^{Open Void, Tigris Sector
Voidship Nova Dawn
147181.5 Universal Standard Chronology}

Nova Dawn drifted lazily through the open Void, coasting on impulse power in the inky expanse between the stars. An ancient vessel of unknown origins, it resembled an abstract monument of brassy metal and azure crystalline formations that had been turned onto its side. There was no effort made to disguise its presence; it was essentially safe here, for as safe as any part of the treacherous Void could be. Tigris Sector was a lawless zone, far outside the domain of any empire with the resources to enforce its will on interstellar space. That essentially made it a haven for pirates, who flocked to the sector's few ports and voidstations to conduct their business. Repair docks, shipyards, trade depots, and a variety of other facilities clung to and sprawled from these few settlements like scavengers on a carcass. Outlaws from sectors of the known Void and beyond mingled here, and though the Spacer Guilds did their best to work with their many cultures and currencies (off the books, of course), there was always some commotion to be found.

Having just left Acturis Voidstation, Nova Dawn sailed at a leisurely pace out of the Acturis system. With no authorities to prey on them for many parsecs, the crew was able to rest for a short while. While Tigris Sector was not without its skirmishes between pirates, most knew well enough to leave the ominous, aberrant ship alone. Restocking their supplies, refueling, performing minor repairs, and allowing the crew some time "on shore" had done well for Nova Dawn's morale, but had emptied its coffers, and it was time for it to venture forth into the Void once more to seek its fortune.

A bell sounded through the ship's decks, soon followed by the Captain's voice, "Now hear this: bridge officers to the archives at once. I repeat: bridge officers to archives at once." While the ship's address system did not carry the unnerving, ethereal quality of Captain Mandragora's voice, hearing him speak was still enough to send a shiver down the spine of most of the crew.

The ship's archives were ostensibly where its travel logs, financial records, and navigational computers were stored and maintained, but Nova Dawn hid an additional secret in the small, sequestered room. Here the inscrutable intellect of the Aetherial Lexicon could be accessed, and much work was done to decipher its ancient cants and codes. Few but the innermost circle of officers aboard the ship even knew of the Lexicon's existence, and so those summoned knew the true purpose of the Captain calling a meeting in the archives. He had found something in the Lexicon.

As the officers arrived, they found the Captain waiting at a small drawing table, notes, books and writing implements scattered about him. It seemed that while the rest of the crew had enjoyed shore leave, he had cooped himself up in here, working on a particular scrap of information gleaned from the ship's vast databanks. His long hair, normally straight and silky-smooth, was matted and tangled in places, but otherwise he showed no signs of wear and fatigue. As ever, he carried himself with preternatural poise, sometimes seeming as though his physical form was not truly there. Even so, his gaze and his aura carried more than enough presence; a commanding atmosphere of centuries-old power and a wealth of experience.

"Valkyr Sector," He said, his voice ringing even in the small room, "Not far outside of Arc Luminous space, but mostly uncharted. Cosmic gigantiform activity too strong to permit colonization, and its position too remote to demand timely cartography. The Lexicon tells me of planet Eris in this sector, and of the treasure we may find there: the 'Titan Hammer.' I have ascertained its coordinates, and I plan for this to be our next destination. I await your concerns, if you possess any."

Meanwhile...

Nova Dawn's kitchens and supply stores were aflutter with activity as they restocked their vital supplies. They had to be inventoried, sorted, and stored in the appropriate sections of the ship. Vital tasks to ensure that some deckhand didn't start drinking antifreeze after thinking it was a sweet beverage, or they didn't somehow cross-contaminate the food to accidentally create a neurotoxin. However, the ship's cook had other priorities. He had managed to acquire through some shady dealings a rare Gnomish Swine from the Caliban Sector, and a variety of illegal Belladonnan spices and garnishes. He had planned a mighty feast to congratulate the crew on their most recent smuggling run, and would be combining these secretive ingredients into an experimental new dish. However, he needed to briefly test the dish before he served to the crew, to avoid another unfortunate mass-poisoning. To this end, he had gathered up a few stray crew members to taste-test this new main course.

As his victims waited in the galley, Cookie returned to the kitchen to check on the Swine, which he had been feeding some of the garnishes to begin marinating it from the inside out. However, he had come to find not only the beast broken out from its cage (which seemed to have erupted by the work of a creature much larger than what he had purchased), but the rest of his garnishes had been eaten as well. This was a strange predicament, to be sure, and would likely delay dinner by at least a few hours.

