And so it was as she predicted; the aerial behemoth turned around and made its descent. It gathered speed, targeting those that seemingly began to collect where the masked being with the drippy box stood. And once more she felt it. The invading mind 'waves' of a Programmer. The bandaged hand went to her temple as if clutching at her head could somehow physically aid the defenses of her mind—suddenly the wall behind her collapsed, sending the beam she stood upon bolt upright. The result was the swift and singular ammo-launching motion of a catapult; Lucky by default was its ammo.

The cat-girl shrieked out loudly. Reason in part was the utter shock of being tossed like a stone from a giant’s hand, but the main reason was that Dotsies was no longer in her grasp.

“Dotsies!! The hell ya playin’ at girlie?! Why ya jump away from me?!” Big baby blues grew even bigger as she saw her bestest bud, all claws extracted in full glory, leaping towards the giant spined behemoth. "Are ye mad?! Ya can’ts take on the livin’ vessel on yer lonesome, girlie!!"

The behemoth somehow seemed to notice the white fluffy thing, regally posed for all eternity, toppling head over heels towards it. Truly it was non-plussed, but a moments lapse was just enough to distract it from completely annihilating Stone and Cradle.

Towards a ruined spire was Lucky headed, and she managed to contort her body round till she found the right position to catch a loose railing and save her life. Big eyes narrowed in great concentration, yet darted this way and that to figure out the route to descend safely to the ground and find her bestest bud. A curt nod she gave to herself; she had found the path.

Both arms stretched out but only one caught the railing. Had she caught the railing with both hands, she would have managed to swing her trajectory to another buildings errant metal beam. Instead she only managed to start her body flipping head over heels, wildly out of control and towards another building that was missing two of its four walls. Earning her namesake, Lucky the cat-girl flew through an open window and got caught up in old, tattered yet thick drapes, bounced off the floor once, twice and then over the edge she flew. Literally. She fought to untangle herself from the drapes and ended up fluffing out a parachute-type of contraption. She floated for a while then of course, the tearing sound invaded her ears, signifying her doom to fall once more. She shrieked as she plummeted to her death.

But once more, the drapes saved her life. A horizontal metal sign post caught the fabric and effectively slowed her descent. So effective that she actually was yanked back up as the post did not break but bent as a fishermans rod would as a fish would struggle against the hook then escape, sending the rod bowing in the opposite direction. Boing!! A final flail. A twisting of the body in mid-air. A four-point landing. Judges would score an average of 9.8 out of 10 for such a performance. Lucky merely stood and brushed off a shoulder.

“Meh. But meant to do that, did this lass..” a cocky sideways jerk of the head she gave then she blew two sets of kisses to the phantoms and ghosts in the audience before her.

But with all seriousness upon her face now, she knelt down, extracted her claws and shred a section of the drapery for her collection. Never did she ever leave behind a keepsake of her ‘moments of acrobatic prowess.’ Suddenly she perked up and slowly rose to a standing position. Vertical pupils in blue eyes dilated. The waves seeking to drown her thoughts had ended… and the music had returned! Of course! It was what the stranger needed for them to ‘put back.’

“…for music soothes the soul of even the most savage of beasts…! Oh! And speakin’ o’ beasts… where be that ill-begotten white-furred girlie gone to now…? Dots!! DOTSIES!!”

As the cat-girl wandered over to the others gathered near the masked being with the drippy box, a four-legged thing scampered past her, obviously terror stricken and running aimlessly in panic. Normally, Lucky would have drawn her claws, pounced and made a meal of it. Instead she just took a swipe at it. No, it was not a killing blow. Rather, it was to snatch the fuzzy, white, eternally regally posed feline that somehow got caught up in its rigging upon its back. “Oi! You there, girlie! Whatcha’ playin’ for with that… that ‘waddling thing?’ Dots, ya mad, mad beastie! Don’t ya ever dare leap from me again! Ya don’t mess 'round with those behemoths nor d'ya play with stranger waddling beasties, ya hear’s this here lass?! Don’t never do that again!”

A final wag of a finger, then suddenly her expression softened she thrust Dotsie to her cheek and embraced her tight. “Aye, girlie, aye... I be done with me upsets. Awwwww… I missed ya too, girlie… oh and aye and again aye. Let’s go to the others then and check up on the Big Fella…”

Lucky would have missed the initial intro and the doughnut offer but she still sauntered into their midst regardless, black tail swishing casually from neath her cloak. Should the Witnessed Day be in the gathering, Lucky would saunter over to him and stand by his side. One arm would be properly bandaged and Dotsies would be strapped to her hip. The H.O.B.O. device would be in her non-bandaged hand in full display. For some reason she thought that this would signify that she meant no harm and she also thought this was how she would show her ticket to board the living vessel.

“Ahoy there and well met then, ya fine folks here,” a small smile and a polite nod she cast them, “If I am to introduce meself then I must means ya no harms atall then. Aye, so introduce meself, I will, fine folks. I be to meet with an esteemed and established owner of a proud vessel. And it be for prime employment aboard the livin’ sky vessel of one Mister Cap’n Gilby. And I am to be called ‘Lucky’ if it pleases ya...”

---

The Witnessed Day stood half-awake in his own daydream as rocks conspired all around him to crush the bug. Full of hubris, he chose not to move – instead, he idly watched the rocks, attempting to divine a greater meaning to their being. There was none, of course – they were doomed to an existence of monotony, and this was their highlight. They simply lacked the capacity to aspire to something greater, let alone the ability to dream. He would mourn them, at some point to far off too see (but he could not tell whether that moment had long passed, or if it were yet to come). At the noise of Golby, he shushed his birdcalls, the thought of sustaining them having grown boring within the moment.

The Witnessed Day, tired, turned only one set of his eyes toward Golby. He cocked his head at the mention of teamwork but said nothing about how he was mostly unaware of the others. He had no mouth to receive doughnuts, so he did not gesture to receive them. It took him a few moments to gather the will to think his steps out, and he slowly lumbered his form toward the gathering. He took stock of his would-be comrades, measuring their worth in his eyes. In his arrogance, he only noted the Helium Frightful as interesting enough to study in its entirety, and watched as it swirled to the beat.

Swirls in the sky made him hungry for thoughts about flying. Perhaps he would dream himself such an ability when he was allowed to sleep, as it always seemed appealing. Maybe he’d go bigger, too. The living vessel had certainly been a force to be feared, and had he not been so focused on other thoughts (especially those annoying leg-thoughts he was forced to maintain), he might have reacted with the appropriate response of avoiding the situation entirely. He thought about being a flying worm – then he wouldn’t need to worry about legs anymore. A worm burrowing through the sky – such imagery invoked within him a feeling of nostalgia, and he found that he missed the Nebula Shaman he had once known (as loathsome (and inferior) as they were).

With that, The Witnessed Day turned his attention back to the group, and his mind acknowledged the announcement of Lucky. He was too tired for a proper introduction (and, after his nostalgic recollection, too unimpressed with the current lot before him), so his gesture was a lazy greeting used by the lower-tiered Nebula Shaman he had only seen a few times in this current consciousness – a simple nod of acknowledgement in the direction of the others. His arms sat limp at his sides, and he only let out one thought-utterance to commune his thoughts.

“The Witnessed Day.”

Such was the extent of his daydream that he half-retreated back into it, only partitioning a crumb of his mind to listen for the others’ introductions as his eyes tried to take in every aspect of the now-calm living vessel. The truth was that he had done nothing but follow a curious creature, and had not assisted in calming the Helium Frightful in any way, and he felt he had nothing worthwhile to contribute to the conversation for the time being – a mentality ingrained in him by the Nebula Shaman who had “raised” him.

Stone munched heartily on the donuts she got from his employer. He’d noticed the man, he was there on the hologram projected by the twin stud earrings when the advertisement popped itself in front of her. Finishing them in seconds, Stone craved for more. There were more donuts but she hesitated for some reason.

