| The Void and a Chance of Snow | |||||
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| What: Illyana and Kon visit Spartan in his broke down vessel | |||||
The cavernous darkness seems to devour the light source that is the various softly glowing lines of Spartan's armored body. Their footsteps echo in a space large enough to swallow the light as a whole long before the two following him can see anything but open space. Spartan pauses while walking down the narrow unrailed stairs welded to the inside of the hull of the ship, and he presses a hand against the bulkhead just to the side of them. Glowing light emits from the panels and spreads downward, showing the trio what happens when you turn the hanger bay of a Kheran flagship on it's side. A football field away beneath their feet rests a junk pile of oddly shaped fighter craft, piled atop one another haphazardly as they were when gravity yanked them down. "Apologies. I forget about your eyes." he says, continuing the walk.
The inside of the ship is hard to wrap one's head around, not only is it side ways in the earth, where the floor and ceilings are walls and the walls are the floor, but where walls wouldn't have been present planks of metal are now welded in place, forming stairs and sidewalks with perilously far drop offs anywhere they're not touching bulkhead. The trio walks down a few corridors, through various rooms, the shear size of the craft starting to truly set in when the small group finally reaches a room that looks like a lab made love to a conference room. The table and chairs have been set up anew so that one can sit properly once they pass through the oddly shaped sideways doors, and Spartan takes the seat at the head of the table, ducking slightly to avoid becoming tangled in a hanging conduit covered in some sort of coolant gel. "Welcome to Void." he states as he settles into place. "Sorry, still trying to decide where to focus my efforts and those of my repair crew." he swats the conduit idly setting it to swinging with a squish noise.
Superboy amidst yawns and the occasional curious glance at this and that is just following along. Hands tucked in to the pockets of his jeans; only occasionally taking them out to rake through already ruffled up unkempt hair. It almost looks like he just woke up. "Void?" Spartan definitely has some pretty cool toys.
Well. This is certainly an odd field trip. Even for Illyana. While she's grateful when Spartan finally sheds some light on the situation so she's not tripping or stumbling, she doesn't comment. While sci-fi isn't her thing, she can't help but be somewhat in awe of the ship they've entered. Even in its dilapidated state. "How has this been here and no one found it?" She marvels. A glance is given back to Superboy. "I'm guessing the name of the ship. Looks like humans have that in common with aliens, huh?"
One of the smaller robot like creatures they've seen before, the floating many eyed thing, hovers into the room soundlessly and begins to repair the conduit, starting by snagging it with a small energy beam and dragging it up into the 'ceiling' where soft ominous sizzles and tinking noises suddenly issue. Spartan ignores them. "It is the word that best translates to your tongue, the Abyss, The Great Space, The Blackness, Void. Void seemed to carry the appropriate feeling, something immense, powerful, dangerous, but not adversarial unless provoked. That is the meaning of our word for it." he smiles, "That's not the name of the ship." he says with a soft chuckle, "It's the name of that which the ship carries. Something... more precious but as yet dead to the universe." That's a complicated topic and he steers away from it. "You are not the first one to ask that question, and yet I find it remarkable that you think it would be so easy to find. I could explain it all, but the short version is... it hid itself. Your technologies are exceptionally primitive when it comes to exploration, even of your own world. The only way for you to spot it would have been to actually dig it up, and sloth did most of that work for us. That said however," he runs a hand over the metallic table top, which lights up and fills the room with holographic projections of the land around them, "We would have soon been discovered. A great deal of this land is set for redevelopment in the next few years, these scrap yards here and here, and this residential area are to be vacated, leveled, new foundations dug for a series of utility companies. In five, ten, years tops they would have dug into the hull. Luckily, you woke me before they did."
Illyana eases herself down into one of the chairs, feet coming up to rest on the table as she leans to one side to peer at where the robot works above. Looks like she's got her demons and he's got his 'bots. Watching the holographic display, she hurms. "So what are you going to do? Even with an army of robots, it doesn't look like this place is going to be operational in five years and it's way too big to move. Even if I asked my brother."
