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

[singlelogbridge]

(Green: kidnapping Ciri please!)

[choicely]

[ Perhaps Yennefer should have known that Voleth Meir, the Deathless Mother would not be the only one on the hunt for Ciri — but the child, Geralt's ward, is a powerful one, and the forces that are interested in claiming her for their own equally powerful. The temple of Melitele is supposed to be a neutral ground, a place of respite for others, and that's no doubt the reason why Geralt chose it as a safe refuge to bring Ciri above all others — but Yennefer is still convinced she can at least lead the girl away peacefully before he or anyone else is the wiser. If she brings Ciri to Voleth Meir, then her chaos will be restored, and right now, she's desperate enough to seize the deal.

That plan gets shot to hell the moment the fire fucker of a mage known as Rience arrives with the Michelet brothers — sellswords for hire from Redania, the kingdom that wants Ciri for their own political purposes. Yennefer's pleased, at least, to see that the scar she gave Rience is one he still bears, the place where she wielded his own fire against him in spite of being cut off from her own chaos. Spitting ale into a man's face while his index finger is lit like a candle apparently works wonders.

But when Geralt tells her to grab Ciri and find a safe place to hide, Yennefer realizes her plan to abscond with the girl doesn't have to change that much after all. She turns her back on the sound of clanging metal, swords clashing, and the two of them barricade themselves in a room — but even as Geralt starts to slash his way through the sellswords, Rience is close behind them. They're barely able to barricade themselves in a room before he starts trying to burn his way through the door. ]

You need to get us out of here. [ Without her chaos, Yennefer can't portal them away — but Ciri can, and she gives her the spell in Elder tongue to repeat. ] I'm going to teach you the first thing I learned. Lesson number one: See the outcome, make it happen.

[ Ciri closes her eyes, barely needing to utter the spell once before the portal appears, large and swirling. Rience, sensing Geralt has cut all the other sellswords down, vanishes in a portal of his making, but the fire mage's absence goes unnoticed by Ciri, who steps through her own. For a moment, Yennefer is behind to hear Geralt's call of protest — Yen, stop — before she turns around, glancing over one shoulder through a burned hole in the door at the witcher's stricken face. ]

I wish I could. [ Something like regret crosses over her features, but then she follows Ciri through the portal before she can think twice about what she's doing — effectively bringing the girl that much closer to Voleth Meir. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Unlike most of the memories he's been witness to so far, this one isn't filled with the faces of strangers. He recognizes Geralt and Ciri vaguely, but it's Yennefer that catches his attention and holds it. It's difficult to fully understand what's going on at first. The immediate threat is obvious, but it takes a while to realize there's more happening than the attack.

Maybe if they'd never had that conversation about guilt and mistakes, about Geralt giving Yennefer an absolution she didn't feel was earned, he wouldn't have understood what was happening. Or maybe the look on Geralt's face as the portal closed and Yennefer's words of regret would have been enough. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes as the portal disappears, his heart aching deeply for a woman he's come to care about so sincerely.

When he opens his eyes again, it's to search for her. Despite Ciri's presence on board, it's as clear as day to him whose memory it is that he's in.]

Miss Yennefer?

[choicely]

[ She has revisited enough of these memories over again to understand what it means when she's sought out — some of the orbers have existed with her in the memories themselves, others she's only spoken to after the fact, but when Wei Wuxian comes to find her she doesn't need him to explain why, not when she's also relived it herself.

The sting that accompanies her betrayal of Geralt and Ciri is still fresh enough in her mind — after all, it was only days later that they'd all converged on Kaer Morhen, fought the Deathless Mother together, before her arrival here on the station.

She can reflect on her memories of childhood, of being sold by her family, with a certain remove now, as many years as it's been since those events occurred. This, however, still carries with it some pain. ]

I suppose you have some questions for me, about all of that.

[singlelogbridge]

[There are memories of his that if taken in isolation would make him out to be a monster. There are memories of his that even with context might do the same. Which is to say that when he meets Yennefer's gaze, it isn't contempt or judgment in his eyes, only a empathetic sorrow that colors them.]

I know you Miss Yennefer. I'm sure there are things you haven't shared just as there are things I haven't, but I know you well enough.

You have nothing to answer for, but if you'd like to talk about it, I'll listen.

[choicely]

There are only some on this station who are aware of the connection between Ciri and I.

[ And that has not entirely been by design, mostly convenience; Yennefer isn't the type of person to divulge everything about herself to those she doesn't know very well, and she'd still consider many of the orbers here to be within that category, regardless of how many missions they've all been on together.

There are some, however, that she holds in deeper confidence, and that might be evidenced all on its own by the way she regards the one before her now — with quiet resignation, and more than a bit of regret. ]

There was a time, however brief, when I had yet to learn just how special she truly is. Before that happened, I made a selfish choice in an attempt to regain my own power.

[singlelogbridge]

[He reaches out to grasp her elbow, a gentle and brief show of support as she speaks. Another time, he might have felt angered by what he'd witnessed, if he were younger and still believed that right and wrong were clear cut paths. That naivete is long gone now and he recognizes the complexities that went into such choices as Yennefer had made. More than that, he registers the regret in her voice. If that regret wasn't something he could relate to, he wouldn't be here in the first place.]

It doesn't sound like it's a choice you stand by now. [He pauses and then] You care for her, don't you?

[choicely]

More than she even knows.

[ It's not a sentiment that she has shared too obviously — neither with Ciri in their own sphere, let alone this one. For starters, they were about to embark on a journey that would constantly have them looking over their shoulders, even before the girl had ended up on board the station. Now, the missions are what they're all occupied with, and there has been little time for such things to be expressed — especially when Ciri's training is so much more important. ]

This moment. [ Her voice is faint, still in recollection. ] It's the regret I made a deal to change.

[singlelogbridge]

[Oh.

The significance of her telling him as much isn't lost on him. He's shared his own regret only with a handful of people, and Yennefer is more private than him about her personal life. Which is to say nothing of the regret itself. Wei Wuxian is quiet for a while, considering the weight of the admission and how it figures into everything he's just seen.]

Was she okay after? [After Yennefer had taken Ciri away from Geralt. He doesn't know if the girl on the Ximilia is from before or after these events or just how badly this ended. He remembers again about how Yennefer had been absolved by Geralt and he wonders at the outcome.]

[choicely]

There was more than happened, after. Something I couldn't protect her from.

[ When Voleth Meir, likely frustrated by Yennefer's decision to renege on their deal, had possessed Ciri instead, it had taken nearly everything in their combined power — Yennefer and her alchemy, Geralt and his small band of witcher brethren — to stop her. ]

I — we saved her, eventually. I'm not certain how much she remembers from that time, or if she even recalls it at all. [ They haven't spoken of it, that betrayal, and Yennefer is reluctant to do so if it means it'll change things between them now. It might be an inevitability, though, just as this is — finally admitting to her regret, with Wei Wuxian. ]

Once I saw her, truly saw her... I knew I couldn't carry out what I had planned to do. But it didn't change the fact that I almost did it.

[singlelogbridge]

It does change it. It matters that you didn't. [Even if she was planning to.]

We're defined by our actions and in the end, you chose to protect her. You chose to fight for her. That's who you are, Miss Yennefer. [He won't ask her what she planned to do. She's already shared the gist of it, and in the end it doesn't matter. He means what he says. What she had almost done is not what she has done.]

A protector. And the kind of person I'm glad to know. [He bumps her shoulder with his own, smile warm with affection and admiration.]