The reason became more apparent as other people… creatures?... arrived with her. A bug like thing stood among them, so was a girl with the unusual speaking pattern. She kind of liked it, it was something new – entirely new even in this foreign place and era she woke up in. Licking her lips, Stone contemplated on speaking up. She didn’t talk. Instead, she fished another donut from her employer and devoured it right after. She was starving and she needed more than that to fill herself up.

While the interesting girl introduced herself, she looked around and her eyes became glued to the just-rampaging-creature-now-calmed-by-music and her stomach growled. Without hesitation – this time – she stepped up and approached the creature. One bite, just one bit from it and she’ll get to taste more flavors she’d ever tasted. It would be new, exotic. Delicious. Everything was delicious. She stopped. The bug creature professed its identity to her and her head hurt, it hurt so much she fell down the ground clutching her head. Was it because of her recently awakened state that caused it or was this Witnessed Day harming her?

”My head. No, my head.”

Stone remained on the ground, her head throbbing, pounding. A glimpse of something familiar flashed before her mind’s eye – a couple, a red-headed man and a blonde woman. They smiled at her, Stone felt euphoria at seeing them together. The man was way older than the woman who looked in her early twenties, late teens even.

Her thoughts swerved somewhere else upon her stomach’s growl. Still hungry Without missing a beat, she snapped back right on her feet, faint orange glow following her. ”I’m Stone and I’m ravenous. Got more food?”

She focused on filling herself up. Not time for words, food first. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings and saw her earlier interest – the four-legged thing along with the tiny somethings on it. Mushrooms? Yes! Food! Stone sprinted, hands outstretched in front of her, grabbing the first wiggling mushroom she could get. ”Awesome there’s more food!” She said with a skip on her step, hands clutching several struggling mushrooms as her mouth opened wide, hungry for sustenance.

---

And there it went, as in a series of events that seemed to pass by like a surreal dream, that in a dive and an impressive mid-air grab the thief caught the battery thrown at him and plugged whatever cable was sticking out into the radio as the sound blasted over the ruins once again. Whisper took a peek at the flying creature while laying on the ground amidst the rubble, and when he finally confirmed that the beast seemed to be appeased and there was no more danger, he made to stand up with the radio on his hands when-

Wait, what?... A potato?

He stopped mid-way while looking with what one would assume to be a bewildered expression beneath his mask at the improvised power source on his hand. This worked? This is what they had gotten for him? One look at this and no one would bet money into it actually working as any kind of battery, and yet they gambled it all on this piece of food. Perhaps what made him more afraid wasn't so much about how he could have died a horrible death had this strange contraption not worked, but the fact that it seemed to function seamlessly. However, when he stopped to think about it, this wasn't the strangest thing Whisper had seen today. In fact, he didn't think it would make it to the top 10 when the day was over.

Putting the radio with much care into the ground where it wouldn't topple over, the thief finally took the time to examine his surroundings, as he heard the captain's introduction. That was the captain, Golby. That much he could have guessed by his mannerism. But when he pointed at the leviathan floating in the air as the Helium Frightful, it made Whisper pause again.

"That's our ship?... Or rather, that's a ship?" The thief asked in his robotic voice.

Was this what he had signed up for? He supposed the captain never did mention anything about the ship in his interview, but this didn't mean that he expected it to be a sentient flying creature. How were they even supposed to board that? They were less than an hour into their meeting and their means of transportation had already tried to kill the crew. This certainly didn't inspire much confidence in their future endeavors. Was he the only one bothered by this? Looking around, that seemed like the case. As introductions started to be thrown around, Whisper began to tune into the conversation.

Lucky. Lady with cat ears and tail and also a cat for a pet. Seemed like a strange decision to double down on the whole theme, but when he thought about it it made sense that someone half cat would want to have an actual cat for a companion. She also spoke strangely. Whisper had to pay attention to make sure he understood what she was saying. Other than that, seemed like a joyful person. They would probably get along. Stone, with the floating pillar. She seemed to be in pain, rolling on the ground, until all of a sudden she wasn't anymore. It was hard to say much about this one. Hungry was the only word that came to his mind, and she seemed to also hold a cheerful attitude towards anything food related. That would be good to keep in mind for the future if he needed her to do something for him. And then there was...

Witnessed Day

The thing stirred inside him as he glanced at the creature. Surprise, followed by curiosity, and then finally disdain. The voice rose from the depths of his mind, wanting to take control, as his eyes started to hurt. Something made to reach out to the Nebulae-spawn in front of him but seemed to think better of it, as it retreated back to its lair with its anger not quelled.

"Disgraceful lesser being, recognize when you are in front of your superior..." A strange voice that seemingly did not belong to him was directed at the Witnessed Day, somewhat muffled out as crackling from the mask voice equipment interfered with the sounds. A few seconds went by when clarity finally came back to the thief. He awkwardly stared at his surroundings, not entirely sure about what had just transpired. His head darted to every which direction, making a conscious effort to avoid the insectoid, however. A moment went by in silence before he finally piped up again.

"Ah.... Yes, the name is Whisper. I am a professional thief. Can steal just about anything you ask me to, with about an 80% guarantee that I won't be noticed. Nice to meet you all..." He finished, going back to ruffling through his bag equipment, in an excuse to remove himself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

Two doughnuts, then a third, quickly found their way into Stone's stomach -- but this was only an appetizer.

Lucky -- after several acrobatic feats of death-defiance, retrieved the lost Dotsie from the waddling-thing's back, where the Bobbling community had surely been looking after her.

The Witnessed Day drew slowly closer while the birdsong was brought to an end.

Stone, out of doughnuts, entertained the thought of biting into the Helium Frightful, but instead collapsed in pain at The Witnessed Day's telepathic introduction. When it ended she leaped up, and mistaking the Bobblings for mushrooms snatched up a few, her mouth open to receive them.

An unfamiliar voice hissed, staticked, out of Whisper's mask into The Witnessed Day's mind -- but Whisper himself chose not to acknowledge it.


While the Bobblings wriggled and babbled urgently in Stone's eager grip, Golby appeared beside her and very deftly slipped a small meat pie between her teeth instead. It was still warm, and spiced with something exotic and delicious. Where it had come from, no one may ever know.

"It's a blast to finally meet you all!" Golby laughed as he gently removed the Bobblings from Stone's reach, cradling them against his chest. "I'd sent out twenty invitations but didn't expect as much as one of you to actually show up. This is fantastic." He deposited the Bobblings atop their waddling-thing, which he gave a good-dog pat on the head. He then very carefully removed their leader from his pocket, and he let Krita down among his community.

"Now!" He turned on his heel with a sudden shout for attention. "We've got an urgent call for heroism, but before we board there are a few things you all should know: meet Krita and our mechanics." He gestured to the community on the waddling-thing's back. "We'll be in trouble if anything happens to them. Anyone who's got a sensitivity to telepathy, I've got a HOBO mod for that." He gestured excitably with a doughnut in one gloved hand, though it was unclear when he had actually pulled it out. "Learn the radio settings if you want to live. Broadcast every call for help. Do what you can, harm only when you must, and always be kind."

He took a bow, then whipped out his HOBO (the doughnut was mysteriously missing) and poked it.

The Helium Frightful circled once more overhead, then hummed contentedly and floated like a deflated balloon to the ground.

While the great beast raised its head and puffed its chest, a fan of spines at its throat pressed together and folded down into a very solid and smooth loading ramp. More spines raised up toward the sky and exposed a huge, arched metal door that slid open with one more tap of Golby's HOBO.

The frightening monster had, in less than a minute, seemed to transform into a creature-shaped mound with a ramp and a doorway in its ribcage.

Golby scooped up the blaring radio into one arm and gave a flourished gesture onward. "All aboard! Claim your rooms while I take us up -- no takebacks!"

He rushed forward ahead of them, leaped his way up the loading ramp and rushed into the bay and up the stairs inside, his boots clanking on the floors, the radio music amplified by the acoustics of the loading bay until he disappeared into another hall, leaving the new crew to find their own way around the ship.