^{Voidshop Nova Dawn, Security Office to Aetherial Lexicon.
@Dead Cruiser}

---

The security office never was easy on the eyes - androids never had great artistic taste, after all. A desk sat to one side, with not a single bit of paper out of line. In the center of the room was a meager poker table and at the other side, a great many terminals depicting security camera footage from across the ship, with one large one for focusing. A pair of crewmen sat at the poker table, enjoying a lazy game of cards over lunch, while another four sat at the terminals sifting through the footage; it was a big ship after all, and even with four they were relying on alarms and trips - making a mutiny all the more difficult to stop before it starts.

Eleven sat at her chair behind the desk, idly browsing news articles to pass the time. As she shifted and felt her tee-shirt and plain pants sweeping over her "skin" a little, she grimaced - she'd always been uncomfortable wearing clothes and she was always outspoken about it; not that she could help it, she was made and programmed with the intention of not wearing anything - it was just another thing for the enemy to grab onto, after all. It was times like these she sighed, pressed out some of the creases in her shirt, and took a moment to focus: there aren't any enemies on board, and according to her senior staff, it "inhibited the performance of nearby crew."
"Unfortunately necessary.." she muttered to herself, before she returned to her news articles-

"Now hear this: bridge officers to the archives at once. I repeat: bridge officers to archives at once."
Eleven's line of thought was interrupted by the announcement. Granted, she wasn't a bridge officer, but she knew what it meant. She abruptly moved to stand, sending her chair sliding out behind her as she whisked up her sword and scabbard from besides her desk. A small jointed arm on her back reached over to take it - yet another aftermarket modification, so she might draw from where she pleases - where it jointed with the scabbard and nestled it comfortably and out of her way against her back.
"King, you're on." fired Eleven as she stepped through the security door. One of the two men at the poker table - a dark-skinned man with no hair on his head to speak of and a build resembling Hercules - let out a scoff as he slammed his cards against the table; which, for the record, was a terrible hand.
"You got it, El." came back the man as he moves to stand, before starting his merry way over towards the desk.

Shortly after...

Eleven was punctual with her arrival, as usual. Upon entry, she found herself a spot by the drawing table and she waited - to no surprise, stiff-lipped and silent throughout the exchange.
"I await your concerns, if you possess any." concluded the Captain. It was at this point Eleven spoke up, certainly wasting no time in doing so:
"Do we know exactly what this is? This 'Titan Hammer'?" asked Eleven, as she folded over her arms and shifted her weight to the other leg.

Nova Dawn, crew quarters > Archives room

---

“Void, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the pirate Mad Bat. His many-year mission to raid strange new ships, to seek out new booty and new plunder, to boldly slaughter what none have slaughtered before.” The Mad Bat mused.

He wandered the crew quarters his ear twitching every time he stepped. While shore leave had been a fantastic relief, a night with Sapkir “port mates’ always helped, He was on edge from the recent lack of action. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but being cooped up without anything to do could get on his nerves. There were bounties to be taken and yet there was no word on their next target. The captain hadn’t even been heard from when they were in port.

Perhaps it would be a good time to take his own bounty. He knew the ship's larder would be freshly stocked, and fresh meat was always better than the preserved stuff, obviously excluding the legendary human food “bacon jerky”. Somehow their ancient ancestors managed to create the tastiest preserved food ever. It was possibly the only contribution that humans had made that kept them from being eradicated as a useless lesser species.

Valk was halfway to the kitchen when the intercom went off. He audibly groaned expecting to hear that preachy amazon. She always came off as preachy to him and her voice grated on his ears. If she really was a born warrior she was a poorly made one. Anyone who had to think to fight was wasting energy.

Instead, it was the captain. Finally, there might be some useful news. He was about to turn and head for the archives, but his stomach growled. The kitchen wasn’t far, and the cook had mentioned something or other about fresh meat on the menu tonight. Valk couldn’t decide this easily. Should he sneak into the kitchen to eat the or actually do his duties and see what the captain planned? He paced his tail tapping his chin. He was torn. The primal hunter in him demanded fresh meat, but his conniving pirate wanted to play the long game. In the end, Valk chose to tough it out. If all went well he’d be feasting on lesser species in no time.

Valk was an outlier among the other officers. He had no unique title on this ship, but his experience and kill count were their own title. While everyone had experience Valk was literally born a pirate. He was the most “piratey” pirate that ever pirated on this vessel and he made that known. As well the fact that the last time he was left out of a meeting he had started eating through the meat stores gave the captain a good reason to keep the Sapkir occupied. The profit made by Valk often far exceeded his costs.

