agogelogs | THE AMAZING BASE.

Entry tags:

THE AMAZING BASE.

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? There is also a fish. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

MYSTERY FISH;

question the mystery fish

DEPARTING GALLIPOLI

The order comes the day after the Marie Antoinette sets sail:

PACK UP AND GET READY TO MOVE OUT. WE'VE DONE ALL WE CAN HERE.

DEPLOYMENT: BASE.

WE NEED TO RESTOCK. BE PREPARED FOR MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.

STAY SAFE. TIME-STEP EXPECTED TO BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO COST: FIND A SECLUDED SPOT AND TRY NOT TO EAT ANYTHING BEFORE THE JUMP.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, just a hum of sensation.

But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomenon as "the buzz". The feeling builds, not unlike standing near a great engine or the wind-rattled branches of a massive tree. There is a long moment of motion sickness and you can't be sure if the world is shaking you from the inside out or the outside in. It may be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea, as the world blurs out of focus.

A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Others say they feel a touch of the divine, that the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle and nothing more than the suggestion of sound. Or maybe it's only an illusion, brought on by the powerful technology grafted into your skin.

One thing is for sure: One moment you are here and the next you are not.

The shift takes you from whatever solitude you could find aboard the Marie Antoinette to the temperature-regulated hallway of what looks like a very poorly put together space station. Droids rush up and down the long hallway, fixing broken bits of machinery or just chattering with each other. A few crows sit on high ledges, looking down and watching. Someone mutters something about a centaur around the corner.

And you might just notice, provided you were in Gallipoli long enough to acquire stowaways, that the parasites lurking on your skin are mercifully gone.

For new arrivals who didn't experience Gallipoli: You, too, will appear in this long hallway, filled with droids and crows and humans (still filthy and clad in ANZAC uniforms, carrying battered equipment from the first World War). And you'll be wearing the minimal COST-issued athletic underwear and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!

READ THE BASE INFOPAGE.

home away from home

Those who have been to BASE before may find a strangeness to it all: BASE seems...still. The windows show a verdant world instead of the usual aether (though with the typical paranoia), and the halls are bereft of all but a few crows. A man stands at the end of the long hallway you arrived in, waiting for you to get your bearings before he speaks.

Except, you know, he's not a man. He's a centaur.

"It's been barely a week since you left, by my reckoning. But for you, I'm sure, it's been much longer. Still, much has changed. You may have noticed we are...becalmed. This is due, it seems, to an error in our ways. We kept something that does not belong to us, several wild creatures that are meant to be free. They seem to have psychically called out to their home, and their home responded; we are now somewhat stranded.

"But let me explain—the Aether is the nexus between worlds and times, but it is not a dead thing. Creatures live in it. We have crashed onto the back of one such creature, a mighty beast, as large as a small country and entirely undiscovered. We have found why the creature has intercepted us: we have accidentally taken captive some of its children. Shapers, the wild creatures I mentioned, it seems they form a symbiotic bond with the creature, and live happily within its stomach."

He frowns, considering this.

"Shapers, I should mention, are creatures that briefly infested our fair BASE. The issue was dealt with, though we kept some for experimentation. The coelacanth took issue with this, it seems. It can speak, of course; we are stranded very near its head, and if you wish to ask it a question, I implore you to do so. The creature is older than creation—older than me—and only speaks once to any creature it encounters. It's said its wisdom brings kings to their knees."

His eyes crinkle in humor.

"My name is Chiron and I am the caretaker of this place, for those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting. More importantly, I am a trainer and a teacher of some experience; if you wish training or schooling of any sort, do summon me. I will be happy to assist."

He's easy to contact, often found in the library, the training area, his capsule, or elsewhere in the station, attempting to fix what he understands and arguing with crows.

"We intended to spend this time exploring, for this is a rare opportunity to discover more of an entirely uncharted world. I hasten you to see if anything on the coelacanth can be of use, but be careful. Take only what you need, not what you may want. I intend to learn my lessons well; these creatures are not pets. Takes food, water, and any materials of use to us for our survival and perseverance, but no more. We task you with this: explore the coelacanth, and see what of it can be understood. Bring us back samples, but do try to interrupt the natural habitat as little as possible. We are guests here."

He bows and the action shows a slight limp in one of his back legs.

"I would join you, but I am far too old for such activities. Still, do pepper me with any questions you should encounter. I am always available on the network, or in person, within this hulking mass we call home."

And then he leaves you to find your capsules and rest.