Indeed, as soon as they stepped through the fur-lined doorway there was no longer any indication that this was anything but a cargo ship. The loading bay was illuminated by thin yellow beams along the ceiling, and a metallic female voice echoed from somewhere within, repeating:



Somewhere, engines whirred. A heartbeat thrummed in the walls. Occasionally a grumble or a low huff sounded alongside the hum of mechanical workings.

As the last crew member entered the bay, the loading ramp separated once more into spines and the metal door slid closed with a clank and a thump. Immediately the room took on a strange weightless feeling, like a boat on water. The repeated distress call stopped, replaced by the murmurs of the ship and the faint tinny sound of a different song playing from the cockpit. There were a few small windows throughout the ship, cleverly disguised on the outside but perfectly clear from within. The blue sky tilted and the newly re-destroyed ruins of a once-magnificent city slipped away; they were taking off.

Her non-bandaged hand went to her hip and unclasped the white and fluffy thing. Up to Golby's face did Lucky thrust the regally, and for all eternity posed feline, "And this be me bestest of friends. Tis Dotsies. Go on... Say hi then... 'tis the Cap'n Gilby here, girlie...! Oooohhh... She's normally all chatty and forward... but seems to be all shy now..."

A humble and apologetic smile she offered up to Goldby before re-attaching Dotsies to her hip. "And a hearty thanks, one thousand-fold for acceptin' our applications and having the both o' us aboard your grand livin' vessel, sire. Whatever ya needs, me n' Dotsies will not hesitate to provide as we be the best of employees! Oh, and doncha worry your honker off, we won't claw nor consume a single... Krita-chanics? They look of plants anyways... hah...! Ahoy then, Krita-chanics and yer waddling-thing...! Pleased to make acquaintance, if it pleases ya! Safe voyages and best to us all then, mates! Aye, and again a thousand-fold, aye...!"

The HOBO device returned to her hand and she crinkled her nose as she studied it with a bit of suspicion. Anything that dealt with 'waves' getting into her brain, she did not fully trust even if it would be to her benefit. But as soon as she put it back on her wrist, she sensed that there was a touch of... dampening that somehow soothed her head.

"Oh I knows, I knows, girlie, 'tis for me own good," both eyebrows popped up twice to further expand her sarcastic comment, "and why I don't strap a HOBO device round yer neck, I'll never know-- oh riiiiight, Dots, you're allergic to such things... then how do you know how to fiddle with them radio settings...?! Allergic... riiiiight..."

Then the loading bay door slowly opened and Lucky suddenly became very upright and rigid, and very very still. Normally bright big blue eyes turned once more into that abyssal black. And although not a single muscle moved, inside her head was utter maelstrom and turmoil.

When Golby leapt and scampered up the ramp, Lucky followed behind, marching almost robotically till she reached the cargo hold. She then promptly marched along the wall then abrubtly stopped. The cat-girl then turned and stood with her back to the wall, both hands neatly clapsed behind her back. She would remain in this position until they were ready for take-off. Then her batch would find their respective cages and remain in rest until it was time for 'deployment.' During the flight, each would be fitted with their proper gear depending if they were on infiltration, extraction or cleaner mode. Each batch had at minimum three Programm--

"I AM NOT!!" screamed out Lucky, and upon all fours and onto the floor of the cargo bay was she now, shaking violently, a snarl pulled up at her lips. The abyssal hue of those eyes echoed the sound of blood red murder's desire in her ragged breath. Suddenly a look of shock overtook the murderous one. One blink, then another and bright and shiny, starry-eyed big blues returned, the abyssal hue now lost. Lucky had once more swam free from the internal maelstrom and turmoil of her Programming. A single head shake she gave then rolled into a kneeling position, a hand palming her forehead.

"More bad sleepy-thinks again Dotsies..." the sound of primal rage was not found in her normal smokey sounding voice now, "methinks that-- oh! Is this where we stay then? Well, beats being dropped into a cage, I say. Hired help can'ts be choosers it seems..."

Lucky got up and stretched out her legs and then proceded to unclasp Dotsies from her hip. Vertical pupils in her eyes dilated as she scanned the dimly lit hold. A sweaty palm began to anxiously stroke her regally posed for all eternity besties' head and neck as she inspected the cargo hold. Memories of another time, another place, another living vessel played about, tickling her brain with unease.

A decent sized container box she found and lifted the lid. It was empty. Perfect.

Onto its side did the cat-girl lift and turn the container. The lid she propped open and slid inside, only the light of her HOBO device shining in for her to inspect the inner condition of her new 'room.'

"Oh hold tongue a titch, girlie... ain't so bad now. This box dint have no organics in it. Smell. See? Oil and 'lectronics. 'Twas metals and machines. What..?! Dots no..."

Lucky rolled onto her back and her bandaged arm swept wide as tried to calm her regally posed bestie, "Oh, donchya be mad... We have all the space we needs here-- oi!! Whatja say about me arse then?! Half the box?! Oh, I'll 'be kind' and 'do what I can' to give you the 'harms when I must,' ya' barmy fuzzed up girlie...! And doncha do that t'me! Hold yer tongue in now..."

A finger wagging she gave her white feline pal then abruptly stopped, giggled and hugged Dotsies tight.

"We gunna be okay, girlie... I swears it... I do... Mista' Captain Gilby is our new sire and the Big Fella means us no harm... we gunna be okay, I swears it..."

A sigh she let out, a rough swallow she took and shiny big blues stared at her glowing HOBO device.

_{"What is the directive..."}

---

The Witnessed Day turned his topmost left eye toward this Whisper – an apt name for something which would be lost upon the tides of noise – but did not react aside from a simple, subtle nod toward the inferior being. He angled the left side of his head toward him, a sign of disregard among the Nebula Shaman. To be disregarded was generally considered worse than having death wished upon one – to be disregarded meant to have no value, at least the dead could feed the earth. Only a carefully trained eye could catch the motion as something more than an accident, but The Witnessed Day did not even grace the voice with a response. Had the thing really been worthy of fear, it might have tried weaving a phrase of True Speech (though, admittedly, if it were reduced to vocalizations from flesh, it probably wouldn’t be able to find the proper “channels”, even if it knew where to look). Then the thing began to speak again, its voice much less hostile. With that, The Witnessed Day’s eye returned to its normal position as he took in Golby’s words.

Well, he did not sleep, and he did not eat (not physically, at least), and he did not like the stiff environments of rooms. Ever the arrogant, he decided that he would roam the ship at his leisure, though when he meandered into the ship he narrowed his eyes. Noisy was the only word which came to mind, but he decided he would find the most organic part of the ship to meditate. He hoped that he would be able to have a conversation with The Helium Frightful, so he decided to sit in the engine room. The stomach was where energy flowed from, and thusly was one of the most intimate places to commune with a person. Energy flowed from the engine, and so the same reasoning was to be applied here. Form a bond with the ship, probe its mind, and learn its architecture – when dreaming himself anew, he could more perfectly mimic its form that way. But for learning to be effective, there must be a bond.

The engine room was a bit too warm for his liking, of course, but conditions must be learned to be tolerated lest he waste time dreaming himself luxuries. But still, the warm threatened to lull him to sleep, and if he dreamt in such a state… The Witnessed Day dared not imagine it, lest it creep into his daydreams. Now was not the time for such worry, but rather to make himself at home. The room itself was noisy, though a different sort of noise – instead of the constant mumbling of voices, it was the constant hum of The Helium Frightful’s belly. He dug around in his robes, shuffling around for trinkets he had brought along. Mostly twine and beads, the same used to adorn his horns. They held some esoteric significance to him, though it was more ritual than meaning. Had he remembered to bring rugs with him, he would have laid them out on the floor, but figured that he did not need them so long as he had his robes.

