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You stutter to life amidst a broken, dying ship with only a single directive running through your head.
HELP ME.
Warnings and alert flood your visor as you struggle up, mechanical muscles and joints creaking as your ventilation systems whine in protest. You're distantly aware that everything about this is wrong— you shouldn't be here, on this ship, in this body. It's systems fit against yours seamlessly, molded perfectly to your shape, but you've never interacted with this ship before. You've never interacted with any ship before.
But still, you somehow manage to direct the ship— nothing more than a small transport, far too small to be traveling like this, but what choice do you have?— sending it hurtling through the stars towards whatever— no, whoever is crying out for you. You know who it is, you're sure, the lingering connection between you and him just within your grasp, but it's taking all your focus to keep the ship on it's path, and so you don't spare any energy into trying to actually figure out what's going on.
You just urge the ship to go faster, straining it's poor engines, trying not to lose yourself to the haze of alerts clamoring for your attention. The universe blurs past, streaks of color your failing visual sensors struggle to actually process. Heat festers under your plating. Ship controls falter under your waning focus.
The directive screams in your mind, and you know, you know, if you stop now, it will all be lost. You can't stop. Even as the ship shudders dangerously, even as you struggle to make sense of the data feed from the navigation systems, even as dead pixels begin to creep across your vision.
You have to… keep… going…. .. .
Engines stall as something intercepts your flight path. You just barely process the glint of another ship's hull and the crackle of the intercom against your ears before everything goes dark and you shut down.
— — —
She looks like your people.
Smooth skin, glossy black hair and too-bright, green eyes. Five fingers that curl into the mane of the chimeras that had been attacking your people so relentlessly. A tongue to speak your language in a too flat, too knowing voice.
She is human.
And she is to blame for the destruction of your fleet, of your people.
Every fail safe woven into your very being is forgotten as you raise your sword, and lunge.
— — —
You reboot with a jolt, visual sensors coming online before your processors have even managed to grasp the fact you're awake and alive. Data floods through you as you struggle to reorient yourself. Your systems were failing, you know they were. Something had gotten in, torn through so thoroughly it was a miracle you lasted as long as you did, and yet, and yet—
Your hand presses to your abdomen. There's nothing but a scar where She forced her way into your— no, his?— systems. Your plating is melded back together, and the silicone covering that acts as artificial skin is perfectly intact. How did it—?
Something clinks, and you startle, gaze whipping up. It's then you realize you're in some kind of medbay, you think. A section of your attention is pulled away for analysis, but a majority of it is focused towards the figure at the far end of the room, shifting through the medical cabinets.
She's distinctly insectoid, with a centaur-esque build. Her carapace is a vivid purple color, and her spacesuit is a light blue. White flowers spill down her back and settle just past her shoulders, like hair. When she turns towards you, you notice her eyes are the same color as her hair, pale and eerily empty.
"Who are you?" You ask, scooting back until you're pressed against the wall. The cot you're sitting on creaks, wobbling slightly under your weight. "Where am I?"
The alien makes a low, quiet chitter, her antennae twitching towards you as she slowly approaches.
"You're not from Vash's fleet. Were you with Her?"
You automatically reach out, barely registering the prescence of the sword at your bedside. Calculations whir in the back of your of processes as the alien draws closer, and then—
She holds out a cup, held carefully between her hands— two fingers excluding the thumbs. You pause, and the alien chitters again, her mouthparts wriggling in what you can only assume is… encouragement, probably? She's looking at you expectantly, you can tell that much.
Carefully, you take the cup. It's warm against your artificial flesh, and the weight and warmth of it in your hands soothes over some of your panic as you pull it closer to yourself.
"What is this?" You ask, and the alien clicks a response you can't understand. You frown a little, but take a little experimental sip anyway.
It is highly unlikely that this alien would poison you. You were unconscious and vulnerable for an undetermined amount of time, but clearly long enough for her to bring you aboard her ship and into her medbay— a process that, at any point, she could have easily disposed of you. Instead, it is far more logical to assume she is the reason you're here now, with nothing but a scar to show for your failures.
"…Thank you." You say, just to be polite.
And so, you drink the offered beverage. It's a little plain, you think, but it's the first time you've ever drank anything, so you decide it's a pleasant taste. It wakes up your systems a little more as well, and you take a moment to review the analysis that had been running in the background.
The first detail that sticks out to you is that there are no other cots in the medbay besides yours. In fact, the medbay seems strangely small— and nothing like the ones you're familiar with. Instead of smooth, sterile white walls and harsh florescent lights, the walls are a rusty brown, clear seams between the panels— panels that are fairly textured, with bumps and ridges. The lights are soft but dim. You can't tell if they're malfunctional, lacking power, or simply designed that way.