Spartan shakes his head, "I need power." he states, and sighs at the way it sounds so redundant even to him, "This ship has suffered interstellar combat, falling through the atmosphere, impact with the Earth, even ricocheting off of the walls created by the gravity wells of hyper space. She's harder to injur then she appears to be. Her engines have survived almost entirely intact, the zero point generator is a complete loss however. If I can get the power to fuel them, I can launch. Not to space, it's not capable of surviving vaccum, but I could move it in atmosphere. Even the cloaking device is intact. I just need a means to bring her to life."
Illyana leans back, that thoughtful frown on her lips again. "So... potentially, you could get the ship up and moving and keep it cloaked. Does it have like, a hover-mode for in-atmosphere?" Hey, she can pilot a Blackbird. She has *some* idea of flight stuff!
Superboy likewise lowers himself down in to a seat. Comfortably he rests his elbows down on his knees, "Didn't you have a meeting the other day with some rich guy about whatever?" Shows how much he pays attention. "Oh yeah and all this techno talk reminds me I need another phone. So what do we need for this? To move it? I can try to lift it." He flashes a smile doubting he could but he is Superman 'Lite' after all. He's never tried to lift something so huge in all honesty and doubts he could.
Spartan quirks a brow at her, "Um." he blinks. "Yes." one gets the feeling he wanted to say more but decides not to. "Complicated answer involves the warping of localized gravitational fields... but yes. She can 'hover'." He eyes Superboy, "Without the gravity shields up and running she'll collapse under her own weight, structural damage being what it is. These ships can fly in atmosphere, but only under proper power, otherwise..." he makes a motion as if crushing something. "Even technology as advanced as our own cannot completely thwart the laws of physics, merely bend them considerably."
Illyana rolls her eyes at Spartan. "Yeah, yeah, we're backwards and primitive. Whatever. Most flying craft here are either a full-speed or stop kind of deal. Has to do with lift and---" She stops. Shakes her head. "Look. Whatever. Power source, right? If we can get it up and moving, at least it won't be a sitting duck." Then she pauses, and looks back at Superboy. "You lost *another* phone? You're worse than me." She looks at Spartan. "Can't you make him like a watch that can be his phone that he won't break too easily, mr. ultra-tech?"
"Didn't lose it, they're cheap and fragile." Superboy responds leaving the rest of the explanation blank. Phones not a huge deal considering what they're talking about... migrating this giant ancient alien super ship. "Is there anywhere we can find one of these power sources or someone with the resources to construct one? I'm sure you know how right? You know like fifty trillion languages and whatever else."
Spartan eyes Superboy, "I could implant a sub dermal communicator beneath the skin just behind his ear that would act as communicator, locator in case of emergency, and grant a style of visual interface he could use to access this worlds internet from any location with a signal." he states, "But it would require him sitting in a room for a full day, a minor surgery," he eyes Illyana, "and a power source to start. The rest of you can I make one for without the wait and no power. My people are exceptionally adept at cybernetics." he looks down at himself as evidence, "As one my imagine. It would leave no visible sign of it's presence and no scar." he looks back and forth between them, "Is that acceptable?" Superboy's question causes him to sigh, "There are several here on this planet that could construct for me a device capable of restoring rudimentary power to Void, I could myself given the raw materials, however..." he looks around. "For all that I possess I do not possess two point seven three million of your US dollars, which would cover the cost of raw ore alone that would allow me to make the core of such a device. Illyana, I was going to ask you to take me to meet Anthony Stark later today if you would be so kind. He has ignored my attempts as meeting him through regular channels and I suspect he is the sort who would only respond to boldness. And time is not a luxury we possess a great deal of."