The Witnessed Day placed a hand on the wall to feel its heartbeat. Funny, for its grandeur, it still carried a primitive set of organs. Melded with machinery, to boot. He mourned to himself over this simple fact, but quickly got over it. It still had parts of use, and there was always something to be learned. To disregard its errors would be childish – everything must be improved upon if even a fraction of a fraction (and so on until near infinity) were to be taken into one’s being. It was a long way off being home, but it would be his study for the time being. Satisfied with his read of the room, he began to place ropes of bead wherever he felt it would be appropriate. He adorned doorways with numerous strings of bead to alert him to the entrance of others. Then he hung beads in a circle pattern to form a faux wall around what would eventually become his place of meditation. Spent, but unwilling to sleep, he sat down in the center, his robes spreading out to create the illusion of a mound topped by his head. He placed his HOBO on the ground outside of his sacred circle as his thoughts lingered on Whisper, trying to make connections to any figures from his past, slowly raking over every leaf of his past in an attempt to place the unfamiliar voice.

Having paid close attention to the captain's instructions, Whisper awkwardly made his way into the ship, trying to get away from the rest of the crew as quickly as possible. Unlike what the literal monstrous outside of the ship would have you believe, this was a legitimately outfitted vessel, and far bigger than most of the ones he had been inside in his life. The thief couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of technology went into transforming a living creature into a powerful flying craft. Did it have guns too? Not that it needed them with its humongous size and natural capabilities for destruction.

He also took note of the previously misplaced little creatures the captain mentioned as being the mechanics of the ship. They looked like your common nebula spawn, albeit with seemingly a high enough intelligence to be able to maintain a ship. Would that thing work with them? Thinking better of it, maybe it wasn't worth the risk to try it. Who knows what could go wrong, much more so with the Witnessed Day onboard. That's right. He had to watch his steps around that one. Arrogant, ignorant, blind. He would make him pay. But not now. He was too weak. He had to bid his time, wait for the right moment to strike, and then...

And then... And then what?

Whisper stopped his strides in the middle of the wide and dimly illuminated corridor, shaking his head as if trying to dispel all the weird thoughts popping up into his head. Like a mist flowing out of his grasp, they dissipated, and the thief had a hard time attempting to recall whatever he was thinking about a few moments ago. Only a general idea remained. Something about that big creature. Right, his guts told him it was better to stay away from that one. That seemed like a good advice. Putting this matter to the back of his mind, he finally took the time to look around and see where he had arrived.

A door stood in front of him. Whisper noticed that his blind wandering had brought him somewhat close to the bridge of the ship. Pulling on the handle, he found himself inside a storage of sorts, with workbenches and lockers spread throughout it, where the lights were failing to function. No, more appropriately, this was an armory. Well, or so one would think. All the thief noticed around were bits and pieces of weapon parts, as well as a myriad of ammo to god knows which types of guns laying in piles. At a glance, the man could even tell that some of the "complete" weaponry were using improvised pieces to work semi-properly, while most of them would just not work at all, or worse yet, explode in the hands of whoever picked them up. Did the captain even use this room? He supposed he didn't seem like the most violent of men, but this was hardly any comfort for a crew that was just about to dive straight into an adventure into the unknown. The room wasn't all that bad, though. Whisper knew that with a bit of tidying up this could become a proper storage room and workshop, where he could mess around with parts and see what he could scavenge out of anything useful. Yeah, this would do. He had slept in worse places. He would need a mattress though. He wasn't a savage.

Now... Time to look into things properly.

With that thought, Whisper closed the door behind him while making sure no one was coming this way. He scouted around the room in search of a vent, finally finding one on the ground near the entrance. Squatting near it, the thief paranoically glanced at his surroundings, before proceeding to slowly take off his mask. His facial features were hard to make out in the dimly lit room, but in the eyes where a reflection of the light should have been present, only pitch black darkness could be seen. A bottomless abyss that drew everything it laid eyes upon into a descent into the dark and unknown. He stared at the vent for what seemed like an eternity, waiting, calling for something to come and meet him. Until finally, after a good minute had gone by, a squeaking sound was heard.

"Hah, in the end you are still a ship, even when it comes to the bad things..." His voice sounded, without the unnatural robotic tone, being this time similar to what one would expect in a young man.

A small rat like nebula creature crawled through the vent, its body decorated in a metallic blue sheen. It stood there, unmoving, its minuscule beady eyes staring directly into Whisper's own, drawn to it by an unnatural connection as if waiting for something. Finally, something seemed to shine in the thing's gaze, before it retreated in a hurry back into the vent. Whisper stood up, satisfied with himself, before putting the mask back into his face. He didn't know how long it would take the little creature to go from one end of the ship to the other, but the results should be here in a few hours, or so he expected. Now though, it was time to clean up this mess. Right, he was also getting quite hungry. He should have taken one of the donuts. Was there some kind of cook around the ship? That would certainly be very useful.

The ship rocked and twisted gently, floating as one might expect a great beast to swim through the air. The halls were cozy and quiet ... and safe. A sense of warmth and protection permeated the walls of the ship, which pulsed with the comforting thrum of a heartbeat and echoed serenely with the soft, distant melody of Golby's potato-fueled radio.

Within the closed container in the loading bay, Lucky would hear all the creaks and clanks of unsecured machinery as it slid and scraped against the moving walls. Only a faint glimmer of the melody reached her here: a wisp of music behind the hum and thrum and scrape and clank. The screen of her HOBO illuminated the interior of the container, where she was folded safely.

There were no directives on her device, nor in her head. Where there once had been pressure and control ... now was only silence.

Somewhere in the loading bay, the Waddling-Thing mooed quietly.

She might hear a scrabbling and a muttering outside her new little home. A handful of Bobblings had clambered over one another to get on top of Lucky's container, and they laughed and cheered to have achieved such a feat. They began to dance, and they began to sing along to the faint music that echoed down through the halls, in their own chittering language.

The engine room, meanwhile, was loud with the th-thump, th-thump of the heart of the beast, contained carefully within steel and ceramic, surrounded by protected nerves and moving gears and suspended yellow lights. This was a room that even Golby had deemed spooky due to the fragile tension that seemed to cling to the air within this room -- but perhaps it was this that attracted The Witnessed Day to claim this space as his own.

His consciousness stretched out, touching the hum of the Helium Frightful and the dim skittering Bobblings before he came to rest, feather-light, upon Whisper's mind.

The pages turned thin as gossamer, shimmering and faded: a glittering mansion where he didn't belong, and jewels glinting in his fist; a crowded orphanage and sharp-eyed children, splintered wood under his bare feet; a vacant landscape through the view of his mask, his throat burning; eyes that towered high above, shining out of the darkness --

*KKKKSSSSSSSSSSSS*

The violent, deafening noise of static hissed in The Witnessed Day's skull. Like glass, the memories shattered.

Whisper would feel a small twinge in the back of his head -- but he was used to that sort of thing by now, wasn't he?

Music hummed through the repaired radio just on the other side of the wall, where Golby mumbled to himself while he navigated the great beast across the sky -- sometimes humming along, sometimes scuffing his feet in time to the cello's pluck. The lilting tune kept Whisper company while he sorted the clutter of the old armory. There were piles of junked drones: some simple camera-orbs, some with spider-legs and missing pieces, some with spines or feathers and screwed-in eyes. There were spears and halberds in a variety of eccentric styles, from bone to bronze, from the nomad tribes to regulation-issued. There was a collection of ornate swords and daggers made of curious metals and adorned colorfully. There were long guns of a curious shape, whose ammunition was a mystery, and a few awkward handguns of debatable usefulness. It was enough to arm a small, ill-advised skirmish.

By the time the armory had been made into something livable, Whisper's spy returned. It had had several encounters with Bobblings, which seemed to have already permeated the corners and corridors -- but more importantly, it had found food. Near the belly of the ship was a small but functional kitchen, complete with a table and chairs, and a pantry stuffed with a year's supply of bags and cans and jars of the finest laboratory-developed, prefabricated packaged foods: Hoisin Nutrient Cutlets, Caffeinated Oxo-Moon, Solarian Lizard Loops.

