As she knocks, you glance up and greet Kanaya with the same lopsided smile you always wear when she’s near. Brushing your hair over your shoulder, you quickly stand to meet her–a brief dizzy spell striking you as you do so.
“Hey, hey. You ready to pop that fucker off?”
Resting very snugly on your forehead is a VR headset that’s keeping your hair from falling in your face. You jut your thumb at it, “Got a bit of practice in. Shouldn’t be too hard, so I wouldn’t, like. Worry or nothin’. Like I said before, I’m a lot better at dismantling things than I am at assembling them. Kinda like my weird specialty or somethin’. Anyway–”
You suck your teeth, suddenly aware of your prelude to rambling. A tool akin to a screwdriver in hand, you motion towards the padded bench you were just occupying. “Ain’t gotta just stand there, y’know.”
You always ramble when she’s around. It’s almost embarrassing. Almost.
“Uh. So. Yeah. Lemme get a look at it,”
You offer a smile, though your nerves grow a bit more as she refers to the extraction so casually. Popping it off, what a crude way to refer to such a terrifying eventuality. It’s more important that she feels comfortable; you know you won’t move, no matter how frightened you are. She needs to think you are fully confident in the outcome of this matter.
“Yes, of course.”
You move to sit on the bench, then pause, taking a moment to consider logistics. You breathe and remove your gloves, then the dress and hooded part of your outfit, chewing at your lip as you fold the latter over your arms.
“I need to take off my lower layer so you can get to the anklet. Would you mind terribly turning around for a moment?”
This was never an issue in the caverns, but then, Vriska is no jadeblood.
You’ve experienced the bulk of the last 30 or so hours through a lens blurred with exhaustion. Twenty-four hours ago, you were wide awake. Ten hours ago, it was the rush of adrenaline still keeping you alert. And now? You can feel the exhaustion gnawing around the edges; during moments of quiet, you slip in to and out of brief bouts of sleep.
Kanaya messages you. She wants to see you. You want to see her, too. The closeness of everyone else has kept you at bay. And the flurry of transitions and changes bade you give her space.
But now, she wants to talk. Alone, even. Her words.
You gather the tools you’ve collected over the last few weeks–precise little things that require a steady hand to wield with any effectiveness– and tinker with them while you wait for her to arrive.
You let yourself in quietly and watch for a moment as she messes around with her things; you itch to tap your foot nervously, but the conscious effort to keep yourself polite and silent helps you stifle the urge. Instead, you reach out a short distance to knock on the wall twice, not particularly loud.
You have not been on the Antares long, but already you are tired of going between the medical bay and the block that Vriska has set up for you. You find yourself pacing the hall, and your shock anklet goes off again under your jumpsuit and boot, a swift shock that lets you know that were you still aboard the Starscreech, your shift would be starting in 30 minutes.
You recently learned something rather unsettling about this device, and Vriska has stressed the importance of figuring out how to remove it and getting it done quickly. Your leg bounces as you lean against a metal wall, tapping your way through your messages to ask for an audience.
You want to see her. There’s an ache in you now that you felt every time you wrote her a letter, and you need to address it.
On second thought... it would be wise to wait until you’re sure you’ll survive. When she messages you back, you take a moment to steel yourself before you make your way to her, uncertainty gaining strength until the moment you arrive.
Good evening, fellow citizens. I’m Lescas Abaven, and you’re listening to Imperial Info On the Go.
Curiosity mounts this evening as the IFS Starscreech, pioneer of the latest technological breakthroughs in military energy efficiency, made an unscheduled landing on Empire-controlled Cassius 3 only hours ago.
One of the smaller occupied planets under Imperial domain, Cassius 3 is not equipped to receive a warship of such impressive size, and both soldiers and workers alike labored tirelessly on the hot surface to clear an area large for the ship to touch down.
Those present for the landing have described a feeling of pride and excitement at seeing the Starscreech - a long-time favorite in televised military parades - gracing their system, which is considered to be out of the way of most military and auxiliary travel routes.
