TUELLER: “Sure this is a good idea, Doc?”
STORY: Alejo, two of the ships have started moving towards you. They’re maybe ten minutes from intercept at slow burn, faster if they hustle.
MILLICENT: “Of course, now I’ll just send these off and they’ll be goose chasing for”
TUELLER: Tueller checks on the status of the guns.
MILLICENT: “You know, it’s possible I left the subspace metadata in the message.”
TUELLER: “That’s good, right?”
MILLICENT: “Not in this case, no.”
STORY: “That’s bad.” Loll stands behind the three of you, in the doorway to the bridge.
ALEJO: “Someone’s taken an interest in us,” Alejo says, angling away from the two ships and increasing speed, flying casual, but in a hurry.
MILLICENT: “In this case I think it may have been a bit like jumping into the room screaming our name.”
TUELLER: The shuttle crash wasn’t even going to leave him a charming scar, but he was going to be in the hospital bed for four weeks while the microdoc repaired his spine. Four weeks of paralyzation to avoid a lifetime of paralyzation was a worthwhile trade to make, but it was just long enough to fall for, flirt with, profess love for, and get horribly crushingly rejected by Nurse Adaego. It was only years later than Tueller realized that’s exactly what Esi planned for him.
—
STORY: Millie!
STORY: It’s dark, and your cheek is cold.
STORY: It’s laying against something smooth.
STORY: Oh wait. You’re on the floor.
STORY: And the lights are off, but there’s a little starlight coming in from the portholes.
MILLICENT: Millie lifts her head cautiously.
STORY: You can see the rest of the crew, sans Alejo, also opening their eyes and picking themselves up. Holy cow, does your head hurt.
MILLICENT: Millie winces and finds a bulkhead to lean against.
MILLICENT: “Noma, dear, do you have a status report for us, please and thank you.”
STORY: Tueller, your nose is slightly wedged between the slats of the floor grate.
TUELLER: Tueller sniffs and pulls it out gingerly.
STORY: Alejo, you wake up as well, and see through the front window the familiar sight of Earth’s moon, Luna.
STORY: The lights flicker back on. “Scanning.”
ALEJO: Alejo stretches his neck and sits forward. He flips on the coms. “We’re home.”
STORY: “We have returned to Sol. All ship systems appear intact.”
STORY: “Is the crew alive?”
TUELLER: Tueller is working to be sure of that himself.
TUELLER: “Sound off if you’re alive.”
TUELLER: “Tueller, check.”
STORY: There’s a general moan.
STORY: At least four people went “mmmmrh” as if that is sufficient.
ALEJO: Alejo checks the local scanners to see what’s around them, looking for threats in the vicinity while he waits to hear the sound-off report.
STORY: Kahn sits up and looks around groggily. “Kahn, Jenny, Loll here.”
STORY: Sweet rolls over. “Sweet.”
STORY: “Figgan. Akilah’s barfing.”
TUELLER: Tueller gives Millie a glance, sees that she probably doesn’t understand “Sound off,” and says, “Doc looks alright.”
MILLICENT: Millie groans out, “Present.”
STORY: Fiona hops down from a high shelf and nuzzles your leg, Tueller.
STORY: Alejo, Assessment + Expertise please
TUELLER: Is Alejo in a different room?
STORY: He is. You’re in the galley, he’s in the bridge.
ALEJO: /roll 2d6-1
STORY: ablair01 rolled 3 – 1 = 2
STORY: Alejo, there are at least five ships within range, and you know the general order for your capture or death is still active in this system.
STORY: No sign whether any of them have clocked you yet.
TUELLER: Tueller stops and retches like he’s in fast forward. Quickly aims for the drainer/recycler in the corner of every room and throws up just a little bit, straightening up just as fast.
TUELLER: “God fuck I hate that feeling.”
TUELLER: “We’re good down here, Alejo, as it goes. How’s it going up there?”
TUELLER: Tueller taps his comms, “Doc, this working again?”
ALEJO: He looks for the nearest place to get out of sight and off scanners, taking the controls and veering quickly in whatever direction that is. “Hold tight. We’ve got company too close for comfort,” he shouts into the coms.
TUELLER: Tueller runs up to the bridge, double-time, to take fire control if needs be.