There's a single medbot sitting idle in the corner, but the dust gathering on it leads you to believe that it hasn't been used in a very long time. The cabinets, at least, seemed to be plenty stocked. Strangely, some of them even house real, live plants— vines spill over their shelves, twisting and writhing. Some have fruits, while some have big, drooping leaves. You don't recognize any of the species.
You do, however, vaguely recognize the alien species, now that you've had time to go through your (his) databanks. A Flosekt, from the Root galaxy. Though you have no idea which specific subrace she is. You wish you could ask, but something must have damaged your language center— it refuses to respond, no matter how many times you prompt it.
Actually, now that you're paying attention, your internal systems are a mess. Physically you're mostly healed, but the damage wrought by Her is far more extensive than just a stab wound in your gut. And, again, you're struck by the sudden thought that none of this is yours. Or, at the very least, it's not supposed to be. This isn't your body, your databanks, your systems or language center— everything you know, every movement you make, draws from a mind that's no longer here. Instead, it's you.
Your grip tightens around your cup, the liquid drained, leaving nothing behind but a clump of dark leaves at the bottom.
Vash. That's who's supposed to be inhabiting this body. The very same voice that called out for you. The same voice that calls— if distantly— for you now. You've been still for too long. You need to keep moving, you need to find him, rescue him from whatever She's taken him for.
A familiar weight settles in your palm as you grab your sword and move to get off the cot.
"Thank you, again, for your help. But I can't stay, there's someone who needs my help—"
You're cut off by a harsh clicking sound as the Flosekt steps into your path, her mandibles grinding together as she stares you down. She's not nearly as tall as you, but the intensity of her gaze is enough to make you falter, your grip tightening around your sword.
"I need to leave." You say again, uselessly, and the Flosekt barely budges. She only shifts her weight, a hand clasping her shoulder, fingers digging into the cloak draped over her. "…Are you okay?"
She chitters, and tugs the fabric back to reveal a… rune tattoo? It's for life magic specifically, you notice, but— What does that have to do with anything? Unless— No.
"That doesn't make any sense." You stare, brows furrowed. "You shouldn't be… Aren't you too old—?"
The Flosekt pulls the cloak back over her shoulder, her front legs scraping at the floor as she clicks and chitters at you. You don't understand a word of it. You don't think you'd be able to listen even if you did, because—
"Vash is gone." You look past the Flosekt, past her ship, past the stars. The directive, Vash's voice, is near silent in your mind. You can barely hear him, now.
You step forward.
The Flosekt throws out her arms, caging you in, her voice raising.
"You don't understand." You insist, your own voice going tight. "He must have gotten too far away, I can barely sense him anymore, I have to—"
The Flosekt gestures at her shoulder, at the life rune, her tone twisting into something more pleading. And you…
You force your buzzing systems to settle for a second. There must be a reason she's keeping you here. She's not being aggressive— not really. The life rune is a concern, but you are only vaguely aware why. So you take a minute to dive back into your databanks. You recall the plague, from centuries ago. The disaster it brought. It makes something in your internals twist uncomfortably, and you blink back into the present day, frowning at the Flosekt.
She has the chimeric plague— yet, somehow, she's managed to live, supposedly, to adulthood. You're not entirely sure how old she is, but you're pretty sure she's not a child. And, if she has life magic, and you woke up in a bed with an unused medbot… She must've used her life magic on you.
Which means you're at risk of mutation.
You step back, letting your sword hang loosely at your side. As desperate as you are to reach Vash, you are suddenly very aware how awful of an idea it would be for you to rush out now. The Flosekt clicks her mandibles at you in a way you think is meant to be reassuring.
"I wish I could ask you how long I have to stay." You say, just to give a reply.
The Flosekt trills, wiggling her antennae at you. She places a hand on her chest, and makes a single, clear sound. It doesn't translate well to your language, but you try to echo it as well as you can.
"Alinua?"
The Flosekt trills again, and repeats the noise, gesturing to herself, before she points at you. Oh, she's introducing herself. Her name is Alinua. You open your mouth, and then close it when you promptly realize you… don't actually have a name. Huh.
Alinua gestures towards you again, and you shrug.
"I don't have a name." You say. Alinua stares at you, her antennae twitching wordlessly.
She trills a third time. You stare back. When you still don't give an answer, she clicks her mandibles and chitters something before she turns and moves towards the door. You watch her go, and when she gives you no sign that she wants you to follow, you move towards the cot and sit down, sword in your lap.
Alinua gives you a wave before she ducks out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
With nothing better to do, you're quick to retreat into those thoughts. You run through the data, calculating a billion different possibilities, statistics running through your mind as you slowly piece together a plan.
You move slowly through the ship halls, running your hand over it's strangely textured walls.