Illyana blinks slowly at Spartan, expression dubious. "I... don't know if I want you performing surgery on me. Minor or not. Also, tech gets weird when it spends too long in Limbo." That's why her phone fritzes out so often. It also plays havoc with the power systems. Spartan is given a slight shake of her head. "Alright. But try to be friendly, alright? If all you needed was ore, I could probably make it for you. But I'm guessing it's some weird element?"
"Big no. No more operating tables or anything stabbing in to me." Stiffening as he says this. Clearly not a comfortable subject. Superboy's lips quirk a bit, "Anyways..." Going for a subject skip off of that one, "You know Tony Stark, Illyana? Isn't Berto like rolling in cash? Ask him."
Spartan eyes Illyana for a moment, and he seems tempted, the thoughts crossing his face in a visible flurry of desire and almost painful need... but they still again. "If technology does not sit well with your sorcery I would not risk repowering Void with potentially tainted mystical raw materials. A phone is a thing small enough that were your magic to effect it the consequences would be minor. Void..." yeah, let's not accidentally taint the massive advanced alien war ship with it's literal army, air force, and navy of robotic autonomous war machines with Limbo Juice. That could be BAD. "But the thought is tempting." he admits freely. He eyes Kon with a nod, "As you wish, though it wouldn't be a procedure you would have to sleep through and I wouldn't even need to slice you open. The implant does all the work itself. You could install it if you liked... but I understand. Once the ship is powered, if you're at all curious, if you have questions..." he lets the words trail off there, unfinished. Once the ship is powered it's labrotories will be up and running, the resources at Spartan's command will improve exponentially. He could likely get answers for Connor to any question he'd ask, or at least find suitable clues.
Oh, don't think that Illyana missed that 'more' from Superboy. Her eyes narrow on him thoughtfully, but she doesn't go prying. Not yet. She doesn't know Spartan well enough to go rooting around in a friend's closet in front of him. She shakes her head at Kon's question. "Nah, I don't know him. But c'mon, who can keep me out of somewhere I wanna go?" She asks with a cocky sort of grin. "And 'Berto's *dad* is rolling in cash. *'Berto* gets a really nice allowance and free room and board. Which we're currently enjoying but a Park Avenue penthouse is a little high-profile. I'd like to find a better place for folks to say before some bad guy shows up and blows up the building." Spartan's answer about Limbo materials gets a tip of her head in a nod. "Understood. I usually keep my conjuring and transmuting down to like, clothes. Easy. Simple. Harder for my magic to twist it." And even then, clothes she conjures in Limbo tends towards the leather-and-chain variety.
"New clubhouse is definitely needed. Especially if we're expanding. " Yeah, Spartan and Orion. Still no clue at these two. Superboy appears to have relaxed again. "Guess that doesn't sound like too much and it could be pretty cool... I dunno, maybe later." When not so creeped out by the possible deathbot. "Wait, are you wearing magic instead of clothes right now?" ADD moment. Curiously not able to be contained he peers at Yana and his eyes flicker once before going red. X-Ray Vision activate! Yet ultimately fail, Kal-El makes this kinda thing look way too easy.
Spartan eyes the ship around them and sighs again, an action that appears less odd the longer they know the robot. He doesn't whirr or tink or scrap that often, and his mannerisms are so human it's easy to forget he's artificial sometimes. "We need an investor, with deep pockets. To power the ship, to see it moved... I have already laid plans for the long term, plans that will one day lead to self sustaining our cabal with our own profits so these petty conserns of resources will be a thing of the past. But for now... We need to much to do it alone. Stark is a good place to begin, barring that there are others, though none are ideal." he frowns, "The War grows closer, I can feel it in my bones. For millenia the Deam have raised up in waves, a battle here, a fight there, a war, an Empire, but always a Kheran or a decendant, a hero, has raised up opposition to them. But there has not been such an uprising in to long. The quiet screams at me and I feel the Daem grow tired of being patient. This energy signature is only the beginning." he looks back and forth between the pair of them and then sighs, "I forget how young you are." then he lets a small grin flicker on his lips, "and how old I am when you are around."
