's….like looking at a mirage in the desert?"
I nodded in agreement to Azula's words "Yeah, it feels off. Wrong. The distortion should ease off the closer we get. At least the Planeswalker Idiot on the Ice Wind seems to believe so, and I'm inclined to believe him"
"Why?"
"Because we'll be entering the area of effect. Eye of the storm sort of effect" I told her with a frown not liking the level of necromantic energies rising off that planet. Not liking what that implied "I hate to say it, but the tiny egomanic elf is a hundred percent right. We get in, we do the job, and then we leave immediately"
Quinn glanced at me "We could leave now?"
"No, we'd be contract breakers…anyway, little Missy Commodore would probably open fire on anyone breaking ranks" I pointed out as the fleet flew on to the world I could believe was doomed. There was also the fact off…well, the Boss was speaking to me in my prayers and meditations. We were committed to this….whatever it was that God wanted "Which, to be honest, I agree with. We all need stick together as I don't doubt these little monsters aren't above piracy if they could get away with it"
Then shook my head "We're doubling security on the recovery team, and Quinn…I want everything, and anything done to get this job completed safely and quickly. Talk to Sanchez and see what she says…"
--
{Two days later…}
Zatanna had thrown up shortly after we'd landed…and I nearly had as well, same as most of the magically inclined amongst the crew who'd made the mistake of getting off either ship. There was a…
Stench in the air. Sickly-sweet. Like rotten flesh covered in barbeque sauce. Magic burned in the air, a glamour, a compulsion, a constant ominous feeling. I brought up a handkerchief to my mouth and nose, thinking it might do something…but no such luck till we cast some basic protective spells to lessen the energies. I could guess what it was having seen the footage of executions of 'Tyrants!' and 'Oppressors' on planetary channels – a few actually older that twelve even!
It seemed their parents were already killed off as class enemies after all, or they'd proven their Counter-Vanguardist nature by scoring outside the 'Nominal Vanguardist Norms' established by…whatever insane standards laid out here. All as part of magical rituals that even the most evil of our little fleet would call evil and moronic at the same time. Arcane energies, twisted arcane energies, permeated this world and what could only be abominations or undead were detectable from space even if the local authorities were DENY DENY DENY mode on all of that. Even to the face of Commodore Bitchface herself. Morons.
Unfortunately, officious little morons at that, as they forced us to make landfall at a regional 'space port' at least an hour or two from the isolated temple where our cargo awaited. As if we couldn't see the fucking gulags from orbit!
They'd killed their Gods. They'd killed their democracy. They'd killed their scientists. And I suspected they'd start getting aggressive if they didn't collapse in the next few years as there were a disturbing number of 'empty' or 'quarantined' cities here, along with recently plough, yet not farmland, plots of land outside existing towns and cities. Even the little bits we'd learned in the few days in systems, from the lunatics, was enough to make me not to want to visit their shiny utopian bullshitariums or whatever insane names they'd applied to themselves – they'd handed us a whole goddamn dictionary or Revolutionary Phrases we had to use for fucks sake!
Instead, we had to land a long ways from where we wanted to be, and the upgraded Humvees had to roll off the two ships, along with the Mako, to join the heavy transport haulers from the droid vessel and rider-sailor escort from the elven Alera Coppetree's vessel. The old highways out here were 'large enough' for our 'big ugly asses' to put it less than politely as I resisted glaring at….or simply blasting…the little gnome bastard of a Vanguard Party Member in charge of this place. With a 'battleship' hovering nearby the spaceport…I just wanted to get this over with as I strode into the waiting building for my meeting with our Local Contact. Because 'outlanders' were herded into small Potemkin places like this I got the impression.
Guards, armed with more traditional weaponry such as enchanted haulberds and armour waved us through, humans from the look of it, but wearing full body armour and protections. Clearly on edge too as I took the lead in meeting our Local Representative as myself and a mildly ill looking Zatanna, Azula, and I waved off our guards and entered the room clad in combat camo and light armour rather than our traditional wear. Kara did not want to be here, and I really wish I could have pulled out as well, but she was minding the ship with Barbara and I had this deal with as I greeted a large man under a swath of arcane protections just like myself.
I shook his proffered hand "Merchant Sjach"
His grip was firm and strong, tone hard "Captain Outis, good that you have arrived. We have quite the task for you"
"I've been told" I agreed with a nod, and he spoke…
"…."