ALEJO: “And someone get on the turrets.”
ALEJO: We have cloaking, yes? Or stealth of some sort?
STORY: Alejo, you’ve got two options, you can head for the jump relay and hope nobody in line is looking for your ship, or wild jump to Alpha Centauri. Flying the long way to AC will take 5 years.
STORY: You don’t have cloaking, but you’re a ship that doesn’t show up on most scanners, and you’re hard to recognize in visual range.
MILLICENT: Millie crawls to a console and starts typing.
MILLICENT: She wants to identify the crafts or type of crafts in line in front of them
ALEJO: He heads for the jump relay. “Noma, please start calculations for another wild jump, in case we need to bolt.”
STORY: “What is the destination, Captain Soto?”
ALEJO: “Alpha Centauri.”
STORY: “Done, sir.”
MILLICENT: Specifically, how many of them might be tempted to take them in.
STORY: “I calculate a 33% chance we will arrive at our destination without major complications.”
STORY: Millie! Assessment + Expertise
MILLICENT: /roll 2d6 + 2
STORY: josh rolled 8 + 2 = 10
ALEJO: “If we get anywhere without major complications, that’ll be a first,” Alejo mutters, trying to keep as much distance as possible between Peregrine and other ships.
STORY: Millie, two are Erde-Maris ships, two are unlisted freighters, likely privately owned, and one is Exodus-owned.
STORY: Any of them might see a profit in turning you in, but likely none are actively looking for you.
STORY: Also, you gain a data point around these ships!
MILLICENT: Okay, Millie scans the news since they’ve been gone looking for a ship with a higher price on its head.
STORY: You find the name of one, sure.
MILLICENT: Millie creates a message, very badly encrypted, that the other, more wanted ship, is in a distant corner of the system and appears to have suffered damage to weapons. She then “accidentally” sends it to each ship using a faked origin address for the message.
STORY: Millie, let’s have a Face Adversity + Interface for that one!
MILLICENT: + my data point
MILLICENT: /roll 2d6 +3
STORY: josh rolled 2 + 3 = 5
STORY: You send through the message and wait.
TUELLER: “Sure this is a good idea, Doc?”
STORY: Alejo, two of the ships have started moving towards you. They’re maybe ten minutes from intercept at slow burn, faster if they hustle.
MILLICENT: “Of course, now I’ll just send these off and they’ll be goose chasing for”
TUELLER: Tueller checks on the status of the guns.
MILLICENT: “You know, it’s possible I left the subspace metadata in the message.”
TUELLER: “That’s good, right?”
MILLICENT: “Not in this case, no.”
STORY: “That’s bad.” Loll stands behind the three of you, in the doorway to the bridge.
ALEJO: “Someone’s taken an interest in us,” Alejo says, angling away from the two ships and increasing speed, flying casual, but in a hurry.
MILLICENT: “In this case I think it may have been a bit like jumping into the room screaming our name.”
ALEJO: “Don’t think whatever you did worked, Doc.”
STORY: Alejo, let’s have a Face Adversity + Mettle to hustle on out of there.
ALEJO: /roll 2d6+2
STORY: ablair01 rolled 9 + 2 = 11
STORY: You duck behind Luna and take a weird angle out towards Mars, avoiding anything close enough for planetary sensors to pick you up. In an hour you’re outside sensor range of all five ships, and the three new ones that have popped up in range aren’t showing any particular interest in you.
TUELLER: “Man, I am not okay with being back here.”
STORY: In the galley, Akilah returns a few rags to the bucket under the sink after having run them through the laundry.
TUELLER: “Noma, this your doing?”
ALEJO: Alejo leans back in the pilot’s chair, flipping on the auto.
STORY: Jenny, Sweet, and Kahn get to the enormous task of returning all your stuff to their shelves and bins, given that it was all until recently in crates and upside down.
STORY: “Tueller, the only safe option was to return to our previous jump location. A new destination would be an unacceptable risk.”
TUELLER: “Fair enough.”
ALEJO: “We need some semblance of a plan, for sure.” He turns and faces Tueller and Millie.
TUELLER: “The rest of the crew has the right idea. Get this ship back into shape. Get back to work. Do all that while we get out of here.”
