<//> Hamanushorigin vessel emits a very small time-space ripple, but the Debt tole upon the drive is heavy…;; Calculating… ;; Sufficient amount repaid to reach coordinates, remain where you are, we will come to you.<//>
"Preparing the Drive now." The Ancilla announced, suddenly driven to quickness by this new purpose. Whisper could feel the excitement crawl across every inch of her skin. Yet her expression remained as stoic as it always was and had been after receiving her second mutation.
For most, a second mutation was as far as they would ever reach. Third mutations were uncommon, and fourth were almost unheard of. Of all her rate, only two were given such honor. Faber, and one of his ancestors. She scoured her memory for the name, but even Arrival could not help her. The Domain had fallen so much, wracked with a sadness so deep and debilitating, that she could only assume upon the Activation, it had become no more. Neither were able to access it any longer. It left her nervous, and in the time she had spent since being brought out of Stasis was unable to bring herself to proper meditation.
Meditation was far more important to the Forerunners than even sleep. Hence their Combat Skins negating that necessity for as long as the occupant kept it on.
The ships minuscule drive could be heard rumbling to life beneath her feet, stashed away in it’s belly. As it prepared itself, Whisper could see the rupture beginning to form at the nose of the ship and the moment it was fully formed, the time-space jump was made.
It did not feel as though anything more than a moment had passed, and knowing that this Lifeworker vessel was not half way across the galaxy, Whisper was confident assuming the jump had not taken long to complete.
Hope Amongst the Black— as were all Lifeworker research vessels— was not that big. They lacked armaments, only defensive shielding for more…natural threats.
<//> Jump successful. Please direct us to the nearest available hangar. <//>
Quiet Steps snapped awake to a flashing light and the soft sound of a proximity alarm going off, the glow of blue light fading in and out from the central console. The small green hologram of his ancilla sat cross-legged atop the control panel, tilting its head as it noticed that was roused. A quiet noise left it, and it blinked out of existence, addressing Quiet Steps within his own mind.
You have not slept since you were a child. You must be quite distraught to use unconsciousness as an escape.
Its voice was quiet, caring, but not enough to summon a response from the Lifeworker. A blackness had settled over his demeanor, the overhanging shadow of three million fertile worlds turned into all so much ash, endless diversity lost in an instant and replaced by a pale replica of what glory there used to be.
We have visitors, you know. Would it not be inappropriate if you failed to greet them?
The proper docking authorization and available landing locations had been sent to Arrival nearly as soon as the ancilla had requested, and the human ship was likely close to finishing its docking procedures. It was true that Hope Amongst the Black was a rather small vessel, harboring only a bare minimum of two hangar bays. Thankfully for Whisper, they had not held any craft in a long time. All non-essential material had gone to the war effort after all, including using Lifeworker singe-ships for spare parts to keep the Warrior-Servants flying.
Quiet Steps rose from his chair, the energy wraps around his hands and face shimmering slightly and his armor glow taking on an odd purple in confusion. They had visitors? Was his ancilla attempting to play a joke upon him? A brief flash of anger at the sheer inappropriateness of such a thing flooded his armor with crimson light, the standard coloring holding no hope of keeping its place in a time of such rapidly cycling and intense emotion.
"What do you mean, 'we have a visitor?'"
A Builder. She is the starboard hangar bay at this very moment. She only just arrived.
It wasn't an instant process for the Lifeworker to take in the information, a mix of joy and skepticism fighting for control of his mind, finally melting in a pool of bubbling frustration that pained him and nearly brought a tear of grief to his eyes. Not answering his ancilla, he let himself rise off the floor and drift over to the door control, palming it and exiting into the hallway outside. The entrance to the hangar bay was not far off, Quiet Steps palming the panel again without an idea of what cruel ploy was hidden behind it.