Upon entering the archive Valk grimaced. Once again he was being foiled by one of his dreaded enemies, the nefarious table. While everyone else gathered easily viewing what the captain displayed Valk struggled to get a vantage. After a whole two seconds of thinking, he determined there was no other choice and fired his hook into a ventilation grate in the ceiling. Reeling it in Valk now hung from his tail above everyone’s heads and could view what the captain laid out. Books, why did it have to be books? Valk would roll his eyes, but his lack of visible pupils made the gesture pointless. While certainly unamused by the thought of thinking Valk dared not speak against the captain. Even he knew there was a food chain to obey. Most of the crew were appetizers at best, some worthy prey, but the captain he was another predator.

Despite his initial disinterest, Valk’s ears perked up at the mention of the sector, and they stood straight up when the “Titan Hammer” was mentioned. He had absolutely no clue what it was, but anything with a name like that either could kill a lot of people or buy a lot of jerky. When the captain asked for concerns Valk was ready to answer but was beaten by their security officer who had to go about being asking reasonable questions like the joy-killing robot she was.

"Do we know exactly what this is? This 'Titan Hammer'?" She blabbed on.

"If the captain wants it does it really matter? Anything with “titan” in its name usually is worth the bother. Well unless it's just a big hammer. Please tell me it isn’t just a big hammer.” Valk quickly replied in his ever sarcastic voice, “Besides gigantiform life sounds delicious!”

---

Kell bobbed and swayed offbeat to the rhythm of a slow and flowing tune drifting carelessly out of the speakers. The sounds vibrated smoothly, carrying throughout the cockpit as the reptilian pilot stared off into the void through vertically slit pupils. His hands pressed no buttons, and remained off of the piloting console while he drifted with the ship, flowing free. He tapped his feet and moved his arms, feeling himself realize the full potential of the music he was listening to. His personal adventure down through fascinating noises created by human hands went undisturbed.

"Um... What are you listening to?" A high pitched female voice spoke up with no small amount of judgment.

Undisturbed until now.

"Not now, Momo. I am flowin'."

"Flowin'? I guess that's one word for it. You look like you're swimming-ish, but more like a, kinda' like... like a fish on land!"

The reptilian pilot tilted his head to look at his mechanical arm, and the bright pink light emitting from it. He detested the color, but Momo insisted and would have nothing else. Pink was fabulous, she said.

"Call it what you want, but I'm just riding this tide, popping fives back on cloud nine."

"What does that even mean?"

Kell paused. "I don't know, but it sounds dope."

"So you're saying it sounds stupid. Good! I think so too."

"No! That's not what it means!" He started, only calming when he realized that Momo was simply being her proficient self in fanning his anger. "Dope means good, excellent, interesting. It's some sort of mixture of positive themed words in specific humanoid dialects."

"Mmm. Fascinating."

"You just don't understand."

"No, no, I do." Momo delved into the database of information Kell regularly updated within his arm's computer. "So, when they say 'dopesauce' it means that it's a thick liquid of excellent-ness?"

Kell shook his head. "Same meaning, just a different usage of the word. At least that's how I've been looking at it. These humans have an amazing form of language."

"Yeah, it's like, totally dopesauce."

"Don't ever say dopesauce again."

"Dope-"

Kell muted her. He sat back in relief, and eased back into the music. The Nova Dawn's systems made their steady hum, but Kell felt like the ship itself was purring in appreciation. With one hand raised he placed his palm against the wall, feeling what he considered to be the 'soul in the machine'. "Drives me crazy too, Bubba. Every damn day."

A beep came from his arm. "How completely rude! Wait, you finally named the ship and you called it Bubba? Bubba, seriously?"

"Good a name as any. It's strong. Steady. Ain't that right, Bubba? Yeah, that's right. You're one sexy motherfucker too, ain't ya'?"

"I'm going to pretend I never heard you say that."

Kell's lip curled into a smile just as Sulk's voice came over the comms. Sulk had a way of making him stop and listen. He couldn't decide whether it was his voice, his dangerous mystique, or the mysterious presence he considered ominously threatening. Or maybe it was more like the songs he'd listened to stated. It was Sulk's natural state of being, everything is part of the whole. And that whole could be frightening, and Kell would know. He'd dealt with Cronus war beasts for the better part of his lifetime, and their voices could make any being tremble with fear. But, he lived on a pirate ship, piloted a pirate ship, and dealt with a myriad of the Void's most lethal individuals. On top of that he'd experienced life amidst an eternally war-torn species. There wasn't much left that could truly shake Kell.