MILLICENT: “Does that mean you’d take the jump that got us to that backwater before?”
STORY: Figgan settles in to the Engineering bay, doing some soldering and cobbling together some protective covers for the new parts.
STORY: “I don’t understand the question, Millie.”
MILLICENT: “Did you make a wild jump to that planet or had you been there before?”
ALEJO: This catches Alejo’s curiosity. He looks at Millie and then at the closest com speaker.
STORY: “Any jump outside a jump relay is a wild jump, Millie. The return trip was simply less dangerous because it required no additional calculations.”
MILLICENT: “You’re not answering my question, dear.”
STORY: “I do not believe I personally have visited that planet before, but I cannot say without my complete codebase.”
MILLICENT: “Thank you.”
MILLICENT: Millie takes a breath. “Okay, I’ve got a lab to unpack.” Millie heads to her lab.
TUELLER: “To answer your question, Ejo, after this last experience I’m taking a break from making any of the decisions, so I believe it’s best for me to make sure my armor is in good shape, and check on the Gregor, and just generally be ready to be the point of the spear of where better people will point me.”
TUELLER: Tueller walks out of the room before anyone can respond to him and sets out to make himself and the ship maximally ready for combat again.
STORY: Where to, Alejo?
ALEJO: Alejo watches him leave then stands. “Noma, let me know if anyone or anything seems to take an interest in us. Let’s set course for the Ark. But keep us outta sight as much as possible.”
STORY: “Acknowledged, Captain.”
STORY: Okay! We’ve got some down time before you make it back to the Ark. Time, I think, for some Cramped Quarters scenes.
STORY: Anyone want to go first?
TUELLER: Tueller needs to talk to someone, but I’m not sure who’s the best. Akilah is a definite possibility.
TUELLER: I think it probably has to be Akilah.
TUELLER: Tueller’s a mess right now, to be honest. The other option is for us to do a heist and steal us a psychiatrist.
TUELLER: I don’t know how far along we are, but Tueller’s order of priorities are to set up and clean his armor, get to the Gregor and do diagnostics on that, and then eventually get his room set up.
TUELLER: Does Akilah approach Tueller? Or do we just run into each other?
TUELLER: Also, I need to roll. Forgot about that.
TUELLER: /roll 2d6
STORY: chris.stuart rolled 7
STORY: You return to your room late on the first day back, and find Akilah in there, folding a sweater and putting it back in your drawer. Most of your belongings have been put back away.
TUELLER: Tueller stands there, watching this happen, at a loss for words.
STORY: She hums a hello when you open the door, not really bothering to explain anything.
TUELLER: Tueller grunts. “Thsss.”
TUELLER: —that’s an extraordinarily clipped “Thanks,” btw.
STORY: “Ready to talk yet?”
TUELLER: Tueller sits down on the made bed.
TUELLER: “No, which I think means I should.”
TUELLER: Tueller pulls his gloves off, placing them besides the bed, where they promptly fade into the background. He sets his sheathed knife next to them.
STORY: “What’s going on?”
STORY: She sits next to you.
STORY: “This isn’t about that woman. You barely knew her.”
TUELLER: “Oh, I knew her. I didn’t know her, but I knew her.”
TUELLER: “Privileged kid with delusions of grandeur, whose family crushed her when she got uppity? I at least know that a little bit.”
STORY: Akilah nods and pats your leg. “Yeah. I knew her too.”
TUELLER: “Also, I didn’t know her, but I _liked_ her. She had a good heart and didn’t deserve that. And I brought that on to her. She had her own story going there and I stepped in and that story ended.”
STORY: “You really think it’s your fault?”
TUELLER: “It was enough my fault for me to remind me of the ones that really truly were my fault.”
TUELLER: “Nandini and Padma…”
TUELLER: Tueller trails off. “Shit, Padma didn’t actually…”
STORY: “Padma?”
STORY: “Dude, she was at my wedding.”
STORY: “She’s fine.”
TUELLER: “Yeah. Sorry. _She_ is.”
STORY: “Nandini wasn’t your fault, T.”
STORY: “That was my team, and Esinam’s orders. You were on the ground, but I made the call to send you without Alejo.”