I heard it, yet didn't hear it, and I spoke as he, unheard by my companions. Understanding, Seeing through the illusion for a moment "…"
Scro. He was Scro. So were the two guards. The pendant of the Shrouded Lord of Nishrek flickering into existence in my vision as we spoke Holy Words of a sort and broke the handshakes. Then it was just a large human in his place just as I was a human in appearance. Sighed "Ah"
"Yes, indeed, quite the work. Almost holy you might say?"
I played along "Well, it is a temple we're excavating"
"On this hellish world there is little of such things left. We shall be glad to be done. Is your convoy ready?"
Great. Elves. Scro. Communist Gnomes. World that smelled and looked like necromancy dipped in candyfloss. This was just fan-fucking-tastic.
I nodded, gesturing at Zatanna and Azula "Yes, and these are my assistants in the matter…"
--
[05.33: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[Pray the history away…]
Openly talking about 'Hey, you're a Scro and on a secret mission…' really wasn't on the agenda here, not directly as I sat in the back of the lead Humvee with 'Merchant Sjach' as he was calling himself. Fortunately, or unfortunately, as such we had a long road from here to our mutual destination and briefing of sorts even under the guise of human trader to human trader. Not with an elf trader with the convoy, nor potentially listening in by the evil magical communist gnomes who'd made their world smell like the magical septic tank it smelt like in an arcane sense. Or all the annoying paperwork that came with a 'Progressive Vanguardist Society' by all inclinations as I read and filled out many, many, forms as we drove.
"Since you are….local…enough to explain" I asked of the disguised man as I rechecked various documents once more as our vehicles drove along a large hight. A surprisingly empty one at that "Firstly, this road seems very…expensive for the region, and why is the destination so far away? Along with a host of other concerns"
"Because, not too long ago, this was once a leading centre of learning on this world. Now…" he paused gazing out into the savanna-like terrain on the sides of the roads "Hmm. Now it's one of the few remaining such structures, and that is only because of….generous donations of groups interested in culture awareness of the Tyrannical Oppressors that had beset this world"
"Meaning?"
"They've effectively purged every trace of their own gods and sages in the last few years, more truly since their ascension to societal power" he stated simply as I looked up from the paperwork "They burned the temples and the engineering schools, plough over them, and built their horrid tower hovels and Vanguard Society Platforms"
"Ritual sacrifice areas" he answered my unspoken question as I raised an eyebrow "They may not be the most competent now, but they were reasonably so at that start"
I sighed "How did they…firstly, were they ruled by tyrants? Just curious?"
"Not particularly, bunch of cowardly weaklings that cared and talked too much about caring for each other in my humble opinion. The Vannies started with that their rulers didn't care enough, and then they had magic and insanity to back them up" Sjach muttered unhappily "I wasn't here for it, but *some* would have preferred the reign of pragmatism and knowledge…but they are largely all dead now"
'Meaning. The Boss backed a side discreetly and they lost' was my thoughts on that double speak as I gazed out as we passed by what might have been a small town a few years ago, but now was empty, many buildings clearly demolished in previous years "Was there a war about it?"
"No. Gnomes. Magic and accidents and hostages, though I've been *told* some ships may have gone missing over the years. But none but tyrannisers would rebel against the Glorious Vanguard, etc, etc"
"I'm sure" I replied sarcastically "The site?"
"Will be gone soon after we leave, as it officially doesn't exist anymore. These lands are quarantined" Sjach gave an amused snort, looking at me "The worst sort of disease of course. Mental corruption that causes abuses against the young minds that teaches them hate"
I just…shook my head. Sighed "Sure. Sure. Fine whatever. Child Tyrants plotting of course"
"Yes, of course" he replied glancing out the windows as the convoy roared down the highway, over open country, past scrubland and a dead town "Guard will be high on the location, the Securitate don't like and trust outsiders, but they shouldn't be too inclined to enter the temple complex, what's left of it at least"
"It would be much more convenient if could have landed on the site"
"That would be too near state secrets Captain" he retorted with weariness "Even they could be seen from the skies some would say"
'Some as in us' I thought, nodding and falling back into silence as an alert sounded that we were approaching a checkpoint into the 'quarantine zone' as it was politely labelled. Considering I'd got the stupid paperwork done for this….actual paperwork, because these imbeciles couldn't even use their own sci-fi bureaucracy system. It was doubly frustrating to deal with these people as they were, technically, more advanced than we were in most ways. By several generations really as they'd *had* functional orbital and deep space infrastructure even before they'd had magic. Now it was all in goddamn pieces within a generation or so, because 'equity' and 'not-tyranny' demanded that any old moron get put in charge of things they had no business being in fucking charge of…
--
{Three hours later…}
'Gods-damned paper pushing morons' was my immediate thoughts on these people as a journey of less than an hour had turned into a long slog of wait and wait due to constant delays. I suspected the feel of the magic in the air wasn't helping my mood on the subject, but at least we were here now was my current thinking as I stepped out of the vehicle and surveyed the battered remnants of what was once a city. Or the heart of one at least as the rest had been clearly buried, or bulldozed a few years ago, likely with heavy, and crude, use of magic to do so I judged surveying the scene.
