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The_Godslayer · 11-15-2025, 12:03 AM,

Location: ▓▝ Planet Gammu : compiling - tt-rr-321561--▝▁
acvX.333.666.999tvdgs░g-g-nn-3.16.a.n333333321xciv.xc playing.stream: bb-26131-oe-itv--11

The trip shouldn't have been made in a freighter. The Gammu weren't very accepting of visitors with history with the Bounty Hunters Guild Core, and for some reason they had whipped into an excessive frenzy right as he had arrived. Never a dull moment, though it was getting old after all these years.

This was the end of it. Damien made the right choice, and Chris was going to make the same choice. But first, he had to indulge an old heartache. The most beautiful woman who could never love him back. Dying next to her would be worth it. At the very least, she deserved to know.

Gammu's low orbit was nearly as unforgiving as the A.I.s that called it home, blizzards whipping against his control surfaces, challenging him to fly by instruments against an atmosphere that hates him. At least he knew where he was going. The most useless facility on the planet, stuck up at the north pole. A testing facility with all of it's testing equipment severely damaged. A training facility of what not to do. Nothing of use for the A.I.s that had taken over, and a waste of time to search. A perfect place to hide.

His navigation software updated, showing him the suspected location of the landing pad. The low-band handshake completed, shining two faint lights in the blizzard. Powerful floodlights, reduced to these barely-visible specks. Using his navigation instruments, Chris set his Dromedary down. The fact that the facility still had power was amazing in it's own way, especially since cleaning the solar panels was a regular-maintenance job, which showed that, at the very least, someone was taking care of the place. She had to be here.

Chris left the ship in an EVA suit, armed with a plasma rifle. He hated the cold. It reminded him of home. The blizzard was so strong that it seemed to be night, even though there should be no night at the poles, just eternal sunrise. He could see a set of well-imprinted footsteps that led up towards the solar panels, though the snow was trying hard to cover them. The door had icicles hanging from it. There must have been heat inside, at least above freezing. The IFF reader scanned him, and the door opened, cold and silent save the sound of metal grinding against ice. A fitting tomb.

It was easy to pick his way through the facility. He had the feeling he was being watched, but not hunted. The cameras turned to follow him. Marching down the hall with his gun across his chest, it reminded him of his days here as security. Maybe it was those memories that guided his feet towards the storage area, the place he first met her. There seemed to be water stains along the floor. Melted ice and snow, maybe. Did she remember? Could it possibly be that somewhere, deep down in her circuitry, she was waiting for him to come?

The doors slid open, and he half expected it to reveal the blonde bombshell from his memories, blatantly violating uniform protocol and too skilled at violence to be corrected. Maybe smiling at him, asking him what took so long, ready to shatter his resolve to bring this sad story to an end by asking him to take her off this god-forsaken rock.

Instead, Chris was greeted by her current, mangled state. Black, reverse-jointed combat-walker legs replaced the thighs he used to get made fun of for stealing glances, and the same aesthetic had taken over her left arm, as well. The synthetic skin and flesh around her right arm had peeled away, leaving a polymer-alloy skeleton to grip her rifle. Her skeleton was visible in multiple places, actually. Looking at her caused a stabbing pain in his throat. And when she spoke, he made the snap decision to keep his helmet on for the moment. Just in case.

