> Mituna: Blast off.
Yeah, yeah, you get it. You're on a boat, motherfucker, don't you ever forget.
Damara's suffering and you know it. Every second that goes by is another second where she's kept from death, and she deserves it after all this time. So, precarious situation ensured in your favour, you begin to organise the pieces so that they fall in the most advantageous manner. The first order of business—goading Meenah into wanting to destroy Damara—has been completed. Next, you have to bring them into the same point in space. To that end, you've got the warp drive spooled, and your coordinates focused on where she's going to be.
The jump completes and there's a nagging tug of resistance from spacetime, like something isn't right in the air. But what could that possibly be?
You shrug it off. It's probably nothing. The ghosts in the system that talk to you every day, bleeding into your consciousness, your bliss and your pain and your frustration and your anger and your peace and your hatred and your love all balling up into one thing and that thing is you, even though those parts of you have long been pawned off into spare brains.
Then again, those extra brains are all part of you now. Damn, it's good to be smart.
You send a message over Trollian to her clamtop, or whatever the fuck it is she's using to communicate these days. The intercom is available, but you'd rather not announce to the entire ship that Something Big is about to go down. So you opt for a more private message.
-- thanatismAverted [TA] began pestering condescendingCrownbearer [CC] -- TA: we're pulling in t0 the rendezv0us p0int. l00ks like y0u're g0ing t0 get y0ur sh0t at aa after all.