"…finally in position?"
"Yeah" I answered Kara over the comms as I adjusted the headset and pulling out the tablet device as I stretched a little after sitting for so long "Here at long last. We'll set up camp and start extracting the package as soon as the machinery is deployed. It'll…be as expected I think"
"That bad?"
"It looks to be half buried and broken. We've a roof to get off first I think" I told her, motioning at Nathan silently to get up a drone or two and to establish a perimeter within the terms allowed to us "Two, three, days maybe. I'll have to talk to the others now, and see what they say. Just make sure our drives stay hot Kara, same for Faralda on the Child"
"The entire time?"
"Yep, and make sure everyone follows the work schedules in case we need something in a hurry. I don't want us lurking around here any longer than we have too" then sighed as figures approached from their own parts of the little convoy "Gotta go. Talk later"
She voiced her agreed and I cut the line, walking towards the elven woman and the robot that looked like C3PO if evil, while Sjach strode over as well. I sighed again, looking up at the evening sky, a faint tint of purple-blue in the air as the systems star started to set relative to our viewpoint "I think we should set out a defensive grid before we start the work. I don't know about all of you, but I am not getting good vibes off that armed escort and how they forted up their own perimeter up the road"
The elven woman, Alera Coppertree nodded, hand on her swordhilt a frown on her brow as she looked off into that distance "Aye, I feel that way too, this feels…less the end of road, than a defensive overwatch, no?"
I nodded, rubbing my chin and frowning as I looked around "Now you mention it…yes"
"What, Sir, is the situation then?" the robot, with the name of Zero-Zero-Zero, and I could see what were vaguely recognisable machines deploying for labour, though four were armed and clearly combat models as well, with blasters in hands "Recommended actions?"
"I'll not tell fellow Captains what to do, but as I said, I'd suggest we get a solid camp setup before we start work in case there's anything wrong. Even down to bobby traps for the…friendly guards by the people who used to live here"
"I'll voice mine own agreement" the elven woman stated, glancing at the robot and the 'human' "Agrement?"
"Agreement" Sjach said, nodding, as did the robot, and the elf glanced at me.
"Our spellweavers…"
I nodded, looking for Zatanna and Azula "Yes, I'll gather mine and you get yours, and we'll set up some basic wards. Best not to rush a temple, even an abandoned one. Our warriors…"
"Establish a perimeter" the robot stated simply "Investigate the agreed upon zone?"
"I think, we bring in the machinery…" I gestured "…we take off the roof, and then we do the heavy lifting of the statue supposed to be inside, along with the other…cultural relics"
Then glanced at the sky, then at Sjach "Are there any particular rituals associated with the resident deity? Day, night, start?"
"Goddess of light and reason, well…Innovation and Technology, but light was a theme…"
Triple-Zero interrupted, gesturing at a woman "Our servant organic may be able to help with discussing such documents"
I shrugged, gesturing at the fake human, who nodded silently, so I spoke "So be it. Alera and I will start setup wards and a defensive perimeter…"
--
{Several hours later…}
Sleep proved to be….difficult…
There was a constant sense of dread in the air, an unseen pressure across the whole world I suspected. The disadvantage of being magical aware I suspected as my eyes snapped opened, rubbing at my eyes as an alert pinged. Taking a little while, till the dawn work started, hadn't worked out it seemed as I stood up, hearing the Fallout gauss installed on one of the Humvees make its very faint shrieking noise of firing. My security team, and that of the others, were up and about now as well, though nothing had pressed at the protective wards placed around the camp.
"What's the problem?"
That was my first question to Nathan as he jogged over to me, rifle in his arms as I noted Azula rising from her bedroll behind me. He gestured with one hand towards the ruined buildings to the east "Minor, so far. You're not going to like it Boss, but two zombie gnomes…or skeleton gnomes, came out of the furthest building, so…"
"Haaaa….great" I muttered rubbing the bridge of my nose "Destroyed?"
"Copy that, but where there's one in a spot like this…"
He trailed off and I gave a nod "Yes. Explore at your own risk part of the documents. I'm hating these people even more with each passing hour….haaaaa, right, I'll talk to the others…"
--
[05.34: As though we were smugglers, not poor honest men?]
