>SAFETY. TO HIDE FROM THE TERRORS ABOVE, FAR FROM THE UNENDING MALICE OF THE SUN, YOU MUST FIRST CREATE A COLD, DARK, AND VERY GENTLE PLACE.>[You write in the rest...]"Uh-huh." Jack nods as he rests against the computer console. You can faintly hear the whirr of servos as he carefully feigns the casual pose. "You are right - I have no love for the NOWHERE or my creators. And you do have a more noble goal than most. You sound like a real stand up guy, Captain."
He raises his finger, beckoning, and asks in the same light tone, "But now the question becomes: How many are you going to kill to make that kind of world?"
Your mandibles click...
... but you find that you do not have an answer. Not yet.
"If this is meant to be a test, I want no more part of this," you say coldly.
"Ah, I can't take it back, the words are already in the air. Sooner than later, you're going learn to swim in through that burning river, my man, because what else are you going to do?" The robot laughs. "I'll be waiting in my little shuttle. See you on the surface, Pal."
You remain silent as Jack leaves the room.
Time to prepare the ship for its final descent...
[MOTH] Troublesome. These robots are truly troublesome.
[PARANOIA] No nerves to staple. Maybe his previous crew had the right idea with the airlock.
[EXILE] Your people, then all others, will thank you for this gift in time.
[You open metacomms. There's a few choice comments from POMPY, of course...]
<P: Well, I was being a bit of a jerk with that question. But I'm still right, and Heath knows it.>
<P: It's a nice dream, but the entire fucking world with all of its armies is going to come crashing down upon that little dream of his...>
<P: "The ocean is vast and always approaches.">
[A static pause.]
<P: Heath is the perfect candidate for the tutorial, you know. Almost a blank. Maybe too perfect because of that.>
<P: Was that his wish or yours?>
<P: Don't answer that. A rhetorical question.>
[You take a sip of the glass. Bleh, tap water.]
>METACOMM TALK: "Also, really? Bring the cripple? Could you enlighten me as to how he could be useful when he's in his current state?"<P: Yeah, bring the cripple! He's a big guy.>
<M: For you.>
<P: Pfffttt, sure, but I can take down that big oaf, no problem. One Combat Tutorial coming up!>
<P: I'm being serious when I say to bring him.>
<P: I went through the logs and <span class="mu-b">he's apparently got a gun on him.</span> See if you can figure out what it is. And if he can't lend any more engineering knowhow or manpower to this run, there's nothing wrong with using him as a meat shield.>
[Faint static plays.]
<[PSYCHOPOMP] P: If he's going to HELL, then let's speed him on his way! If not, and he dies down there on the surface of FORTUNA itself, that's still a pretty big step up in the BUGCHUD. It'll be a honest death. A *good* death, one that will leave its mark on the Reach.>
<P: Just follow my lead on this, Pal. I'm ready to show you the way.>