We heard from a starstruck oliveblood at the scene, who couldn’t give us her name. “I’ve never seen anything like it! It was like a whole other planet, eclipsing the moon as it landed.”
Many are speculating now over the possible cause for the stop, with theories ranging from minor mechanical malfunction to a spontaneous rally to boost morale on Cassius 3, a strip-mining operation where the mortality rate of stationed troops is 45% higher than the Imperial planetside average.
Your vision strains against the lights of the ship’s hallways, which seem way too bright right now. Drops of blue blood are drying on your cheek as you rush through, not quite running. You’ve already attracted enough attention. All you hear is the thud of your footsteps, Kanaya’s breathing, and your pusher pounding in your ears. All you smell is blood. This isn’t as dramatic as you thought it’d be. That, or you’re in shock. Somehow, it hasn’t hit you that this is really, actually happening right now.
There is no option for you but to be ready. And of course, you are. The giddiness (85% likelihood) is still there and more intense now, and if you had a physical body, you’re sure that it’d be shaking. Good thing you’re just an Empire warship right now, right? You manage to ignore the intensity of the emotion, anyway, telling yourself that for you, it’s only a certain fluctuation in the neural network, and nothing real.
Kanaya messages you to let you know that she and Eridan are on their way to the helmsblock. You would have no way of knowing otherwise. Normally you could watch the security feeds to see anyone coming your way, but Hal already took care of that. He’s manipulated the camera feeds on your route from the helm to the airlock bay to show a loop of inconspicuous footage — you can’t see anything going on, but more importantly, no one else will.
You can’t see how Kanaya and Eridan are doing out there, though, which is nervewracking. As if your nerves aren’t wracked enough as it is.
You’re pacing back and forth - bag packed, essentials at the top. Eridan’s probably worse off than you are in terms of nerves, but for once, you can’t afford to focus on his needs over your own. You take a breath. Check the time. Send the message.
GA: We Are Going In 10
GA: Hal
GA: Are You Ready
TT: Yes, I'm ready.
TA: riight.
TA: iit2 been real ii gue22.
You take a deep breath and busy yourself cleaning the block as if it were any other night. Eridan’s area in order, your area practically nonexistent.
It seems like the blink of an eye before you’re slipping out the door, Eridan leading just ahead of you. It is a common sight for you to be looking at your datapad while you shadow him, but this time you’re just watching for any last second messages from Hal warning that you’re about to cross paths with crew.
TA: ok ii 2hould probably go delete my iinternet hii2tory. iim behiind liike twelve proxiie2 but you know ju2t iin ca2e.
You can’t help the crazed smile on your face - you try to stifle it. It strikes you all at once how wild this is - this is the most intensely terrifying thing you’ve done since you tried to walk to the public bookhive alone at age 3. Your criminal profile is jumping up from one count of a near-missed curfew to felony theft of military property, conspiracy to commit theft, desertion, conspiracy to commit desertion, accessory to at least one murder, treason, failure to report traitorous discourse, and the worst of all of this evening’s crimes, elopement.
Yes, you will be a hardened criminal by the time you leave here.
As you predicted, the guard assigned to the helmsblock abandoned his post a solid five minutes before shift change, which makes it all the more simple for you and Eridan to slip into the block with his credentials.
You’ve been in here often enough with Eridan that this should seem familiar, but looking at the block with the context of having to disassemble most of it to free its captor makes everything seem foreign. From where he’s suspended in the center of the room, Sollux’s head moves almost imperceptibly when the door slides closed.
"Oh, hey guys. Have I mentioned I don't like this plan and we don’t have to do it?”
The plasma saw is active in your hand before you can remember getting it out of your bag.
There is a part of you that feels impossibly giddy about this. More precisely, you register it as a particularly rare pattern currently occupying your neural network. Aside from the label of giddy, other possibilities are: an overwhelming nervousness, pure unadulterated rage, and profound existential certainty.
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