TUELLER: “You put here there. I pulled the goddamn trigger that shot her out of the fucking ship.”
TUELLER: “Anyway, this is not really that. That’s a death that’s on me. But mostly it’s that I think death is the only thing I’m really good at.”
STORY: “Aw, little brother.” She puts an arm around your shoulder, reaching up to do so.
STORY: “You’re good at lots of things.”
TUELLER: “Esi was right about me. I’m not a fucking hero.”
STORY: That she doesn’t have an answer for, and you can tell. She looks down at her shoes.
STORY: “…Yeah. I don’t know if any of us are.”
TUELLER: “And I’m not nearly as smart as I think I am. Well-read, sure.”
TUELLER: “Good with money.”
STORY: “Pfff. Who needs smart. You can reach the high shelves and you cook pretty good.”
STORY: “But listen, T. You wanna be a hero? Let’s start.”
TUELLER: “Fucking how? My instincts are bad. They’re so bad.”
TUELLER: “I picked a fight with a guy so I could kill him face down gurgling his brains out in a bath just so it MIGHT give me a leg up somehow. It wasn’t just a bad idea, it was a bad idea that _seemed_ to me to be the exact right idea at the time.”
STORY: She exhales long and slow. “I was wondering about that.”
TUELLER: “I’m a morally stunted ape who can quote Shakespeare or Kafka when it suits me, or will surprise the person I’m talking to long enough so I can crush their windpipe.”
STORY: “Well. I’ll think about it.”
STORY: “You think about it too?”
STORY: “I think what makes someone a hero is that they want to be one.”
STORY: “Well, also that they don’t kill people for no reason.”
STORY: “So that’s two goals, yeah?”
TUELLER: Tueller nods.
TUELLER: “That’s…well, a goal and a plan.”
TUELLER: “Having a family that practices genocide as a back-up plan may have fucked me up more than I knew.”
STORY: “They’re not so bad.”
STORY: “…Okay, they’re really bad.”
TUELLER: “They really are.”
TUELLER: “And hopefully we hit the gate without them finding us again.”
TUELLER: Scene.
MILLICENT: Millie and Kahn?
STORY: Go!
MILLICENT: Millie’s lab is full of half-empty boxes. She is unpacking, more slowly since she discovered a bottle of cask-aged something or another. As Kahn walks by her open door she is struggling to set a piece of equipment on a shelf, wobbling more than is strictly necessary for the weight.
STORY: He rushes in and helps you get it settled.
STORY: And smells your breath. “Found that bottle of Demeter, doctor?”
MILLICENT: “Aye, Mr. Vespertine, I surely did. Can I offer you a graduated cylinder of same?”
MILLICENT: “I haven’t found the glasses yet.”
STORY: “Thanks, I’ll pass. Still got a lot of heavy lifting to do, and I’m not gonna be ready to relax until we’ve jumped.”
MILLICENT: /roll 2d6
STORY: josh rolled 5
MILLICENT: Millie frowns. “Well, more for me, I suppose.”
MILLICENT: “Have you heard from our favorite xenobiologist, Mr. Vespertine? I’ve been wondering how he’s been keeping himself.”
STORY: He looks down at you unhappily. “I’d rather not, doctor.”
MILLICENT: “Rather not talk to him? Or me?”
STORY: “Rather not talk about this.”
MILLICENT: “Yes, I.”
MILLICENT: “I understand. It was rather insensitive of me to ask.”
MILLICENT: “I’m not. It doesn’t come easily to me, Mr. Vespertine.” Millie draws herself up.
STORY: He sighs. “What doesn’t?”
MILLICENT: Millie sits, gingerly. “People.”
MILLICENT: “Their needs, their feelings.”
MILLICENT: “I get so caught up, Mr. Vespertine, in the bigger picture…” Millie drains her volumetric flask of whiskey.
STORY: “Maybe slow it down, doc?”
MILLICENT: “I.” Millie’s staring through the wall, past Kahn, past the ship. “I can’t seem to. Maybe that’s my problem. I. Rush right past the people in pursuit of a,” she waves, “a grand, unified theory. An answer.”