CAPSULE ASSIGNMENTS

Once you've found your room and settled in—perhaps taken a shower, collected clothes, and eaten—a droid will approach you with camping equipment and give you a brief explanation of how to access and use the database. It's time to get your gear and go.

Of course, you can decline. You can stay and tend to the fort, maybe try and clean up this patchwork jumble of metal and machinery. But seeing the sights on the back of a giant fish flying through non-space? Who can say no to that?

the undiscovered country.

BASE's airlocks open into a lush valley, vibrant with color and rustling with life that has thrived on the coelacanth's back for millennia. It's a striking shift from the rot and gunfire of Gallipoli, unmarked by shrapnel, bombshells, and never-fresh air.

No, the air here is clean in a way that can leave you breathless, untouched by pollutants and stirred into a gentle breeze. It's a marked departure for anyone used to a more modern Earth or rough equivalent; letting the air sit on your tongue leaves a crisp, unsullied taste behind. And the whole forest feels alive, in a way that reminds you of how small you really are.

A white crow perches in a tree near BASE's exit, too high up to properly engage but a stark contrast to the bright leaves around her. She merely watches recruits come and go with a shrewd eye, feathers fluffed against the light chill. There are other crows scattered throughout the wilderness, some easier to find than others as they flit through the trees, sit on camping equipment, or hitch rides on the hoverbikes.

Besides those brief flashes of black feathers, however, you're left unsupervised.

Try not to fuck up anything too badly.

EXPLORE:INFOPAGE|DATABASE
talk to a fish | destruction report

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"In so many words, yes," Chiron confirms. It wasn't anything he couldn't take care of, but the amount of effort expended would not be worth it. Would have been far worse, given what happened with his Master and the entire Regency nightmare.

It is a shame that not even stars align correctly in order to explain himself. While it speaks of how far away Hux's home is from his own, it is impossible not to be frustterated.

"Your Fathiers sound more like horses then. But I suppose that means they're some kind of extremely distant relation, if they are."

"I suppose--though again, given we are from a different Galaxy, it is difficult to tell." It is interesting, how these sorts of things can cause difficulty. He thought it was going to be technology, not fauna that was going to be the issue.

Still, there is nothing for it. It is something that is better left aside; he could research it later. "Would you be interested in going into the caves with me? Or is it something that would be more difficult for you to do, given your current state?"

"I would not be down this particular path if I didn't feel the desire to go in deeper. I am also capable of transforming back into human form at this point, as the magic that enables it has completed it's 24 hour re-set period."

He simply was going to avoid that change unless he absolutely had to.

"...ah, so you have to recharge, as it were?" Hux was curious for the sake of it, yes, but he was also gathering additional information; it was always something that could be useful--he didn't know much about the Force beside what he had learned from being around Kylo and Snoke. Other magic was foreign to him, so learning about it was important as well.

"Well, I suppose I should lead the way, then?" Hux quirked a little smirk, starting into the mouth of the cave; after all, he had more sure footing on the rocks, he would think, than slick hooves.

"Yes, that'd be an appropriate way to put it." And far easier to use as an explanation than the mouthful of words he just said. Either way, Chiron filed it for later use.

"By all means."

Chiron's body was no stocky shetland pony made for this kind of terrain (even if the proportions of such a shape would be quite delightful in a comedic sort of way), but Greece wasn't a flat place at all and his own home was on a mountain. He was more than ready.

Taking out his torch, Hux flicked on the switch, shining the light around his feet as he walked. He would prefer not to use it at all, but keeping sure footing was important--he'd rather not slip in this place, even with someone who might be able to help him out, or heal him. Still, by keeping the light down, the strange dark beauty of the place was still visible, the dim light filtering through cracks and open areas where the ceiling had fallen through.

"It's so strange, that this is all on the back of a creature."

"Strange, yes, but I think a small miracle as well."

Chiron moved slowly behind Hux, keeping a half a foot or so between them. It was meant to ensure that if he fell, there wouldn't be a domino effect. That with his centaur form was bad for everyone involved.

"Who might have ever expected this, after all. And we should be so lucky to see even a fraction of what has come to be in this unique ecosystem."

"One man's miracle is another man's science." As there must be a scientific reason for this. Hux continued forward, the failures in the roof giving way to smooth rock and cool darkness, moss and vines hanging here and there, somehow still thriving.

"There are creatures where I come from, called Exogorth. They live on planets, but one could be swallowed and not even know it. They have creatures that live there...almost habitat-like stomachs. I imagine this must be something like that." He'd never see an Exogorth in person, but...yes, unique.