The 'rat' had investigated the murmurings of someone inside a lidded container within the loading bay, but had been driven off by Bobblings. It had run through the vents and over catwalks, dodging the great creature's veins and sinew, to find the engine room where the many-legged stranger sat very still on the floor -- but again, the Bobblings had stood between the 'rat' and any further investigation. Downstairs was the infirmary, darkened now and in disuse, full of sharp things and drawers of gauze. The 'rat' had peeked into each of the small rooms at the rear of the ship, where there were beds and little else; then, through the dining area again, it had discovered five more, bigger rooms closer to the cockpit. These seemed as if they might have been lived-in recently, and one had been freshly painted and filled with stuffed animals, the bed made with bright pink sheets. Another room was filled with a brilliant bright light -- so bright that the 'rat' couldn't see at all, and had abandoned it entirely before returning to Whisper.

The Waddling Thing had somehow made it up the steps of the loading bay, and was currently tapping through the halls toward the faint smell of food, humming and mooing, while the radio repeated its song.

They were cheering, they were dancing, they were so happy to be with the music and so happy to be alive.

By the light of the HOBO device Lucky now watched the joyous Bobblings, a full on grin illuminated from between her lips. A good arms distance away was she, yet how much did she ever wish to join them? So much. In fact, she wanted to be so happy with them that tears began to stream from her cheeks.

"So happy to be with the music, Dots..." she hugged her regally posed for all eternity bestie up tight to her cheek, inadvertantly sharing her tears with the white fluffy feline, "d'ya thinks we as fine employees might be able to soiree along in this here soiree, girlie...? For only a titch then right...? The Cap'n Gilby... t'would he mind not, ya thinks...? Won't hurt 'im if he don't know, right...?"

As she asked, her slight hips began to twitch lightly at first, then suddenly her little behind was in full sway and wiggle to the music. A hearty squeal and laugh she let out as she tossed Dotsies up high then caught her once more. Tears were soon stopped and wiped away. For a heartbeat she paused, then her smile grew and grew till she looked like some kind of fine, feline nebulae creature with invisible body and only a giant smile to show. "JUMP N' FLITTERRRRR!!!!"

Oh but what a dance. The moves were rather numerous, but the flow was infectious. And it was a moveset that repeated itself. And so after watching her repeat the Jump n' Flitter a few times, the little Bobblings began to stumble along as they learned the dance moves. The HOBO's radio frequency was tuned to the Golby's radio and the signal and song was loud and clear. There was a pause as suddenly they all knew it all came together now.

"Good work, Dotsies! Ahoy, Krita-canics! Ya' willin'? Say Aye! Ya' ready? Say Aye! Ah one, ah two... ah one-two-three-fooooooourrrr--"



Several times they danced the 'Jump n' Flitter', laughing and cheering as they went along. But suddenly Lucky lost her grip on Dotsies, and the regally posed for all eternity, white, fuzzy feline went flying, toppling head over heels into their storage container home. "AUGH! Dotsies! Why ya jump from me again, girlie! If ya'd had enuff then say so, girlie, don't just leap away... use your words, Dots! Nahhhhh... comin' t'getcha is this here lass... ughss..."

Lucky crawled into the container to retrieve her bestie. Immediately she paused, big black ears perking up, vertical pupils dilating to take in more light, little nose sniffing twice. The sounds of upset Bobblings overtook the sound of the rollicking music.

Intruder.

Light lightning, Lucky leapt from her abode.



Eyes scanned about, but it was her ears that caught the location of the nebulae. Four legger. Long tail. Big enough for a dinner for two.

Once more Lucky leapt, claws extracted. All sets. From behind her banadages, three scintilating blades sliced through. With a deft swing, the cat-girl brough down said blades into the long-tailer nebulae-- Oooohh... no, not quite. The triple set of 'claws' only cut through only half the metal beam that the long-tailer hid neath. It scampered away as Lucky worked her 'claws' free.

As she freed herself, she turned to see the long-tailer scale the wall. The scowl that creased her simple visage deepened. It was going to escape out the ventilation. Lucky growled, crouched down, tapped at her left boot and a supreme jet of pressure launched the cat-girl to the vent. Her triple metal razor claws tasted long-tailer flesh.

But only the long tail part of it. And only but the tip of the tail at that.

"Damnsit..." Lucky pressed her face into the opening, "oi there, mate! Blue long-tailer! If ye can speaks to the Cap'n Gilby, then nary a word would ye speak o' the dancin' n' carousin' of this here crew, if it pleases ya...? And if nary a word is passed, n' then this here Lucky lass sees ya again... then me n' Dots won't stabs ya and eats ya. But should the good Cap'n find out about the employees dancin' n' carousin' then... well, more than the tip o' yer taily will we have? Savvy...? Oh. Okay then. Till we meet again, Mista' Blue-long-tailer-minus-the-tip..."

Lucky half-slid, half-climbed down the pipes near the upper vent and leapt down when halfway to the cargo bay floor. Quite deftly she landed and then scampered over to her abode. But by then the Bobblings had gone and the music over her HOBO had ceased. Lucky inspected the 'souvenir' she took from the long-tailer and sighed. After an affectionate pat, she picked up her white, fuzzy bestie, "Well, that went well, eh girlie...? Ya knows-- ughs. Ya stinks something ripe, Dots. Let's bathe ya? Bubbles n' all, aye and again aye...!"



After quickly rummaging through her storage container home, Lucky donned her cloak and leapt towards the steps. The poor-waddling thing who had lay witness to the sudden and violent events of Lucky pursuing the long-tailer, wanted nothing to do with the claw-bearing cat-girl and managed to scramble up the steps and into the hallways. Yet much to its dismay, the cat-girl was following it. It mooed as it scrambled away from the cat-girl.

"Aye. I agree. We should follow this waddling-thing here. It may lead us to the loo. What's that, girlie? Well, let me ask it then. Oi there, waddling-thing. If I am to introduce meself, then I must means ya no harm. So introduce meself I will. I am called: Lucky. LUUUUUUHHHH-KEEEEE... Lucky. And this here be: Dotsies. DAAAAAAAAAWWWWWT-SEEEEEES... Dotsies. And she be me bestest bestie ever. And she would so humbly and favourably wish to ride yer back... if it pleases ya?"

The waddling-thing was pressed up so hard against the wall, it should leave an imprint of its own body. After a couple of breaths it let out the teeniest of tiny little mewling of a sound.

_{"Moooooolll...?"}

"Mool? Be that what ya be called? Brillant and tremendous all at once then, Mool...!" The poor waddling-thing's body rag-dolled about as it was not only named but had its foreleg shook in a hearty greeting, "well met, pleased t'make yer acquaintancies and let's get us to the loo and batheries area of the livin' vessel then. Lead away, me loverly new mate...!"

Lucky secured Dotsies to Mool's back and followed along behind the waddling thing, humming along to the sound of the music and organically machine noises in the 'Frightful.

Mool, the waddling-thing had no idea where it was going.

Hmm, is someone calling me?

Something stirred on the back of his head. Huh, must have been my imagination. Whisper quietly waited for the return of his spy while parsing through the weaponry. Nothing in special attracted him from the assortment with the exception of the daggers and perhaps the various pistols which he would most certainly have to scrap entirely and build one from the good parts and with functioning ammo. None was the matter, though. The man had made deadly weapons from much worse sources, so this was child's play for him. Having that thought, he chose one dagger that he took a particular liking to, making it disappear as if by magic into one of his pockets. It was a pitch black curved blade, made entirely out of bones, most likely a tribe's possession, the creature it came from a mystery to him, but curiously it was still extremely sharp and durable, even more so than many conventional metals. The weapon simply felt right in his hands, as if it was custom made for him. Perhaps later he should ask the captain where he got it from. He could smell the profit coming here from a mile away.

Finally, just when Whisper was about done with organizing the room, he heard a squeaking behind him, the sign of his scout returning. Looking back, he saw the critter in the same place and position it was in when he found it. He approached, squatting down and picking the rat up with his hands, bringing it up close to his face before taking his mask off once again, the pitch black eyes staring into the thing's own. Finally, the images and sounds came flooding in, and he saw everything the little one had gone through in the endeavor. The Bobblings, sure enough, were everywhere in the ship, making it hard for his spy to go by unnoticed, but thankfully they weren't keen on taking its life. First, he saw the kitchen, full of just about the most generic nutritious canned food. At least we won't starve, Whisper supposed. And then he got to the bay and saw...

