MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   1 4 . 0

SOMEWHEN • PRESENT DAY • FYI

// SOMEWHEN  

The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.

You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.

Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:

// 0-L1V-14

Oh, hello. You are not the team I know. Yet you are here for the orb … Good.

The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.

// 0-L1V-14

I've located one within the station, but it seems to have fractured. The air around them appears to have some sort of temporal disturbance that I can't quite pin down. Be cautious, but bring them to me before anything happens.

Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.

1.0   The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.

There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.

Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.

2.0   Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.

You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.

3.0   The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.

Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?

If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.

4.0   Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.

If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.

5.0   You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.

By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.

6.0   The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.

The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.

Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.

● ● ●

Present Day.

The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.

Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.

// VIVECA

“I don’t know how it happened… they should have arrived here. Everything seemed normal! But I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

// DEGAR

“They could be anywhere, right? Except we can’t even help them if we don’t know where that might be.”

// VIVECA

“I know. The strange thing is that it seems that we’ve located another orb… only, it states that it’s here. On the station. So even if the platform sent them straight to it… why aren’t they here?”

The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.

// DEGAR

“Keep working at it. I’m going to see what I can figure out in the station’s systems. Maybe we can trace back to the team somewhere. Or somewhen.”

Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.

// VIVECA

“Yeah. We’ll find them.”

TOP

F Y I

• The events in this log take place during the first two weeks of June.

• For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.

• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

• Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪

TOP

▶ NAV

Comments

closed to natasha | rose

[drawsblood]

[ Their sleeping quarters are so changed that Joric almost thinks he's taken a wrong turn somewhere, but it matter little because there are supplies in here and they're going to need them while they're stuck. He studies the cans to see what's in them and looks around for a can opener. Not for the first time he laments the fact that some food is so hard to get at. Sure, it's well preserved but his people had their own preserving methods and it didn't involve locking the food behind metal that needed to be pierced.

He shines his flashlight on a shelf and moves to examine a box that he has no hesitation in opening. The rosy light greets him with such a pull that he reaches out and touches it without hesitation. Part of the storage room seems to melt away, or perhaps some sort of portal opens up because now there's greenery and sunlight pouring into the space. Joric has reverted back to a teenager and suddenly he's carrying a young blonde girl no more than six years old on his back. Another boy that looks close enough to Joric that it's clear they're brothers has stopped ahead of the pair. Looking back, he appears maybe two or three years younger than the teenage Joric, whose hair is in a similar style to his everyday look. His beard is no more than stubble and he's not as muscular as he normally is, but he's just as tall.

"That one?" the younger brother asks, pointing at a flower in full bloom along a hedge row. The girl peeks over Joric's shoulder from where she sits piggyback and nods.

"Yes!"

"All right." He moves to pick it while Joric hitches the girl up higher as she starts to squirm. ]

You're as wriggly as a snake. Do you want carried or accidentally dropped?

[ "Nooo!" The girl squeals out dramatically. "Do not drop me!" ]

Well then stop doing your best to be dropped!

[ Joric laughs at her protests and tightens his hold as their brother returns with the flower. He's holding a whole bunch in his other hand in blues, whites, yellows, and a few pink. ]

All right, let's find a shady spot and I'll make you the crown.

[ The girl cheers and squeezes Joric tight around the neck while the boy laughs at the exaggerated choking sound Joric makes in response. ]

[deaddrop]

[The scene takes Natasha off guard. Perhaps nothing should surprise her anymore, but suddenly being swept up in someone else's memory wasn't something she'd anticipated.

But the sight unfolds around her, and it's—it's sweet.

She tenses even so as she watches, waiting to see if they notice her—can they—or for there to be some kind of trap.

She doesn't trust things that seem sweet.]

[drawsblood]

[ The trio are suddenly sitting under a tree and Joric is handed the flowers. He sets them down and starts wrapping the stem of one flower around the other. His brother says: "How much did the girls make fun of you when you asked them how to do this?" Smiling, Joric replies: ]

More than enough.

[ His gaze lifts to look at his brother, but at that point he spots Natasha over his brother's shoulder and some sort of clarity returns. It's clear from the expression on his face that he recognizes her and he's unsure what to do. His hands continue adding flowers and wrapping stems, but he doesn't return to the conversation with his siblings. Instead he addresses his crew mate. ]

This seems so real, but I remember you. This is a memory.

[deaddrop]

It is.

[She agrees, her expression softening slightly, something just slightly gentler than normal. She's the intruder here, in her estimation.

She can't help but feel apologetic.]

I didn't mean to interrupt—your siblings?

[drawsblood]

Yes.

[ He looks to the pair who - unlike Joric - are unaware that anyone is there. This is a memory, after all, and it can't be changed. They sit watching Joric's hands create the crown as the boy plucks at grass and the girl has eyes glued to every flower as it's added like she's accessing each one. ]

This is Astrid and Karl.

[ Eyes fall to his lap where he keeps on working. There's a feeling that he could stop if he wanted to; he could drop it all and leave the scene. But he doesn't want to. He wants it to last as long as it can. ]

I suppose this must be one of the orb's ploys. But in this case, I don't mind it.

[deaddrop]

No, this seems... this is very peaceful.