"There are always special, unique things in the Galaxy. One simply has to find them."

"Science should never be so cold as to not leave room for wonder or awe." Which had been Chiron's point with his terminology. It was strange to him how hard Hux seemed to cling to this cool, detatched view that looked down on certain elements of the world (gods, for example) even with suggestions that his thinking might not entirely be correct.

But his explanation of the concept of Exogorths is completely distracting. "...Fascinating. A world inside, rather than out. They're uncommon, then?"

"I don't disagree--but that doesn't make it a miracle." Hux looked back, a twitch of a smile on his lips. There were things that had always held his wonder--and watching the Starkiller finally fire was...it had been nearly a religious experience for him, he supposed. But speaking about that was very private; he supposed most of these things would be private for people.

Or perhaps just for people like him.

Hux hummed slightly, listening to the sound of water dripping on rock. "We think they are, yes--the difficulty is, many who find them don't survive them. There is only so much time to get out of something's stomach. They often live on asteroids, so you will never find one in the same place twice."

"I suppose I'm just more willing to apply the term more broadly." Anything else is just getting into a semantics argument, and Chiron can't say that he's in the mood for one of those. Regardless, he keeps apace with Hux, straining his own ears for anything that ay be up ahead.

Or behind, one could never discount that.

"Well, if one's in a stomach, a low survival rate would only make sense. If there's a particular composition of the asteroid that they're attracted to though, perhaps that might give some hint."

Hux is not attempting to get into semantics; he genuinely enjoys these conversations, but he also understands that his love of minutia can be annoying to others--there is more than a few reasons why he doesn't have many people close to him in his own world.

Still, he lets the subject drop, frowning a bit as he hears some sound of an animal, but decides it isn't anything dangerous.

"It is a logical conclusion--so far we haven't found an correlation. But again, there are so few samples it is hard to draw any sort of extrapolation." After a few beats, he snorts, shaking his head. "Forgive me, I often speak like a detracted creature. The enlisted corps actually started a rumor that I was an android because of it."

Andro...robots. Chiron pauses, reflecting on his past conversations with Hux. In truth, he can absolutely see how one could get to that conclusion. It was, perhaps, a little too easy of a journey, and it speaks more of Hux than the men that work under him.

"If one holds himself at a distance, that easily gives rise to such talk," he comments, hooves echoing behind him.

"But I also presume the aloofness is intentional, or do I misread you?"

Hux rolls his shoulders slightly, silent for a moment as they continue walking, not answering Chiron's question right away. He wasn't wrong--there were ways that Hux had built armor around himself to protect himself from things that might otherwise harm him. His stoic demeanor was one of those--though it had been cracking as of late, due to so many events out of his control. Luckily, here, he was starting to get it back to something manageable, at least.

Finally, he spoke, disliking a bit how his voice echoed in these strange natural caverns. "It is, yes. Most of my work involves having to be around people who are looking for any opportunity to use a weakness against someone." Loyalty only goes so far, and there are only two people in the First Order he trusts implicitly. "I may seem immutable to others...but after all, not all armor is physical."

"I see. It doesn't sound like an enjoyable space to occupy, in truth."

If Hux took offense, then so be it. For Chiron, it was a statement of his own observations. Be they gods or men, the higher someone's position, the more concerned for maintaining that spot they became. He had the luxury of being far outside those kinds of positions, and not once did he ever feel a pang of jealousy or a desire to make it otherwise.

"How do you maintain your own well being then?"

"I do what I can, because I must. I enjoy what my position allows me to do, to control--to lead our people in the cause. My personal feelings and life don't really matter in that scheme." Though he knows he's not being entirely truthful; he finds pride in what he does, triumph in each win he gains for himself--and each failure cuts. Now that Kylo has taken the place that was rightfully his, it stung.

But still, let people hate him, love him, be annoyed with him--it didn't matter. He know he had respect, despite all of that--and that was what mattered.

At the last comment, though, Hux snorted, flushing a bit when he realized it sounded a bit hysterical.

"I don't know, frankly. I suppose one day I'll crack. But it hasn't happened yet." He can crack when he's dead, crack into a million pieces, ash to be scattered into the wind.

For some reason, Chiron wasn't expecting an actuall response that gave such a level of detail. But he recieved it anyway, and it's an interesting insight into Hux - far more than anything he's seen so far. Well, it isn't a surprise, that so far given what he's just explained.

Chiron's movements slow as they move deeper into the cave, his own ears picking up some kind of...well. It's some kind of noise but he can't quite ping what it is or the source thereof.