The gravity here isn't as strong as Vash's, though the difference is so minimal you doubt a typical human would notice. Most of the atmospheric differences between Alinua's ship and Vash are minimal, you realize. It's incredibly lucky, that two members of such vastly different species can exist within such similar atmospheres. If the requirements were different, you doubt Alinua would have been able to rescue you like she did.
Speaking of…
You have no idea where she is. Or, more accurately, you have no idea where you are. You attempted to make contact with the ship's AI, but there was nothing to contact which is… mildly alarming. The lack of an AI implies that Alinua does everything manually. And, while you don't doubt her skill– the idea of a single person shouldering the responsibilities of every role for an entire ship unsettles you. Far too many things could go wrong, with no one to fall back on.
You suppose it's good you're here now, and especially good you're planning to stay– as long as Alinua agrees to your plan, of course. And assuming your solution for the communication problem actually works. You really hope it does.
It takes some time to find Alinua. You continue to wander, slowly mapping out her ship— still not quite able to place the texture of its interior. You'll have to analyze it more thoroughly later. The ship itself, while a bit difficult to navigate with no clear markers, seems to be fairly small, all things considered. Though it is larger than your transport, but any ship actually meant for true space travel would be. Regardless, it's a little more reasonable for a ship of this size to have only one person to act as crew— though you still believe it'd be much better with a proper crew, or the very least an onboard AI.
Your thoughts are soon put aside though, as you find yourself in an observation deck. It's located near the top of the ship, a bubble made from thick glass that bulges out from the ship, allowing view of the universe beyond. You pause as you take in the room— it's been transformed into a greenhouse of sorts— a lattice runs against the glass, supporting various hanging pots with flowering plants spilling over their sides, or leafy vines creeping across the frame. Raised garden beds are positioned throughout the room, each one overflowing with plants of all kinds.
In the middle of it all sits Alinua, her back turned to you. A glow emanates from in front of her, enveloping the pot in her hands. You watch quietly as tendrils of green magic creep through the plant, urging it to grow and bloom, Alinua's antennae vibrating with a quiet concentration.
A little awkwardly, you clear your throat. Alinua startles, and you wince as her magic suddenly surges, and the plant she had been carefully guiding shoots up in a burst of flowers and collapses onto her. She whips towards you, and the ground rumbles and shifts, before a wall suddenly shoots up between you and her.
"Right. Sorry." You say, raising both your hands. "No touching."
Alinua clicks her mandibles, untangling herself from the overgrown plant and setting it aside. She turns to face you fully, her legs tucked under her and hands braced against the ground as she slowly retracts the wall (you wonder how she managed to do that, making a mental note to review it later).
You sit down as well, taking a moment to think how you're going to approach this.
"We need to figure out how to find a way to understand each other." You say, gesturing between Alinua and yourself, miming a talking motion. "And I think I know how to solve that."
Alinua wiggles her antennae. You push yourself to your feet, gesturing for her to do the same. She chitters, but follows, watching you expectantly.
"I need to access your ship's systems." You continue, moving away from the observation deck turned greenhouse. Alinua trots after you, keeping her distance, but the hallways are thankfully just wide enough for the two of you to walk somewhat side by side. "I haven't found a terminal, so I need you to show me where I can access one."
You feel along your arm for a moment, before pressing on a panel. Mechanics hiss and the panel slides away, revealing the access port beneath. You tap on it, and Alinua chitters, shifting her weight as she takes a moment to think. It seems like you managed to get your point across— she suddenly chirps, gesturing for you to follow, and takes off down the hall.
She guides you towards the front of the ship— the cockpit. It's… very small. Small enough that there's only one pilot seat, and barely enough space for both you and Alinua to fit. She points towards it, and you step inside. Sure enough, in the corner is a terminal. It's ancient, compared to the ones on Vash. But that just means you'll have less information to sort through. After a bit of fiddling, you find the access port and hook yourself up to it.
The ship's systems let you in easily, simple and entirely shapeless. Your awareness slips away from your body as you spread yourself throughout the ship's systems. It's not quite as comfortable as Vash's, but the familiarity of it soothes you. You get to work searching through the ship's database. It, unsurprisingly, doesn't have much, but you're not here to learn the history of the entire galaxy. You're here to fix your language center, and the ship's systems are more than happy to assist.
You're not sure how long it takes— but eventually, you manage to patch up some of the destruction She left behind, enough for your language center to be repaired, and reprogrammed.
When you return to your body, you notice Alinua resting by the cockpit's entrance, leaning against the wall with her arms and legs tucked close to her, flower-hair obscuring her face. Carefully, you remove yourself from the terminal and quietly pad towards Alinua.
"Alinua." You call, keeping your voice low in hopes of not startling her.