MILLICENT: “And I want to believe I can slow it down. Find meaning in the smaller, personal victories. But what if I can’t? What if I just. Can’t?”
STORY: Kahn rubs his eyes and looks impatient. “Look, Millie, I.” He shakes his head. “I’m not the person to talk to you about this.”
STORY: “You realize I gave up the only person I’ve ever loved out of loyalty to this crew? That he’s just off somewhere having his own life because he couldn’t square _what you did_ with helping you keep flying?”
STORY: “Your pursuit of an answer meant I don’t get one.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “I know. I.”
MILLICENT: “Oh!”
MILLICENT: Millie dives into a pile of boxes and papers fly. She comes up with a notebook. It’s full of crazy-person math.
MILLICENT: “I built a time machine, just theoretically!” She rushes to add. “It, _should_ work. But there was a better than zero chance that it would also break the chain of observable causality.”
MILLICENT: “So I scrapped it!” She says this proudly as she tosses the notebook over her shoulder, looking to Kahn for affirmation.
STORY: He stares at you, completely dumbfounded.
STORY: He shakes his head silently and walks out.
STORY: Alejo!
ALEJO: We’re in bed. Sweet, cuddling. After. Alejo lays flat, one arm around Aki, looking up at the ceiling.
ALEJO: /roll 2d6
STORY: ablair01 rolled 8
STORY: “That stain on the ceiling is new.”
STORY: “Must have been sediment settling there.”
ALEJO: “Ship’s been . . . through hell and back.”
STORY: “Mm.”
ALEJO: He takes a deep breath, trying to find a way of saying what’s next. “So, we should probably talk, don’t you think?” He tips his head towards her.
STORY: She keeps looking at the ceiling. “About what?”
ALEJO: “Aki, you are brilliant. Strong. And a terrible poker player.”
ALEJO: He smiles and props up on an elbow. “You tell me what we need to talk about, ’cause I know it’s something.”
STORY: She shakes her head. “Nuh uh.”
STORY: And closes her eyes.
ALEJO: “Nuh uh?” He flops back down and thinks about this for a moment. “Alright, so let me start. What you said, back on medieval nightmare planet, about making a difference. Wanting to make a difference.” He pauses. “You don’t feel like we are. Or you are. Am I getting warmer?”
STORY: She exhales. “Why does everyone want to talk to me about this today.”
STORY: “Yes, that sucks, we suck, we’re not doing anything that matters, Alejo.”
STORY: “We’re just… still flying. That’s it.”
ALEJO: He lays quiet for a long time. “Yeah.”
STORY: “That’s all right with you?”
ALEJO: “No. No, it’s not. It fucking sucks. And . . . ” He stops, his jaw set hard, looking up at the ceiling. “No, it’s not alright.”
ALEJO: He kicks a leg out from under the sheets. “I thought we were getting Noma back. I thought that mattered. That it was the first step towards something that mattered.”
STORY: “Yeah.”
STORY: “Well. I guess we gotta figure out where the rest of her is, then.”
ALEJO: He looks over at her. “I’m so angry at her. I’m so angry.” He looks up at the com. “That fucking planet. Those people. We ran away from that.”
ALEJO: “And I feel like it broke us.”
ALEJO: He shakes his head. Then takes another deep breath. “How is Tueller?”
STORY: She tilts her head. “Broken.”
ALEJO: “Yeah.”
STORY: “Yeah.”
ALEJO: “We’re going to get Noma’s code. But I can’t ask you, or anyone else, to follow on that suicide mission. If you want off, now’s the time, Aki. That’s why I’m asking about this today.” He looks softly at her.
STORY: She looks up at you, one eyebrow raised. “You trying to get rid of me?”
ALEJO: “’Course.” He smiles.
STORY: “Not gonna do it that easily, Soto.” She rolls over and pulls the blanket over her shoulder.
STORY: “Look, I’ll let you know when shit’s that bad.”
ALEJO: “I’ll hold you to that.” He curls up to her. “Eres la noche, callada y constelada. Déjame correr para estar en paz en tu silencio,” he whispers, giving her a little squeeze before letting his mind drift off towards sleep.
STORY: BARF
ALEJO: –His only bit of poetry!
STORY: Any plans before you make Arkfall?