Mild fears of the captain put aside, Kell made his way to the bridge. There, he quietly studied his other crew mates. What went across his mind most was how long had Sulk been in the archives during shore leave? This was a captain who could use a proper dose of the vibes.

After being briefed, Kell didn't have a question. He never did. He'd told Sulk that he'd pilot this ship anywhere as long as they were going somewhere. Nothing mattered so long as they were moving. The others asked important questions that seemed mostly relevant outside of Valk. Kell liked Valk, he seemed like a man who could have a good time.

"Same question as Eleven, over here. As dopesauce as this 'Titan Hammer' sounds, I'd like to know what it is too."

Kell began pondering the many ways to lock her out of his database permanently.

"Ignore her, Captain. Point the way, me and Bubba'll get ya' there. So long as we get a good payout, it's fine with me."

A lower deck of the Nova Dawn

---

The section of the vessel that Ildaz is currently in rarely saw any traffic from the crew, a dark stretch of corridors with tubes and pipes running up, down, and side to side along the walls. Varying in size and function, many of these seemingly random fixtures perform vital roles, from power distribution to liquid plumbing. A small stretch of one of these corridors has several of the smaller pipes opened and a few of them completely gutted. In front of a convergence of four separate pipes stood Ildaz, his deft fingers running along side of the pipes while he seemed to be concentrating with his eyes closed. After a few minutes of this, his eyes suddenly open and he quickly reaches up to twist a valve at the top of the junction and then to another at the bottom, after a few seconds of observation, he hurriedly turned another three at seemingly random places around the junction. Seeming to be satisfied, Ildaz focused his attention on a piece of piping near the center of the junction, before he has a chance to do anything else, the Captain's voice echoed down the hall from the single speaker in the entire section of the corridor, "Now hear this: bridge officers to the archives at once. I repeat: bridge officers to archives at once."

Ildaz stopped only long enough to hear the crack at the end of the message to resume his actions, disconnecting a section of the pipe and fiddling with the connectors at the now open ends of the pipes still connected to the wall, after a few more minutes he bent down and lifted a nearly identical section of pipe to replace the one he had removed. After the pipe was secured in place, Ildaz twisted all the valves again, but in the opposite order as before. Inspecting his work for a minute or two, he tweaked several more valves in the junction before moving to a nearby companel, dark and seemingly out of power like the rest of the section. Placing his free hand on the panel for a moment, Ildaz seemed to concentrate before his eyes flared for a second and a spark of Psionic energy sunk into the panel and the surrounding area. Pressing a button on the now powered panel he spoke in a calm, yet unyielding voice full of command.
"The phasecharge regulator in the aft-starboard section of deck three has been repaired, restore power gradually and monitor for additional power surges. Contact me if additional complications arise." There was a moment of silence from the other side of the comlink before the voice of a newer engineer broke through in a halting voice.
"Uh, yeah, alright. I'll get on it now."
"If you lack the necessary skills to perform this task, relay my instructions to Arcenia, and assist her"
"Ah, good-uh, yeah. I'll do that." The same voice came back, albeit far more relived.

Wasting no further time on the matter, Ildaz removed his hand from the comlink and it immediately lost power again. Turning fluidly and starting on his was to the archives now that his immediate task was completed, he started fiddling with the regulator circuit that he had removed from the junction. Walking with long, unrelenting strides, Ildaz made relatively good speed on his way to the meeting, the whole while tinkering with the inside of the pipe, having sliced it open earlier, using a mixture of careful balancing and telekinesis to keep the device stable. Never looking up from his work, he nonetheless managed to unerringly navigate the corridors and lifts, effortlessly​ avoiding collisions with obstacles and other crew members. After walking for some time, Ildaz drew up to the door to the archives, pausing for a few more seconds, he used his Psiblades to seal the regulator circuit back together, having sucessfully refurbished​ it. Striding into the meeting, presumably last due to his delayed response to the summons, he first noticed the Captain, as he always did. A striking Psionic presence, formidable in strength if not necessarily complexity, he seemed always to Ildaz's eyes to possess a nimbus of glowing light around his body. As he slowly panned his gaze among the others he sensed at the meeting, his eyes narrowed into enraged slits upon seeing a form hanging from some device thrust into the ceiling. His right vambrace erupted and an ominous thrumming could be easily heard as he swiftly swung his Psiblade through the cord of the device, dropping it to the floor. Immediately after he extinguished his blade and addressed the creature, "This is the resting area of the most important construct aboard this vessel, you have shown blatant disregard for it's reverence by thoughtlessly​ discharging your projectile contraption. Repeat this action again and I will kill you."
Ildaz held his gaze upon the creature through his speech, his eyes still narrow slits, now blazing with intensity and the corners bleeding psionic might.