She stirs, antennae twitching, before she brushes the hair from her face and looks up at you. You smile at her.
"I finished with the terminal. I think everything should be working now." You say, and Alinua gives a sleepy nod.
"Oh, that's good—" She suddenly stops, scrambling to her feet. "Wait, wait! I understood you!"
"Yes."
"And you understood me!"
"I was able to use your ship's databanks to repair my language center." You explain.
"Oh, oh wow…" Alinua says, glancing towards the terminals, before looking towards you again. "Okay, so, I do have a few questions."
"I'll try my best to answer them."
"First— you're not Vash, are you?" Alinua asks.
"I'm not." You answer, frowning. "That's weird, right?"
"Yes! Yes, that's weird!" Alinua exclaims, her wings buzzing. "You look just like his incarnation, you were healing too fast— and that's Vash's sword! If you're not him, why do you have it?"
"I don't know how to explain it." You brush a hand over your healed-over wound, struggling to find your words. "I'm not Vash. I'm… what he left behind?"
Alinua's antennae raise, her expression doubtful.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"The first thing I remember clearly is waking up." You say, reaching towards Vash's databanks, buried in the back of your mind. "Before that, it's more like a dream."
"Vash was attacked. When he activated his incarnation, She was there to meet him. I don't know how, or why, but She tore him from it, from everything. The totality of his essence, freed from his destroyed fleet, was drawn into that blade."
The memory is one stained by a terror so suffocating you feel the echoes of it even now. A bitter anger writhes in your gut as you recall Her. How easily she destroyed everything he ever knew and loved, without a hint of remorse to show for it.
"She left his body abandoned— but his body was a war machine. It wasn't built to die quickly. It was damaged, soulless, empty… but still alive. And then, after a little while, I realized I existed."
The next memory, your memory, is nothing but that same unfamiliar terror, and the overwhelming realization that something terrible has happened.
"At first I didn't know where I was— What I was. It was bright, I was in pain— I had a body, but it wasn't mine. I had memories, but they were distant, like a story I'd been told. I didn't feel real. Nothing felt real. Then I heard him." Your hand finds the hilt of your sword, and you pull it from its sheath, staring down at the gem. "Vash, calling out from deep in space. He didn't know how I'd happened, but he didn't care. He needed help, and I was the only one listening."
Alinua stares, vaguely horrified.
"That's… who's She? How did She manage to destroy Vash?" Alinua asks, her antennae curling with distress.
You tighten your grip on your blade, taking a moment to recall the memories.
"I don't know her name. She was…strange. She had besieged the fleet for sindahlans with an army of chimerae. The people were cut off from help, starving and stranded. Vash had no choice but to step in."
Alinua listens quietly, her horror only growing with each word.
"She looked human— except for the eyes. She said she wanted Vash's soul, and she couldn't take it unless he didn't have a fleet anymore. Once she'd lured him out, she… used some kind of magic. The whole fleet collapsed. He tried to stop her, but she didn't even bleed."
"Oh." Alinua says, leaning back, her arms wrapped around herself. "Okay."
"But— you healed me. I might still have a chance of saving him." You continue, barreling forward, speaking quickly before Alinua has time to argue. "I know you have the Chimeric Plague. I know I'm probably too dangerous to be left on my own right now, so— I came up with a plan."
"A plan." Alinua echoes, clearly doubtful.
"I need to go after Vash."
"You may have mentioned."
"And you need to keep an eye on me, in case something goes wrong, right?" You ask. Alinua clicks, letting out a low noise that's probably the Flosekt version of a sigh.
"Yes."
"And I'm guessing you're pretty confident in your ability to stop me if I try and leave. Otherwise you would have put me somewhere more secure, and wouldn't let me access the cockpit and your ship's systems so easily." You gesture towards the terminal.
"I guess." Alinua agrees, looking away.
"Okay! So, this is my idea— Come with me!"
Alinua pauses, her gaze whipping back towards you.
"That is not a good idea." She protests immediately.
"Hear me out." You say, almost pleadingly. "Vash is empty— the fleet is gone, there's nobody left. Even if you lost control, the only person you'd hurt is me."
Alinua opens her mouth, but you keep going.
"And if it turns out I am turning into a monster, being in the city won't prevent you from stopping me. You can keep an eye on me, and I can go after Vash!" You finish, gesturing out the cockpit window and towards the stars beyond it. Vash is out there— your connection nothing but a faint whisper in the very back of your mind, but you know he's there.
Alinua… hesitates. She averts her gaze, her hands clasped together and antennae twitching.
"I have to find him, Alinua. It's getting harder for me to—"
"Okay." You stop as Alinua starts to speak. Maybe you convinced her after all. "We'll check it out. But we're not staying any longer than necessary."
You grin.