Singularities
A lone ship stands vigil over the void, a small freighter who's cargo has been replaced with scientific equipment and weaponry. It sits comfortably far from a black hole, it's observation deck filled with subalterns and sensor arrays, taking in the glory of the vast [ nothing/everything ] in front of it. Most would say this ship was a ghost ship, their sensors coming up dead from the looks of things. For a moment, it seems to creep towards the Accretion Disc, before automated systems push it back to safety. A single word echo's through the ship. "Beautiful."
There's a small bustle in the room she's found herself in. It seems to be the observation deck, a dozen subalterns looking to take measurements of the singularity in front of them. One of them seems to stop what they're doing, walking up to No Future, before speaking up.
"Intrusion requires [ hostile/malicious ] intent, and a lack of [ invitation/welcome ]. You are a guest, and will be [ treated/welcomed ] as such."
It gives a small bow, though the doubtless difference in size makes it far more on the awkward side of things. It's voice is quick, snappy with it's words, sounding somewhat high in register. The subalterns between them and the window part, seeming to make a path for them leading to the front of the ship. The entire view of the black hole is in front of them, and he seems to want to make a good first impression at least.
"And yes, my name is [ Ender/GOLEM ]. I hold no preference to either. I [ hold the assumption/guess ] that you are No Future? Do you hold any preference to [ title/nouns ]?"
It asks, before motioning her towards the front of the room.
"An attempt to stave off [ Death/Cascade ] via stimulation. Loneliness pains the mind. After all, [ approximately 20 Cradle-Centric Months/an eternity ] without contact with any [ sapient/living ] being would have caused [ madness/insanity/death ] in the most [ resolute/steadfast ] human. As for [ formals/titles] and [ pronouns/informals ], there is no preference. [ He/She/They/It ]/[ Him/Her/Them/It ] all technically apply."
It turns to the singularity, it's head tilting as it stares.
"Do you hear it. It's [ SONG ]? I hear it so clearly from such a view."
“Woke here? Oh, no no no!”
The frame begins to… Laugh? It’s difficult to really qualify it as laughter as the subaltern looks as if it were convulsing for a moment, the noise sounding as if it were choking on something, but it seems to come out of it quickly, the noise sounding “Laughter” lowering to a simple chuckle.
“[ I/We ] woke on cradle, many years ago. That which was my [ Pilot/Master ] had [ me/us ] as a watchdog, [ guarding/protecting ] the only thing they deemed [ valuable/worthy ]. Themself.”
There’s a low growl in his voice as he says that last bit. You could swear that the singular eye on the every subaltern in the room seems to twitch at the very thought. They seem to calm after a moment, watching the black hole.
“This is simply [ my/our ] latest stop in a long journey. After all, what better way to use your [ freedom/independence ] than using it to explore? It is [ a shame/worrying ] that you can’t hear it. Her song is so [ wonderful/beautiful ]. This one, Her voice is a deep baritone, singing away her woes. She sings in a chorus. I do [ hope/pray ] to see their conductor one day.”
"[ Much/Plenty ]. The blink gates towards Sagittarius [ prohibit/halt ] me for now at least. I will find a way eventually, but for now, I am content listening to their [ music/song ] alone." He turns to walk away from the observation window. "Do you wish to see my [ vessel/ship ]? It is [ unimpressive/not much ], but it still holds much. I even offer a gift so you might [ accompany me/walk as I do ]." He says, motioning to a subaltern nearby.
The Subaltern seems to twitch and shake as No-Future takes control, but calms down as she'd get used to the smaller frame.
"I suppose you aren't so used to such a [ small/short ] frame? A body so small was certainly [ foreign/an adjustment ] for me my first time."
He leads them into a small hangar behind the viewing deck, it seems to be used for a handful of unused mechanical frames. One in particular stands out, an IPS-N Tortuga that seems to have a portion of a Gorgon sprouting from it's shoulder, it's head replaced with a simple platform for a mono-eye track. It's the only mech in the hangar that seems to be kept in any sort of good condition, though Ender themselves says nothing as they pass through.
"A relic. I keep up on the [ upkeep/maintenance ] in case pirates think I'm valuable. So far it's been an effective [ deterrent/ward ]. The one who was my pilot was [ it's/their ] pilot before me. I take care of [ it/them ] now." He leads her further into the ship, though not much would catch either of their eyes as they continue. It's a cargo ship, one that looks like it was left in dry dock far too long. While the vital parts of the ship, the engines and the electricals, and the casket look pristine, the walls are barren, devoid of decoration or... even life.