Az had spent the shore leave cooped up in the archives with the captain, working on a new puzzle from the Lexicon. He had left the archives about an hour ago to clear his head a bit from being cooped up with the captain. Clearing his head, however, meant cooping himself up in his own work area by himself. While working with the captain, Az had sent images of the Lexicon to his own terminal via his glasses. At his own work station, Az began cross-referencing the name “Titan Hammer” over multiple channels to see what he could find on the artifact. The only information his search returned was his own notes and general information on the lifeforms, but nothing on the artifact in question.

Az huffed and shook his head at the display. He really hadn’t had much hope on anything returning on those general terms. It was never that easy finding anything out about the archaic entries in the Lexicon. Az instead began searching for any legends from different cultures to do with the Titans or their tools. Most of the returned information from this search was about different cultures worshipping the Titans as gods, building holy places in the shells of giants they believed to be the bodies of Titans, and them believing the Titans to be the ones who built the Astral Gate.

“Now that’s interesting… If they can construct whole worlds with their tools, maybe they could have been the ones to build the Gate. Or maybe they were closer to being the work force for the real masterminds, living tools themselves.”

His voice carried through the empty room and out into the hall slightly. A crew member passing by the open door stopped for a moment and stared at the navigator strangely. Az turned to peer at the crew member, causing them to hustle off toward the kitchen. The archaeologist turned back to his terminal, muttering under his breath about the crew member being the crazy one for going toward the kitchen. He attempted new search terms for the “Titan Hammer”. This time he searched for strange prehistoric structures resembling the shape of a hammer. Once again his search yielded little results. There were some cultures noting strange structures predating their civlizations, but nothing resembling anything close to the “Titan Hammer”.

Az huffed again as the bell sounded about the ship. The captain’s voice followed the bell, summoning the bridge officers to the archives. Az locked his personal terimanl up before making his way back to the archives. Az arrived shotrly after the android master-at-arms of the Nova Dawn. Upon entering the archives, Az walked up to the captain and leaned down, noticing the presence of the books and writing utensils. It would seem the captain hadn’t stopped his research either.

“I was uanble to find anything else of significance on the ‘Titan Hammer’ by corss-referencing it across different channels. I did find something interesting that got me thinking, however… but, that can wait,” Az whispered quicky to the captain before withdrawing to his own seat at the table. He watched the rest of the officers enter before the captain spoke up.

"Valkyr Sector. Not far outside of Arc Luminous space, but mostly uncharted. Cosmic gigantiform activity too strong to permit colonization, and its position too remote to demand timely cartography. The Lexicon tells me of planet Eris in this sector, and of the treasure we may find there: the 'Titan Hammer.' I have ascertained its coordinates, and I plan for this to be our next destination. I await your concerns, if you possess any."

His simple debriefing was followed by a few concerns from the other officers.

"Do we know exactly what this is? This 'Titan Hammer'?"

"If the captain wants it does it really matter? Anything with “titan” in its name usually is worth the bother. Well unless it's just a big hammer. Please tell me it isn’t just a big hammer. Besides gigantiform life sounds delicious!”

"Same question as Eleven, over here. As dopesauce as this 'Titan Hammer' sounds, I'd like to know what it is too."

"Ignore her, Captain. Point the way, me and Bubba'll get ya' there. So long as we get a good payout, it's fine with me."

Az had opened his mouth to reply to the concerns of his fellow officers when Valk was abruptly cut down from his perch by the ship’s engineer, who then threatened the Sapkir. For a moment, he watched the two with his mouth agape but quickly composed himself enough to launch into an explanation.

“The Lexicon claims it’s a tool that was used by the Titans themselves to construct or destroy whole worlds, so it would seem it may be a literal hammer or some sort of machine used by the Titans called a hammer. If the planet in question is still at the coordinates we found in the Lexicon, then the Hammer should still be there as well, since the Lexicon says something along the lines of the planet being unable to survive in the absence of the Hammer, though that could mean a multitude of things when you consider the archaic language used in the Lexicon.”

After his longwinded explanation, Az leaned back in his chair away from the table and his fellow officers.