TUELLER: Just a sec, let me check my XP.
TUELLER: 4 XP to Plan: “Find Noma’s Code.”
TUELLER: Specifically, Tueller would like to send out Skip Drones to all his business contacts to try to shake things lose.
STORY: Okay! They will take some time to make their way around, but you’ll hear back as they are answered.
TUELLER: Tueller spends a fair amount of time isolated from the crew in the secret compartment writing these missives, personalizing it to each contact, and occasionally crosses paths as he heads to the airlock to launch skip drones.
MILLICENT: —oh shit I was going to do that
ALEJO: Alejo would like to spend 4 XP as well, to find a weakness of Chandra’s — some vulnerability to exploit, or try to exploit. Specifically, he’ll work every contact he has (he’s using his Contacts skill as well, if that is something that can be leveraged).
STORY: Okay! I’ll come up with something for that as well.
STORY: Millie?
MILLICENT: I’ll spend an XP on Research to get a data point on AI
STORY: Ey!
STORY: All right, you arrive back at the Ark, and its familiar glow is relaxing on approach. As you get within visual range, your various inboxes pop to life with new mail.
STORY: Tueller, you and Akilah both have messages from Musimbwa, wishing you safety and a north star, an ancient superstition from the first wildcatters.
STORY: Millie, you receive an encrypted message.
MILLICENT: Millie checks it in her lab
STORY: Millie, a video message from Tux pops up. He smiles, tight-lipped.
TUELLER: Tueller prepares a skip drone to Musimbwa, wishing him well, good hunting, and love to both him and Padma.
STORY: “So, this means I’m dead. Sorry.” He shrugs. “Had this set to a dead man’s switch, been shutting it off every day. Not sure what happened to me, but I’d appreciate it if you could find out? This ought to be sending coordinates along with the message, so. Be careful. Good luck. And if you can find my body, I’d like to be smoked. I always thought that’d be fun.”
MILLICENT: “Oh. Tux.”
STORY: The message blinks out, then comes back on.
STORY: “Oh, and if Junior’s still alive, you’re now his legal guardian, so good luck with that one!”
STORY: He gives a big toothy smile and a thumbs up and the image freezes.
MILLICENT: “Oh shit.”
STORY: Alejo, Tueller, you’re on the bridge waiting for an assignment for docking in the ring when Akilah comes in with a printout. She places it between you on a console.
STORY: “Don’t you know this woman?”
STORY: It’s a bounty listing for the Antaam, the leader of the Maitri on the Ark.
TUELLER: “Yes. She is…strength.”
STORY: It’s more money than you’ve made in a year. Says she has kidnapped a councilor, one of the seven most powerful people on the Ark and, arguably, in known space.
ALEJO: Alejo nods once.
TUELLER: Reading on, “Maybe not…wise strength.”
STORY: Has last known whereabouts and contact information for collection.
TUELLER: Tueller notes the name of the councilor of research purposes.
TUELLER: Unless he already knows anything about her.
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows as he finishes reading. He looks over to Tueller then to Akilah. “We could use the money.”
TUELLER: “Do I not make enough money for this crew?”
STORY: She’s the head of the Vitruvan Order, the ambassadorial branch of their government.
TUELLER: “We are not hurting.”
ALEJO: “We’re not hurting, but we might need a war chest for Chandra.” He shrugs. “Maybe.”
MILLICENT: Millie types for a couple of seconds, not realizing there’s not a keyboard in front of her. She swings her chair over to a monitor and starts trying to check out the coordinates and check them against known disasters.
MILLICENT: Anything on Millie’s end before I interrupt the dollar sign eyes?
STORY: Nothing, Millie. It’s a region of space where maps aren’t too reliable, given that it’s inside an asteroid field, but other than that no known recent events.
STORY: “Plus, rescuing a councilor won’t hurt our reputation.”
ALEJO: Alejo agrees with a simple nod, studying the notice more carefully.
TUELLER: “The Antaam…she was honorable and proud. I fear this would not just be a bounty for us.”
TUELLER: “I may have stockholm syndrome where the Maitri are involved.”
ALEJO: Alejo looks up at him. “Maybe. But you could also be right.” He looks at Aki. “Do you know the councilor or anything about her?”