"It's not *magic*, it's magic-created stuff. It's just as real as any..." Illyana trails off as his eyes go red. While it's not like he's got a Xavier's dossier that she could look over to know the details of his powers, most of what Superman can do is fairly well known, and he's all Super Junior. Her lips purse and a portal opens above his head, fresh powder off of a slope somewhere pouring down in cold, wet snowflakes. "Don't make me hurt you, superkid." Her threat doesn't have any of the deadly undercurrent that he might remember from her dealings with The Darkness in Limbo, or even her demons. It's not flippant but is instead... teasing. Almost affectionate. She does turn back to Spartan to listen to the topic at-hand. "Well I think we scared off Sentinel. He kept looking at me like I was contagious or something. Pockets that deep..." She shakes her head. "Hard to come by, and not without cost."
"Whoah! Hey!" Snow? Covered in the frosty powder Superboy exhales blowing a puff off. "I hate magic." Side-tracked he hears Spartan say something about young and old and a bunch other stuff. Seriously he is listening. He'd rather just go smack these Daemonite things around than talk and prepare so this stuff really had a tough time holding his attention. He's clearly not the strategist or thinker of the group. "Didn't know the guy." He says in regards to Sentinel while slumping back in to his seat trying to look more attentive. "We got any way to detect them yet? These evil ugly aliens?" Maybe he missed a memo.
Spartan nods his head, "I know. The trick is in balancing cost with reward. I have much to offer. I could fund our entire operation on the sale of a single of the fighter craft left dormant in the bay, but to unleash such technologies on a world unprepared could prove more catastrophic then the Daemonite threat in it's entirety. How much can I give your people without giving them to much? Can I advance their medical sciences, or would that be used to create biological weapons of mass destruction? Can I offer them computer advancements, or would they turn it into weapons of economic mass destruction? How much can I give, and to whom... I still believe Stark holds the key. I can share enough to show him, and hopfully... he will listen to reason and be sated, not attempt to usurp that which could unmake all the acheivements here." Spartan takes a long slow breath, "I believe I can teach Nate how to detect them, but he seems to think it's merely a matter of telepathy. It is not, not solely anyway. He will require training. I need power," he pauses and makes a face as he says the words agian, "to fire up the training sims used to teach our gifted children how to detect the Daemonites. Then he will need to learn. But... he has the potential."
"Now I feel like chopped liver." Illyana drawls, as Spartan waxes poetic on Nate. Though truthfully, she's more amused than anything else. "If it were demons, and not uh, daemons, I might be of more help tracking them down. But I deal in supernatural, not extra-terrestrial." Her expression turns thoughtful again. "Would some contact with other aliens help at all? I mean, there's Starfire and some guy goes by Orion. Martian Manhunter. Probably some others."
Superboy brushes off his shoulders and chest. Not really having a whole lot to add to this string of conversation, opting for the moment to just listen to the two talk back and forth. "Maybe we can ask the Justice League or one of the other groups for some financial or just technical aid?" Not that he is all too eager to disrupt the comfort he's developed with this group. Big reason he's not hopped on some of the other teams or tried to get in to them is due to how low key these guys are; it feels like he has less restrictions and demands being a part of them. No government or domineering backer breathing down their every action.
Spartan takes a long slow breath, "The Tamaranians have a capable military, and are not without gifts of their own, but they are not well feared on the galactic front. The Martian..." he smiles, "I have heard stories but fear this system and it's worlds were far from the Imperium's reach, I know little of them. Or of Orion. But what help might be I will take... As for your liver, I wouldn't see it chopped just yet. The Kheran's are masters of war, or technology, of science, the Daem on the other hand, they know much of the ways of mystism though they employ it rarely. There may come a time when you are of greater use then you think." Superboy's question causes him to raise a brow, "I would prefer we did not spread the knowledge further then we have to. An enemy forwarened is forearmed. I cannot be certain no member of your Leagues is a Daemonite, or your group for that matter... But I have to trust someone with the basics at some point. You were the logical lot. The further my exsistence is expanded upon, the greater the threat that the Daem will discover me, discover Void... We cannot, under any circumstances allow that final senerio to happen. So the circle must stay small. Stark... may be a nessecary evil, but I do not intend on telling him the whole truth, simply enough to apease his curiosity."