[She glances over her shoulder, but it seems increasingly unlikely this memory is setting the scene for tragedy.]

If it's a ploy, I'm not sure what it's meant to accomplish. Scare us off?

[drawsblood]

If it can get inside my mind and search through, it didn't pick a memory that would scare me away.

[ He frowns thoughtfully, looking down at what he's doing. It stands to reason that at any moment the memory could be twisted and used against him. He should try and leave it. But despite the possibility that this could all turn sour, he can't abandon it. Not when he's so clearly seeing his siblings as they once were in happier times. ]

They're both gone now. She died many years ago and he- it was not so long ago. It's good to see them outside of my mind's eye.

[deaddrop]

You've mentioned your sister before.

[Fondly, it's seemed, and Natasha can see that here.

There's a touch of sadness as she speaks, out of respect for the fact she's seeing a child here and understanding she wouldn't live to be old.]

It looks like you were close.

[drawsblood]

I suppose so. I didn't have that with my older siblings, so I created it with the younger.

[ He feels the urge to stop constructing the flower crown. This is the point in the memory where he did, and he lets himself get pulled along to perform the same actions. He beckons his sister closer and encircles her head with the flowers to see if it's the right size. ]

Just a few more.

[ Astrid sits back on her heels and clasps her hands together. "I can hardly wait!" Joric smiles sadly as he adds the last few flowers to the crown and threads it closed. Then he sets it on her head and she squeals, reaching up to pat the flowers. "Am I pretty?" Karl shrugs and as only a preteen boy can do, says "Eh." Astrid shoves at his arm and he laughs. Joric smiles once more before the scene before him fades out and he and Natasha are left with only the light of flashlights to see by. He's returned to his normal age and he rubs at an eye with the back of his hand for a moment without saying anything. ]

[deaddrop]

[The memory ends, still sweet. Natasha nods, wondering if she ought to leave him with his memory.

She doesn't feel unwelcome, though. Instead, she'll move in closer, quiet as a ghost, and bump his arm.]

You know, you're pretty good at making those flower crowns.

[drawsblood]

[ It's a safe subject to touch on as he collects himself. In fact, he lets out a short laugh at the compliment. ]

They're easy once you learn the pattern. Then it's all repetition. Maybe I'll make one for you one day.

[deaddrop]

If you make one, I'll wear it.

[That seems like a fair thing to say, though she's not entirely sure that works as a trade.]

Though we'll have to be somewhere with flowers again for that to work.

[drawsblood]

And flowers that aren't the size of a house either.

[ He gives her a knowing look since they searched those fields together on a mission not so long ago. ]

Most places have some sort of nature. And I always find it.

[deaddrop]

Or where we aren't the size of mice.

[Wryly. They had managed to do something at least somewhat useful on that mission, despite their size.]

It's good you do. I might get distracted myself.

[drawsblood]

Distracted with getting people to talk and sneaking into places, you mean?

[ Her skill set is very different to his and one might say more valuable to a mission since leaving civilization to chill out in nature rarely means finding the orb. ]

[deaddrop]

Usually, yes.

[And often times that's been a waste of time too. There's always so many leads and most go nowhere. She shrugs.]

And if I'm lucky, sneaking back out again.

[drawsblood]

If you're ever unlucky, you can always call on me to cause a distraction.

[ If needed, he can be good at making a lot of noise and mayhem. ]

[deaddrop]

Aw, shucks.

[A little wryly, though the sentiment isn't insincere.]

That's the sweetest thing someone's said to me in a while.

[drawsblood]

If that is so, I hope it's because you were surrounding yourself with boring people at your job and it's not that no one else among us has said sweet things to you.

[ He knows they're mostly either jokesters or way too serious with not much in between, but surely others among the crew have made such sentiments known. ]

You deserve to hear it.

[deaddrop]

[Repression and deflection are a hell of a drug. It's as much Natasha's fault as anyone's. She tends to avoid sincerity.

But she finds she doesn't mind a little of it.]

Thank you. I appreciate it. And if you every need someone to break you out of prison...

[She lets the offer hang.]

[drawsblood]

[ He leans his head back against the wall behind him and laughs. ]

It's only happened once so far, but that doesn't mean it won't again. I would welcome your help if I find myself in that situation. Perhaps you could charm the guards.

[deaddrop]

I can be very charming. And if that doesn't work, there's always choking someone out.

[But she'd try being charming first.]

[drawsblood]

[ Yeah, that would probably turn him on too. ]

Choking someone out for me? I'm touched.

[ He jokes, but he knows that's what teammates do. ]

Just don't risk yourself needlessly and I will be most appreciative of a rescue.

[deaddrop]

Well, what else do you do for a friend?

[Lightly herself. Are they friends? She'd like to think so. At least float the idea.

Natasha doesn't have a lot of friends, historically.]

But I promise not to take any risks I wouldn't usually.

[drawsblood]

[ The idea floats over to him and sits there without him batting it away. Joric once had many friends and family, but one by one they were all lost one way or another until he was alone. Coming to the Ximilia he hadn't expected to form bonds with others but it's not unwelcome in the least. ]

Then I look forward to seeing you in action. And that makes me feel better.