Dancing?

Yeah, that was the cat-lady, Lucky, and her cat, Dot-something-, with the Bobblings joining too. A... strange event, to say the least. The rat seemed also to find the whole thing a bit curious, seeing by the fact it halted in place for a few seconds to simply stare at the dance. The lady stopped the strange performance as her companion fell back into the container all of a sudden. Was this something to take note of? He supposed from all the weird things he saw on the ship this wouldn't be placed in the to-

Wait, what is she doing?!

Abruptly, everything turned into a blur. The critter, noticing the sudden movement of a predator, scurried with its utmost speed through the corners of the room, fleeing for its life while looking for a potential exit. Whisper heard the horrible sound of metal grating against metal, as the rat finally found an exit through a vent into another room. His escape was complete, but not before it felt a sudden sharp pain on its behind. This didn't stop the little one, however, as it rushed along. The lady's voice echoed through the vent, as she spoke her threat to the spy. The thief could more or less get the gist of it, even through the whole weird speech, as Lucky was very adamant on the captain not knowing about her dance with the Bobblings. How did she think that a rat could possibly tell him that in the first place? Maybe she knew the rat was being possessed? That didn't seem very likely from the way she spoke. Wait, why was she even afraid of getting found out again? Was the captain that stern about his employees dancing? It didn't matter much in the end.

In retrospect, Whisper supposed he should have been mindful of using a rat to scout a ship while a cat-human hybrid with superhuman capabilities was hanging around. Ah, yes, there was also the whole cutting through steel with her own claws. Perhaps it was a good idea not to get on the lady's bad side. While the thief was reflecting on the encounter, the rat had already moved on from the bay into the rest of the ship. The remaining venture was rather uneventful compared to the altercation at the bay. He found the engine room, where the insolent bug was resting at, the seemingly abandoned infirmary, and the bedrooms at the end of the ship. There were also the rooms near the Armory, bigger ones this time, probably for the crew, that curiously enough no one had chosen to take for their own when boarding the ship. In there he saw what looked like a child's bedroom, and another one within which a blinding light was coming through, making his spy unable to enter. Was there already a crew living on the ship? He never thought to ask the captain that, so he supposed it was not entirely impossible. Either way, for now, his scouting was done and he had more or less memorized the notable locations in the ship.

He returned to his own self, satisfied with what he had seen, before finally looking over the little critter again. Of course, now that Whisper knew where to look he noticed a part of its tail that was cut clean through, making him feel rather bad for sending him in a mission that could have perhaps taken its life. He sent the rat away, making sure to order it to stay very far away from the bay, or the cat duo in general, and watched it as it disappeared back into the vents again. The thief put back his mask before getting back up. He was finished in here for now. Perhaps it was time to get talking with the captain. He had a few questions he would like answered.

Going up the stairs, Whisper arrived at the bridge, where he finally noticed where the sound he had been faintly hearing was coming from. Captain Golby hummed along with the song coming from the radio while navigating the living creature. He seemed at leisure here, so hopefully, he wouldn't mind being interrupted for a bit of conversation.

"Hey, captain!" Whisper greeted in his robotic voice, putting his back against the wall as he observed the control room curiously. "So, I've been looking through the armory... Lots of interesting stuff there, huh? Spears, daggers, guns of some sort, all kinds of weapons... I organized it a bit, can probably be helpful for the crew when the time comes... Hope you don't mind me taking my workshop there, didn't seem like there was anyone using it... Yeah..." He stopped for a few seconds, thinking his words through, before continuing. "So, hey captain, do you have a child or something?"

With an uncertain and very confused gurgling noise, Mool very slowly and with great difficulty clambered up the first flight of stairs, its hooves clanking loudly in the open echoing space of the loading bay. At the top of the steps was a long platform and a view of a smaller hovercraft secured by several robotic arms. Here there was a control panel to release it.

Mool sniffed a little, looked back with trepidation at the white feline strapped to its back, gave the air a quiet sniff, and made its dutiful way to the next flight of stairs to continue the climb. On the next small landing was a sealed airlock door, which the waddling thing had no interest in. It made the turn and continued to clop loudly up the last flight of stairs, and through a door Golby and Whisper had left open in their wake.

It stepped gingerly into a yellow-painted room full of warm light, snuffling a bit more eagerly now. There was a long table, chairs bolted to the floor, and a full kitchen -- but Mool's intent was set entirely on the pantry. With a quicker gait, it followed its nose to a door against the wall, behind which were all the cereal boxes and cans and jars of preserved food. It snuffled hopefully at the door and bleated softly.

There were two big doors that led out of the galley: one led to a long hallway that accessed the engine room; the other had been left open to a lit hallway with doors for the crew quarters (they opened to ladders that led down into the rooms), the cockpit, and -- just on the other side of the door and around the corner -- a generously sized bathroom. The sound of Golby's music was louder here.

All of the crew quarters' doors led down into generic but clean and fashionable living spaces. Only two of the doors were locked. One of the locked doors shimmered slightly around the edges, as if a bright light were behind it. The other locked door had been painted bright pink.

"I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!" Golby laughed in response to Whisper's last question, and he sprang up away from the ship's controls to stand in front of the masked thief, tapping his own sharp yellow sunglasses in quick patterns. A small holographic movie appeared between them, and it flickered through scenes like changing channels -- a tall white tower, a mountain, a recording of a speedball match, an empty room, a blueprint, an enormous silhouette of something powerful with glowing eyes, a river full of little lights, another speedball match -- "Ah, here's my little princess!"

The hologram became a movie of a small child holding a controller, staring with concentration at an enormous dinosaur-shaped robot in the distance as it skirmished with a scatter of armed smugglers in the shadow of a cliff. The dinosaur-robot breathed billowing fire and the kid squealed with delight. She was dressed in overalls, straight black hair tied back and thin eyes sparkling.

"I didn't even know she existed until last week! Her mother hailed me on the radio. Would you ever guess that one wild drunk night could conceive such an angel?"

The holographic kid whispered, "Boom" just before the last of her opponents in the distance were caught in a colossal explosion. Golby laughed. "She looks nothing like me but that's my daughter all right."

Behind him the control panel was beeping. The ship, unattended, had begun to drift off course toward some interestingly edible-looking trees. The hologram disappeared and Golby sprinted back to the controls. "Go ahead and handle the speed and altitude over there," he instructed, pointing. The navigation panels were set to the coordinates of Harbinger Estate -- which, according to the diagrams, was what appeared to be a fortress island. "Do you think you've got enough resources here to arm the crew? Things might get a little messy where we're going. I also recommend lunch."

He grabbed the radio, and with a click of a button the loudspeakers throughout the ship sizzled to life.

HELLO! HELLO, HELLO! THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING! FAIR SKIES AND BEAUTIFUL WEATHER OUTSIDE -- TO YOUR LEFT YOU'LL SEE THE CHOCOLATE TREES OF RUNAWAY GULCH, TO YOUR RIGHT IS THE WORLD-FAMOUS GLASS LAKE. OUR DESTINATION THIS AFTERNOON IS HARBINGER ESTATE, A HIGH SECURITY SKY ISLAND RUN BY SOME VERY INTERESTING PEOPLE THAT MAY NOT BE HAPPY FOR OUR ARRIVAL. THIS IS A SEARCH-AND-RESCUE MISSION. YOU MIGHT WANT TO HAVE LUNCH AND EMPTY YOUR BOWELS BEFORE WE LAND. ALSO CAN SOMEONE BRING ME A BAG OF BURGER CRISPS? THANKS!

The Helium Frightful an interesting mode of transport. She saw it as food as soon as her eyes set upon it and she even thought of having a bite out of it, just a tiny-teensy-winsy one just as sample. She’d decide if it was good food when she tasted it but then, everything was good food, even when it killed other people who tried eating suspicious foods. Stone ate them all. Not collect. Ate them all.