TUELLER: “Meddling in this might also risk Loll.” Tueller adds.
ALEJO: “Yeah. Good point.”
TUELLER: Tueller sounds like he has of late: lacking confidence.
ALEJO: Alejo notices Millie. And how she isn’t looking at anyone. He turns to face her.
MILLICENT: Millie walks sadly over to a console, checks to see that the conversation is at a holding place and brings up the message. “I’m afraid I’ve got our next mission.”
MILLICENT: “I’m so sorry, Alejo.”
MILLICENT: Millie plays the recording.
ALEJO: Alejo sits. He doesn’t say anything.
MILLICENT: Millie walks over while the message plays and puts her hand on his arm.
ALEJO: Eventually, he looks up at her and the others. “You’ve got the coordinates?”
MILLICENT: Millie nods.
ALEJO: “Any . . . ” He trails off and swallows. “Any indication of what might have happened?” He shakes his head, realizing this is a dumb question too late.
MILLICENT: Millie squeezes his arm and answers a relevant question. “No, it’s a relatively empty part of space. In the middle of an asteroid field.
ALEJO: “How far away?”
MILLICENT: “Three weeks on a hard burn.”
ALEJO: He closes his eyes hard. “Damn it, Tux.” He stands. “I need to go, deal with this. But we also need to get some traction on Noma’s code.”
STORY: “Plus the Antaam,” Akilah offers.
TUELLER: “We should sit on this. Hit the newsfeeds, hit a bunch of drinks. Not go off half-cocked just yet.”
TUELLER: “I know. Unlike me. I know.”
MILLICENT: “Whatever killed Tux, the trail of it is growing cold. And he set me up for his dead man’s switch. I feel responsible for that young Grell.”
TUELLER: Tueller gets quiet, goes over to a corner. “Whatever you think is right.”
MILLICENT: Millie frowns at him
MILLICENT: Millie does a Tueller voice, “Whatever you think is right. What is that? Who is that?”
TUELLER: Tueller looks up sharply.
TUELLER: Stares at Millie.
ALEJO: “You’re not wrong, Tueller, but neither is the Doc. Maybe we need to split up. Cover more ground.” He shakes his head. “I hate that idea, but maybe.”
MILLICENT: “We’re two former monsters, trying to make our way back to human and you’re going to leave me crawling toward morality on my own?”
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head.
MILLICENT: “Uh uh. We grow _together_, tall man.”
TUELLER: “I’m not a former monster.”
MILLICENT: “Well I sure as hell am. And I don’t need you getting sulky and quiet right now. What do you actually think we should do?”
TUELLER: “Finding and avenging a former friend seems cleaner and less messy.”
MILLICENT: “Avenging?”
MILLICENT: “_Avenging_?”
TUELLER: “Finding the Antaam and dealing with…politics and honor and right and wrong and…I’ll fuck that up somehow.”
MILLICENT: Millie throws her hands up
TUELLER: “You’re not fucking helping Millie.”
TUELLER: —This is, to my knowledge, the first time Tueller’s called her Millie.
ALEJO: Alejo frowns now.
MILLICENT: “Look, I did denial in my lab when I got this message. I moved right on to stage two. Willing to admit that.”
MILLICENT: “But every task we take can’t be about violence. _First_, anyway.”
TUELLER: Tueller walks right out of the room.
TUELLER: Without a word.
ALEJO: “Jesus, Doc.” Alejo whispers and shakes his head.
MILLICENT: “You’re faster than me, but I’m still right, you tall idiot!” Millie calls after him.
MILLICENT: Millie spins and points at Alejo. “You. Set a course. We’re doing the good guy one. And we’ll probably need one of those good guys speeches, too, so get started on that.”
STORY: Akilah holds her mouth as if she’s starting to ask a question and just waits.
ALEJO: Alejo looks at Aki. “You think you, T, Kahn, and Fig a can handle this Antaam thing? And get whatever info Tueller’s been angling for with his skip drones?”
ALEJO: He ignores Millie for the moment.
STORY: Akilah blows air out of her mouth.
STORY: “I… guess?”
ALEJO: “Don’t get killed. That’s an order.” He gives Aki a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be back in two months.”