[To see the Man in the Moon]
"…it's sanctified ground"
The elven Captain, Alera, had pointed out what should have been the rather obvious on day after we arrived, standing in the dawn sun after a difficult night's sleep. She was right of course, though it took a few minutes to confirm, but it had made the previous night's 'annoyances' somewhat more concerning, even outside of not being warned of such things. If anything, the undead should have been suppressed here…in that there shouldn't be any stragglers like this with the magic in place. The especially shouldn't be showing rudimentary signs of intelligence such as hiding and not actively engaging us. That was the first concerning discovery of the day and had made us…improve defences a little bit more.
Oh, we didn't look like an invading military camp…too much anyway, and the Securitate stayed clear of us beyond watchful eyes. I'd resisted sending anything beyond more vague warnings to Kara and Faralda, other than maintain close watch under our code words, because I didn't doubt they were listening in the gods-damned little purple bastards. They might be incompetent at so much, but the magic in the air was starting to get to 'worrying' levels in books as I could feel the waves of arcane energies building hour after hour. Washing over the local reality…washing over us and our protective wards. It was starting to get painful, even without the smell of rotten meat and candyfloss that was omnipresent.
We *all* felt it. Even the robots felt it…
'And isn't that a concern' I thought on that second day as the roof was lifted off the temple below by the heavy lifting equipment we'd 'rented' from the locals. Equipment that was going to stay here for them to collect as none of us here were going to stay a minute longer than was necessary. I didn't care if it was going to cost us more coin…this little feckers had let us walk into a hazard and were waiting for one of us to get hurt. That was obvious to me; - Mean spirited adherence of the letter of the law. A smirking arrogance and contempt from the woman in command of that unit, even if they seemed competent.
Then there was the revelation of the next problem. Next reveal, as I figured out the situation at hand, the situation we were involved in, when I gazed upon the marble and valuable metal covered statue of the Goddess Zelayanna, The Shining Light of Innovation and Knowledge. Though, it was more 'Science' or 'Tinkering' than the broader focus of my Patron Deity, and she stood in a half stereotypical gnome 'artificer' pose, with goggles on her statue and tools in hand. Her statue was the focal point for the spells on the entire area, what was suppressing much of the…issues here by the means of lingering divine magic. Something that was going to be an issue the moment we moved the statue of course, and disrupted those lingering protections…
No. What really bothered me was when I'd descended into the surviving temple area, after we were sure it was clear. The place looking like it had been abandoned rather than stormed, and my fellow follower of my Patron had inspected the 'cultural artefact' with a few quick spells. Spells that revealed nothing more than expected, but my visual inspection, along with experience as Sean with such things in another life no longer my own had given me understanding. Understanding that we weren't smuggling out an incredibly valuable statue to be sold elsewhere. Not with combination of risks taken, and specific delivery goal. No, the statue wasn't the important part, nor all the things we were clearing out from the Temple.
No. What was apparent was that we were smuggling out the lingering aspects of the Goddess herself. And that was both a major security concern…as well as something I couldn't mention to anyone. Not with the risks involved as the second night flowed into the third day after minor undead probing at the perimeter and nobody getting any proper sleep. Some were having nightmares, some, like me and Zatanna, suffering an omnipresent feeling of dread that made sleep hard to achieve or simply fitful and interrupted. Everyone moment I was expecting an attack, or something similar, and if it was this bad here…
"…cranes are secured on the…"
"Careful! Careful!"
Which was why were getting this done now, and get on the road as I watched a mixed team of droids and team get the harness around the statue and start the lift. Myself, Zatanna, and three elves (and wasn't that amusingly ironic) from Captain Coppertree's crew serving to work together to ensure there wasn't some magical fuck up during the process. Easier said then done as yet another 'pulse' of magic rumbled over the world, sounding like distant thunder to me.
"What are they doing?"
