The Clockwork Man was blown away by the sheer volumes of data his small spider-companion was sending him directly from the mainframe of the spaceship. With its vital systems re-engaged he had quickly summarised that, as he had first thought, the ship was not of Mystan make, despite the fact that they were a space faring nation. Rather, a species far off in distant space had created the craft, sentient machines if the databases were anything to go on, the Clockwork Man couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship, a certain rightness, with the situation.

George, on the other hand, was more pragmatic about the situation.

Some time passed aboard the ship, with the living quarters sufficient for a short journey on very limited rations. The Clockwork Man had no need to worry, but his companion would have to make do with some form of super-nutrient locked away in the living quarters. Apparently the machine race had organic companions, or perhaps it was for some other reason. 

The Clockwork Man explained, over an extended period of time, exactly what the duo were now doing. They were seeking the Mystan Elder, taken by some form of technologically advanced species who resembled humans (for a number of reasons, similar to how the Clockwork Man was able to tell Arty himself was human at a near glance.) Presumebly through being forced under the confinements of the ship the two would get to know each other at least passably, though how forthcoming Arty would be was questionable. The Clockwork Man would reveal little of his past or his objectives, but say that he was from a planet of humans. The ship hurtled through empty space for some time, shifting strangely as if pulled through into different sections entirely, it was somewhat beyond the Clockwork Man’s own ability to comprehend.

Then, finally, after a long pursuit using the incredibly advanced tracking systems of the spaceship, their journey was at an end.

“The scanning equipment leaves no margin for error, the ‘ship’ we are tracking has not left that planet.” The Clockwork Man pointed down out the window, seemingly taking in his stride the outer-wordly experience, despite coming from a relatively low-tech world. “It does not look inviting, that much is evident.” He observed drily. The ship broke the atmosphere and plummeted down, and the Clockwork Man would have gritted his teeth if he had any. The Clockwork Spider was completely in control now, and by extension, its half-complete matrix. Should it not be sufficient, they would likely be making a rather more forceful landing than expected.

Fortunately, the ship set down in a barren wasteland devoid of life, beneath a black sky just as uninviting. The signal they sought was somewhere in the wilderness ahead, so the ship had calculated the safest distance to land to remain undetected, a relatively easy feet due to the intense distorting effects of electric storms and the generally terrible environment. 

“We’ve arrived.” The Clockwork Man said finally, walking towards the exit. He had long since explained that Arty was under no obligation to join him any further, he could remain with the ship and even fly it home if he wanted, or if he could. The spider scampered up after the Clockwork Man, jumping onto his back and clinging to his tattered shirt.