He allows for a few moments for Hux's words to settle before replying. Especially that life comment. That's the kind of thing that deserves a moment's contemplation. "That is a remarkable sort of dedication. Not everyone can find that sort of ability within them."

If Chiron knew what Hux's people, what his cause was about, he'd have a very different opinion indeed. But living in ignorance, well, it is what it is.

"You hear that faint song as well, yes?"

Hux was a bit surprised he responded as well; then again, being around people who weren't attempting to stab him in the back at the earliest chance was one of the strangest situations he had ever been in. Even as a child he had been taught to be ready to take out another's throat because every other person was just waiting to take out yours.

Here...it wasn't like that. He knew that was only due to their short-sighted nature, their desire to 'help' in ways that he believed made them soft...but Hux still found the adjustment a bit more awkward than he thought it would be.

"No, I suppose they don't. But it's my destiny to rule the Galaxy, one day. I've known it since I was young--and I've worked to earn it since." There is pride in his voice, and he means every word. It isn't easy, and he knows it might be 'lonely', but he doesn't care--it's what he wants.

Still, when Chiron shifts the subject, Hux pauses, and strains to listen, frowning.

"...I do, yes. The echo makes it difficult to pinpoint where it is coming from exactly, however."

Galaxy. That's too big a kingdom for any man. But the opportunity to ask about that, because it seems so broad a responsibility, is gone. How did planets retain their culture, never mind individual countries or even tribes?

Chiron's ears strain, and he holds up a palm in Hux's direction to request quiet while he tries to determine the correct direction. He is quiet, and one finger bounces around the area as if tracing the surfaces that would cause the echoes to bounce.

"I think I've got it," he says finally, pointing to their upper left. "That way."

Hux stays completely silent, letting Chiron sort it out; perhaps being part...horse? he has better ears than a human. It wouldn't surprise him, frankly--Hux has never considered his ears particularly special, anyways.

Giving a nod, Hux adjusts his direction, keeping his voice more toned down, walking slower, every twenty steps to stop and check for the sound again.

"I wonder if it is a wise idea to go towards such a thing." And yet, he certainly isn't stopping.

"If not now, when will the opportunity arise again?"

It isn't quite a fuck it, let's go but the ballpark is close enough. Chiron tries to ensure his hooves are as soft as possible as to not disturb any tracking-by-sound.

Deeper into the route, color begins to play on the wall. There is sunlight filtering in, but something else too, something with the greenish-blue hue of a peacock. It means they're getting close to the source of the matter (a lux arbor, quite large and quiet old).

"I suppose it won't." Though Hux would like to point out that those are words often said by people who die soon after.

Still, Hux continues forward, and as they get closer, and they finally come upon the tree, he stops, frowning.

It's--it's unlike anything he's ever seen before. There are things within him that would tell him that it is dangerous; nothing that beautiful could be safe. But there is something that curls up within him that calms him--and it doesn't feel like a false calm that a predator might use to subdue prey. It feels more natural and safe than that, like something lost to his memory.

Hux moved in closer, skirting the large pond that is to the left of the tree, wanting to touch the branches, the leaves himself, feeling compelled to do so.

Remembering he is not alone, Hux looks back at Chiron, quirking an eyebrow. "...do you feel that?" Perhaps it only effects humans.

"I do."

Chiron barely has words though. The light, the coloration, everything about the tree is beyond words for him. None of the nymphs he encountered in his lifetime could put on a display as beautiful and magnificent as this.

He moves through the little bit of water around the tree, barely noticing that his hooves get wet. It is then and only then that Chiron has the right state of mind to actually look the damn thing up.

"...Ah, this plant is apparently harmless."

Hux hadn't even bothered to look it up; given his normal reaction to these sorts of things, it shows how affected he is by the tree. Once he's close enough, his fingers brush over the trunk of the tree, relishing in the sensation.

"What else does it say?" He glances back at Chiron, his face slack and easy-for once ungarded and open, looking much younger than he usually does.

Chiron scrolls through the BCE quickly enough, although in truth he's only half paying attention. The tree is much more fascinating.

"That..well, the singing is normal, and that the sense of calm remains even after one walks away from the tree. Usually equal to the amount of time one stands near it."

It's a plant that Chiron feels complimented by. His own nature is something that exudes a sense of deep calm, and so to have something similar, something this outwardly relaxing, it feels right.

Curiosity is the word of the hour though, and he reaches up to bring a branch to eye level so he can examine the bark. "It must have no natural predators because of it's very nature."

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