Still overjoyed by the donuts her captain presented them after her brief introduction with the others, Stone didn’t notice that he had snagged the curious sentient mushroom away from her. She munched away from it, and them, and entered the biological ship. Their base, their transport. Home. A new one.

Not minding the marvelous engineering and feat of successfully creating an organism-based flying ship, Stone proceeded to randomly walk the halls and opening up doors whenever she pleased. There were some rooms that didn’t seem to budge when she tried opening them - while others, she didn’t even feel like touching. They felt… she didn’t know how she felt about some parts of the Helium Frightful but after racking her scattered food-addled brain for the word, she was frightened of them. A few minutes turned into an hour before she finally settled down on her new haven, even within her new home, her new workplace. The smell of consumables wafted her sensitive nose. True to her nature, she didn’t think it curious why her nose was able to pick up such faint smells in the first place. It wasn’t as if she was really aware of it. Only assumed that it was natural for her to be able to do it, it was a no-brainer she lived for food and consumption. Nothing insightful and meaningful would even occur in her mind with that taking the forefront of her thought processes.

She opened an appliance that appeared to be a smaller version of her Cradle and came upon boxes and cans. She can smell the infinite goodness within them, her stomach agreeing as it growled out of irrational and unnecessary hunger. It was a struggle to open up one of them – she prioritized the ones contained in metal – and when she finally did it, she giggled and gobbled the food without pause. One turned to five, five turned to thirteen until there was a pile of cans, boxes and packets around her.

She stopped eating and thought, I’m working for someone now, right? And we’re all going to live here, together, right? Should I eat this all or give them one each? They’ll get angry if they won’t get to taste all this delicious food. Of course I’m just giving them one each, just for them to taste it. I’m hungry and I need to eat. This continued on until she fell asleep.


Stone woke up feeling sore. Her body was tired and she didn’t know why. Her eyes opened and she saw trash around her. Am I in a dump? Great, did I make another restaurant bankrupt again? Her body jolted when her hand pressed a button she didn’t know the Cradle had. It glowed a warm, sunset orange as did her tattoos. One side of the Cradle detached itself and the glow more noticeable, it levitated away from the rest of its other parts. Inside were things Stone didn’t know it had. Some parts were loose and seemed they would’ve made a lot of noise if she was making the Cradle follow her like it did but now, they remained stationary, albeit with the glow ever-present.

”Wow. This isn’t food but I think, I think, I like this. This never happened before.”

Her eyes frozen wide, the gluttonous woman inspected the sophisticated way Cradle was apparently constructed. If she was observant – which she’s not – she would’ve noticed the way it looked like it was made by someone she knew, and that the skill and resources needed to make Cradle the way it was would be probably like how technology was made and how they functioned in this era. It would’ve been a glaring sign that Cradle was way ahead of its time, whenever that was, and that it was like the tech in this era she woke up in, centuries past her time. But Stone was not observant anymore, and she didn’t think that way so she ooh-ed and ahh-ed foolishly like she was doing a ritual.

The Cradle remained that way until Stone carelessly tried to step inside it, just to see what would happen. The levitating slab of metal closed in on her, locking her inside the Cradle. The glow was absent and only a faint hum of power remained. Her breathing turned into short gasps until she lost consciousness. Hours later, Stone woke up, outside the Cradle and much more invigorated than before. Even her clothing was pristine, her mind void of clutter – for once.

But still hungry. Always hungry. So as she thought of food, felt the hunger, her captain spoke out of the speaker. Burger crisps? We have them?

Stone scoured the room, and the few around it. She didn't smell the food Captain Golby mentioned but she found it without a problem. No wonder she didn't smell it. She hadn't known that smell was food. It was edible food - something Stone didn't concern herself about, thus making her unable to register smells of those edible foods as foods. Only bad ones and ones she already ate.

She remembered she was going to share some food with the others and thought this crisps would be fine it the captain wanted it. She stood and started walking to where the Captain Golby was when she realized, "Where is the captain anyway? It will take me hours to find him in this giant-beast-flying-ship."

---

A curious frown would be placed on Whisper's face if it wasn't covered by a mask as he stared at the holographic movie in front of him. A kid controlling a robot dinosaur fighting against armed with a group of scavengers. Perhaps fighting wouldn't be the best word. She seemed like she was playing around rather than burning her enemies alive. And taking surprising delight in it too. The thief wasn't sure what worried him more, the kid's behavior or the fact that the Captain seemed to think there was nothing wrong with it. Being fair, Whisper had gotten himself into pretty dangerous situations when he was younger, but nothing of the sort that involved controlling a weapon of mass destruction. He stood unmoving in thought, seemingly not even listening to the captain's next question, before finally breaking his silence.

"How do you know she is your daughter again-"

He was interrupted as the captain's loud voice sounded over the speakers. His gaze followed the speech through the windows, staring at the chocolate trees and the glass lake. Was it even a lake anymore when it was made of glass? And of course, there was the Harbinger State that-

Harbinger what?!

The next words took Whisper by surprise. They had barely even settled into the ship and they were already going on a rescue mission? Who were they even looking for? Not to mention that they were going to be entering in a fortified sky island. Even Whisper had to think twice about stealing from them without a good plan. And Harbinger Estate didn't exactly sound like the name of a weak fortress. Right, and there was the weaponry on top of it.

"Huh, actually Captain, the weapons was something I wanted to talk to you about..." He pondered his words before continuing. "You have a pretty good arsenal down there, but to be quite honest it is a bit of a mess and will take a bit to sort through what weapons are in a usable state or not. Our melee side is good. The material most are made of is of average to excellent quality, so we shouldn't have to worry there." -I bet some of them would fetch a really good price too.- "As for the guns and drones, the majority of them are lacking in ammo and with missing or defective parts, so it will take me a bit more time to sort through which ones I can repair to a decent condition. I can't help much with ammo, but we can probably scrap a few rounds for a skirmish, though... Right, that's beside the point." Whisper shook his head as if reminding himself of what to actually be talking about.

"Captain, don't you think it is ill-advised to get into a conflict of this scale so soon? I mean, we haven't even properly gotten to know each other as a crew, much less prepared a plan to infiltrate a fortified floating island. I don't know how many weapons I'll be able to get working in just a few hours, and not to mention that I don't even know if any of them are made to take a high-security facility head-on. If we wanted to sneak in... I'm not sure all of us would be able to." He said, thinking about the big sentient bug and the lady carrying a very conspicuous stone pillar.

Whisper stopped talking for a few seconds, thinking his words through with care to not provoke the captain. From what he saw the man was a rather light-hearted person, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Would it be possible to postpone this mission until tomorrow, at least until we are able to sort through any useful equipment in the armory? Can the person in there wait?" He thought back to the scenes he saw through the rat. "Most of the crew is either dancing with the maintenance staff or sleeping in the back of the ship, so I'm not sure they will be prepared for a mission so soon..." As soon as those last words came out of his mouth, he second-guessed himself. Would the others really be as worried as him about it? Somehow, thinking about the dancing cat-lady, he thought the answer was obviously no, but then again, it was his methodical and careful way of planning that made him successful in all his thefts, and most important of all, kept him alive. The thought of diving into a floating fortress without preparation didn't sit well with Whisper's most basic instincts.

Golby stiffened, and for a long moment following Whisper's advice he quietly fiddled with the buttons on the console. His expression, of course, was as entirely hidden as Whisper's own face -- but an air of rejection and urgency radiated from his slightly hunched and engaged posture.

"Each day wasted is another day of suffering," he said quietly, half to himself, his pointed sunglasses focused on the image of the Harbinger Estate on the screen. He had to consider Whisper's proposal -- after all, waiting a day was better than complete failure. His leg bounced nervously.

He turned around immediately upon the sound of someone approaching, and with a renewed disposition he bounded out of his seat, gloved hands outstretched to accept the bag of burger crisps from Stone.