"The JLA gets its funding from the US military." Illyana reminds Superboy. "They wouldn't be able to underwrite anything this large." She rubs at the back of her neck as she listens to Spartan. "Well, I'll vouch for my brother. He's not some evil alien. A bit of a busybody with my personal life sometimes, yes. But definitely not the others. "So you need a powersource and... anything else? Extra hands, technicians? I dunno. I have some talented friends. Family, really."
"Oh." Superboy didn't know this about the JLA. Learn something new everyday. "This sounds so tricky when you think it would be really easy. What happened to just putting on a costume and go knocking around bad guys?" He huffs and slumps back in to his seat some more toeing at something that looks out of place on the floor. "Can we smell the Daemonites or something? Like a physical way to know their presence?"
The many ocular robot floats down from where it disappeared and, as much as a robot without expressions can, glowers at Illyana as if annoyed at her for trying to replace it. It slooooowly goes back up into the ceiling. Then back down to glower again. Then disappears again into the shadows. Spartan chuckles, "Gifted they may be, but they do not know what they would be dealing with. It wouldn't be polite of me should one of your friends enter a restricted zone and be attacked by protectorate nanites or plasma fused into pudding. I need power, for now, and once that is in place I will have what I need to lock away secure sections, to limit access to places that should not be visited, and once anything potentially ruinous is secured..." he glances up at the hole in the ceiling, "Then I will open my doors to any passing a scan and for whom one of you personally vouches." The robot appears and glowers at Spartan this time before disappearing. "It's mad, thinks we're trying to take its job."
He shakes his head at Superboy, "Not when they're possessing a host. They are, at every level, the host itself, withaccess to all of their memories and thoughts, abilities, and yes, even scents. There are no tell tale signs, no secret back doors, no simple answers. If there were, we would have erradicated them long ago. The exception to this is the Royals." he shakes his head, "But let us hope we never cross one of those on this planet." Illyana peers back at the little robot, confused by it's antics. She opens her mouth, about to ask Spartan when he answers and she ahhhhhs. "It's rude to evesdrop!" She calls out to it with one of her usual smirks. "I dunno what it's worried about. There's enough work here for an army." But she nods. "Fine. We'll get you your power, by hook or by crook. Greater good and all that jazz." And Illyana really isn't above doing what she needs needs done. Should it you know, need done. "Huh. Odorless, colorless and dissolves completely in human. They're like Iocine powder or something. If it's possession, I wonder if my Soulsword could drive 'em out..." The last is just a pondering-out-loud bit. The sorceress looks over at Superboy with some amusement, because clearly all the talky and the thinky isn't his style. "Hey Spartan. Wanna scan some news feeds and see if anyone could use the help of a superteen? I think Connor could do with some fresh air."
"Yeah, like dumping snow on people." Superboy huffs before pushing up to his feet again, excited by this idea. "Good idea, lets get out and stretch." One fist clenched hand slaps in to the palm of the other. "Can show Spartan here a thing or two." Funny that there.
Spartan tilts his head to the side and eyes Connor, and slowly, for the first time in a long time, the robot offers an actual grin. "Oh... Kay..." he says pushing himself to his feet. "We have room on deck 12 for a training Salle. It's currently under about two hundred and fifty thousand gallons of liquid isotope solution... But I think Illyana can find us a patch of dessert for you to teach me on, yes?" he asks her entirely to nonchalantly. "This ought to be educational..."