Zee was angry, or at least very grumpy at the entire situation. I could relate as it was just…hard to maintain my spellwork with this godsdamned energy in the air. Whatever the morons were doing was both epic level, utterly insane, and getting to all of us. Something I expressed to her as I wiped the sweat off my face, glad for the protective spells in the rings and amulets everyone wore. Otherwise, I'd make us all go full hazmat gear "What I don't want to be around to see when they finish whatever madness their building to"
"Agreed" the elven woman, Alera, muttered fervently as the statue was raised up, and then carefully lowered unto the heavy bed transport vehicle "The question is do we leave now, or wait…"
"We leave now - the moment we're secure"
"Yes" Triple Zero voiced immediately, his human girl Aphra nodding rapidly as well looking very ill after what had been two bad nights nightmares I expected "Leave"
"The equipment…"
"I'm at fuck the equipment stages here Zee" I replied looking around and up at the skies "It's going to take time to mount up without leaving our actually important equipment. It'll be night far too soon even with starting pack up now"
"This is correct. Recommend beginning immediate pack up and discussion with….escort"
I sighed, glancing at Sjach after Captain Triple Zero had pointed out the other problem. The disguised Scro sighed deeply, nodding "Aye. They shan't be the easiest neither"
"You'd think they would allow us bring our vessels here"
I shrugged in response to the elven woman "That would be too easy, and make them not be tiny egomaniacs who think we're all terrible outsiders who should be massively impressed and in awe of this place. We either wait here, or get ready and start driving the moment we get the a-okay…"
--
{Many hours later….}
"This feels deliberate" Azula stated to me as we entered the Humvee, Zatanna on the right and see the left, securing the doors to the rear as the driver roared the engine "They stalled us"
"Little egos need lots of stroking" I nearly growled but kept myself calm as I rested my head back on the seat, then sighed, pushing back to sit properly "I still think their hoping we'll have an accident or a death and have reasons to push in on us"
"It's surprising they let us in at all…" Zee grumbled as a wavefront of invisible energies rolled over us again, and I resisted a flinch, Azula shivering as Zatanna shuddered at its touch, falling silent a moment. Then started up again "If they are so against us…why allow us in?"
"Afraid of the Elven Imperial Navy and some of those backing this event" I stated bluntly "They're looking for reasons to be awkward, but they aren't pressing dangerously. Basically, they are being officially open and helpful…and secretly hoping we trip over a rock and hurt ourselves. Unofficially at least"
Engines flared to life, lights beaming out into the growing darkness as the convoy began to get into formation and start to move as we fell silent, listening to the chatter. We were in the lead, with another of ours behind, then the droid troop carrier followed by the two heavy lifter-loader trucks from the locals…all the way back to the forming rear-guard of the Mako and the elven riders. We'd even put archers, from the elves, B-1 commandos from the droids, and two of our own better shoots up on the large vehicles to serve as defenders in case of zombie gnomes, or bandits…or people playing at bandits.
Lots of shouting had been needed to get them all moving, and the magical build up was getting to really fucked up levels. Everyone was getting ready to leave according to Kara, all the spelljammers that'd come with us issuing demands to get going, and we would…in a few days. After paperwork. Because there was always paperwork. But if we could get our refugee in the statue shape back to the ship….
'Then I don't have to worry as much about discovery' I thought darkly as the convoy thundered unto the old highway, watchful for any trouble as we abandoned all the 'leased' equipment to ensure only what was important or valuable was loaded up. The 'Securitate' weren't overly happy with having to retrieve said equipment…if they bothered doing so. Judging from what I'd seen of this world it might just sit there for months or years before some in the glorious Vanguard Progressive Revolutionary Whatever Department decided to allow them be collected.
"Checkpoint coming up in twenty miles Boss" Nathan said from the front, and I nodded as he spoke into the comms, then back to me "Looks like we'll be held up a bit"
"Not a surprise. Let Barbara know, she's on Watch Duty tonight" I answered tiredly as the darkness of the skies seemed more ominous and suffocating than any world I'd seen before even through the hardened windows of the upgraded Humvee "We'll be able…."
Words died on my lips as the….
Nothingness. Nothing hit us. Went through us. There was no force behind it. Nothing that could be felt, or seen, or heard. But we did. Even the non-magical Captain Nathan Anderson and the driver Etienne felt it, the vehicle jolting momentarily as the man reacted to the blast front that didn't go through us. Me…
I had time to grab a paper bag, holding the rising bile in my stomach and throat till I got it to my lips and began to wretch as the energies burned against me, against my wards. Azula looked very ill beside me, and Zatanna was shuddering, an arm suddenly around me even as the feeling passed within mere seconds. It was…
Was magic on an epic scale…
And then there was a wash of Negative Energy. So much Negative Energy. SO. VERY. MUCH. The smell so much worse, and I heard the momentary confusion across the convoy as people we confused. Quickly we called a stop, people getting out or simply taking a moment to form up and catch themselves. Then…
Gasps. Confusion. Horror. Terror.
I understood why. My heart feeling like it had stopped beating as I got out, dry heaving again, but making the mistake of looking into the skies.
There, up above, was a second moon.
It's skull face grinning down on the doomed world I was standing upon…
--