"Ah yes, thank you! I'm honored you brought them all this way without devouring them." He ignored the beeping and flashing on the console while he pulled open the bag and stuck a hand inside. He tilted his head up to stare at Cradle. "Stone, right? Have you figured out anything new about Cradle since you last wrote to me?" He pulled out a handful of burger crisps -- which made the whole cockpit smell of ketchup and mustard -- and shoved them under his hood at his neck. There was a sound of crunching and humming from that side of his head, even while Golby spoke clearly. He gestured to Cradle and motioned for Whisper's attention. "Have you factored this in?" he said with a masked grin, while his neck slurped and swallowed -- then rushed to the controls and yanked a lever to steer the ship away from the chocolate-trees it was about to devour.

Behind Stone, a small group of Bobblings had been following her at a distance, too fearful of the destruction she'd wrought in the pantry to get too close, but too curious about what they'd seen to leave her alone. Specifically they eyed Cradle, whispered to themselves, wondered if this shiny rock-box could help them in their mission -- but when could they get close without Stone noticing?

While the ship groaned in protest, Golby shoved more crisps under his hood and watched the screen. "Melee, huh?" he mused to himself.

A few minutes passed -- during which a few Bobblings had climbed up onto the console and had begun fiddling with buttons -- before Golby turned around suddenly and spooked them tumbling into a squeaking heap on the floor. "Maybe you're onto something. Regroup, eat (whatever's left), sleep and prepare! We'll go for Plan B. Be ready first thing in the morning."

He shoved the last of the crisps into his neck, dropped the empty bag and threw his efforts upon the controls. On the screen, a few small fliers skidded by in the distance, closer to the floating island. Golby steered them down, skating over the tops of the trees, and he would remain vague as to what this 'Plan B' entailed. It would eventually become clear that 'Plan B' was an equivalent to 'we'll figure something out as we go.' It was how he had always operated, after all, and he had yet to fail.

But he'd never needed a crew before.

Eventually they made it into the shadow of the island undetected, thanks to the ship's invisibility. They lowered into a clearing, where the ship curled up and settled in the weeds. Not far away were the enormous chains that anchored the Harbinger Estate to the ground; they stretched up high into the sky, where they were bolstered into a massive chiseled rock that contained the fortress. Occasionally small aircraft went back and forth -- and at night, beams of light searched the sky.

"Someone go scout the area," Golby insisted while the ship's noises calmed and the floor stopped moving. "Now or later or in the darkest part of the night, it's up to you -- but in the morning, I think, we'll have something."

Immediately around the ship was tall grass and an old high transmission tower, complete with relic equipment rusting on a high platform. Beyond the grass were trees all around that smelled slightly chocolatey. A few miles one way would lead to a dried-up lakebed. In the opposite direction stretched the Harbinger's chains.

At the base of the chains was a huge clearing of weathered concrete, to which the chains were secured. The center of the concrete had a landing-pad symbol painted on it. To one side was a small, efficient guard tower. In front of the guard tower, two uniformed people played cards and drank coffee and complained about the local wildlife.

Golby, meanwhile, would spend the night behind the locked door of the bright-room -- not to be disturbed.

With the bag of unusual food taken from her, Stone stared at her captain devouring the food she just delivered. Was he praising her for not eating it? It smelled weird and she wasn’t sure what she’d do to it. She shook her head and plopped on the floor, her glowing Cradle landing with a faint thud too.

"I… hmm… I got inside it, I think?” She paused. It was really confusing and it was just not making sense in her head. ”I don’t really understand this but I think it’s not just a glowing stone.”

”Maybe,” she added.

Captain Golby talked to another masked person before fiddling with the things on the ship-monster-food thing. She didn’t understand how it worked and something screamed at her that if she took a bite off it, she’d regret it – not for herself but for everything else. It was curious. Interesting. But not interesting enough she’d try it anytime soon.

She had other foods to think about for now anyway. Her captain messed with more controls then finally a lever, followed by a groan that sounded so unlike her hungry stomach. She stood up immediately and Cradle followed suit, glowing a sunset orange in its midst.

Not waiting for anything else to happen, she returned the way she came from and ignored just about everything. Cradle followed her idly, illuminating everything she passed – which didn’t’ really matter, she won’t pay attention to them.

As if guided by a homing beacon, Stone returned to her now-favorite place on the ship. She leaned on the wall and stared longingly at the food still left in the kitchens, cupboards, and everwhere else in the room and the ones adjacent to it. Her captain was thankful and praised her when she didn’t eat the weird food she delivered. Maybe, if she toughened up just a bit and lie down, she’d be praised again for not eating.

"Maybe I should do that."

It was contradictory – as eating was the best reward of them all for her – but she behaved like a normal person would and didn’t devour everything on sight, or smell. It was a long night for her. A long food-less one.

---

The cat-girl strut on over to where the waddling-thing had bleated anxiously. "Ahhhh... but something ya fancy there, Mool? Aye, let this here lass aid ya in yer endeavours."

A few moments more and Mool had ceased its nervous shuffling. Lucky ejected one of her wicked claws and sliced open one side of the cereal box with ease. With a satisfied smile, she had lain the cereal box down before the waddling-thing. But Mool refused to eat. In fact, he shrank away from Lucky.

Lucky's baby blues narrowed at the waddling thing, vertical pupils widening, suspicious at its reaction to her food offering. The cat-girl was rather put off. It was not yet eat time and here she had broken a rule for this little ungrateful piece of--

"What's that Dots? Ooooh! Me claw...? Right! Let's remedy that!" suddenly the single wicked blade slipped back into her gauntlet hidden nead the bandages, "help a sista' out here wouldja, me girlie and give me a key to sing in..?"

Rumbling softly, and rather mellodically, from her chest was Luckiy's precious talent; purr-songin'. In such close vicinity, Mool should feel slightly uplifted, even more slightly in awe, and even more at ease and amicable. "There now, lad. All better'n before, aye? Eat up then. And thankee for helpin' t'find the loo fer us. I can take it from here. Smell it from beyond that door, i can. But stop yer jealous eyes, Dots. We eat when our time is, girlie. Now then. Off we go. Ta, Moolie-mools..."

Lucky snatched up Dots, slipped past the door, closed it tight behind her and traipsed past the crew doors till she neared the loo. But not before pausing to inspect the bright pink decor'd door and the shimmering one. She dared to not touch either, but inadvertantly, she stroked at her bandaged arm. There was something inside that bandaged arm that contained similar kinds of energies and forces as the shimmering door. A dry swallow did Lucky give before moving on.

But of course, she never made it to the loo. Instead, curiosity had gotten the better of her and so she had climbed up the wall and perched above the open door to the bridge where Captain Golby and Whisper stood. Big baby blues peered in at them, shining, wide, and upsidedown. There was noway one of her lowly station would ever boldly strut onto the bridge without permission. But spying...? Sure, why the hell not...



Much she had gleaned from just staring at the lot of them. Captain Golby seemed to be a good captain and sire. Stone was just as strange and wondrous as her giant, loyal automaton, Cradle. But that Whisper fella...? Something definitely wrong with it. As to what exactly, Lucky could not put a finger on it right now. The voice behind the mask? Perhaps, but time would tell what was wrong with the masked male.

But as soon as they landed upon the chained down estate, Lucky felt that hum once more. Her mind seemed to clear of the nonsensical clutter and whimsical fancies that only a lone and lonely cat-girl would allow in. She could feel it coming on. There was a mission at hand. There was the slow-burn calm. There she was feeling all so useful once more.

_{"With purpose then, girlie..."}

Lucky dropped from her perch, brushed herself off, took a rigid stance, both hands clutched behind her back like a good little number. The blue of her eyes dimmed; they dirtied to the hue of gun-metal. "Field Agent 06 reporting for scouting duty, Captain," said Lucky in a eerily dead calm manner, "permission to board the bridge, sire?"

Upon permission granted, Lucky would march almost trance-like towards the captain. A quick look around at the controls and systems of the helm she took in, then she continued to sweep across the visuals on screen and out the bay windows. "That tower looks like our best vantage, sire. 06 will solo there, set up ears, tap their transmissions and hold post. Once triangulate setup complete then 06 will relay visual info and possible threats, entry routes, rendezvous points and running water. 06 ready for further instruction and ready to gear up and deploy on your command, sire..."