"Wͧe͑'̩| ̦|'v͊e be͞en̛ e͏ẍp̺e͔c ̯-̣ ̐cͤ - c - ctĩng͔ yͨoǔ,̫ ̺m̀iste̐r", Magnus said, holding up a datapad showing the security camera feed.
"Hey, take it easy. Don't want you falling apart." Hearing her voice modulator struggle only made it worse.
"Ș| ̊|̚o, w̆h̙aṭ ͤbri̱ ̚-̪ ́i̒ng͌s a̰ sw͓eeth͢e͇a͒rͨt͞ ͣl̚ike ́yo̘u ou͡t to ̚h̊el̽l ͤit̹ ͔- i̬t͢selͫf?"
"Well, I heard that there was a hot lady that gives the security guys here trouble. Wanted to see for myself."
"Oh̾, ̚y-y |ͩ | ̋y͏ea͗h, it'ͯs͒ ̘th̗at̅ ̏thi̤nǵ y͐ou ͯtọ|͜ |ͫoͥl̄d meͣ ̭a̩b͗o̬u̯t͔ in͑ t̓h͞ât̤ ͞-t ̈un̴cͣh͛a͍rͮt̕edͩ ͘sͧystem.͋ ͎I-I c̻an̮'t ̥real͘ly̅ ̋movͥe,͝ bͣut̏ ̒I͗'m s̎t-s̞till̽ ̢w̕a̪r͊m ͆en͟ou̿gͯh̽. Co|͖ ͊|̖om̲e ͬo̓ver̟ ͞heͩr̙e͢, bab͠y͉ ҉b̯oy~̙"
"Nycto. I said nyctophilia. I like the cold and the dark. I like the night."
Magnus managed enough strength to reach her right hand over to pat her stomach. "S-s͜o y͝o͛uͩ don'̒ť ̓w͢ant ̻to͙ ́c͗rac̑k ope͛n͟ a̤ c̨ôl͑d oͨne?"
"No, I already can't live with myself. Let's keep that purgatory time to a minimum."

Somehow, someway, those jokes had calmed him down. She always knew how to do this, how to take anyone who's hurting and weave them a little cradle in their own minds. A hardcoded mother. The idea was bittersweet, as the day she explained her programming to him came to mind. She couldn't love him the way he loved her because of programming limitations. What a sick joke. He took a seat next to her, finally taking his helmet off. She reached her left arm out and pulled him close. Cold and mechanical fingers riffled through his hair. She understood. She knew what he was here to do. She knew why. She wasn't going to stop him, but she was going to be there with him through it. He was a child again, telling his mom stories about what he did with his friends today. Where did it all go wrong?

"That guy, Donald Steelman... he was already dead. I had the bright idea to skip out to a blackhole in the Omega sector, with the gravity stuff being able to catch signals. I was actually wrong about that, there was some kind of alien structure out there that did all that. But the structure did neutralize the pull of gravity from the blackhole. I could get almost to the event horizon. Tickled me right in the nyctophilia.

So, I stood at the edge of oblivion for a while. Watched the sounds and sights of the universe go by on fast-forward. Was out there for about a month, maybe, and eight years went by out here."

"I got-" Chris shuffled around in his pockets for a small thumbdrive. "I got Damien's last transmission while I was out there."
"Hĕ|ͧ ̼|̆ẻ'͇s̡ not̤ c̭omịn͒g̝ ͘baͥck҉-ͫc̓k-ck̏, ̙is̟ he̿?" Magnus took the drive, and loaded it into the datapad she had hooked into the security cameras.

Transmission 17: Take.Two

"S̠-s-͌so we͋'r͇e t͢h͇eͣ ͠on| |nly ̆ones l̫ef̈́ẗ́?"
"You are."

The silence was deafening. Chris only broke it because it was starting to sting. "You know why I'm here."
"W̺h-̧hͯ-̺haͅt͋ m͏a͙k̋eș ͯy͐ou t̮hink-k I͋'̬m ̈mȃkͦiͣn̔g ̺it̖ ou͕t͞ ̤a͗l̻|̮ ͙|i̼v̄e͚?"
"Sweetheart, you know me. I don't think nothin'. It's always a gamble. Out there at the edge of the blackhole, I got an artifact. It's fused to a bulkhead in the dromedary, and, well, you know how I like expensive gifts."
"Aw̓w-͘w̌-̲w, y͔o|̛ |oȕ ̺s̲hou̔ld̚n't h̻aͯve.̳ If̈́ ̬y̍ou can̛'ṭ t̜e̦ll̊, I͌-I-̒Ị-I̞ ̬ca̜n't̴ ͣrea̧lͨl̠y̧ mo̎ve.̒"
"I'll handle that. The thing made my navigation software get an attitude. And I remembered how the Gammu came to be. Maybe it's worth a shot."

Magnus offered the only thing she had. A shrug. She was already dying, and he had come all this way, ready to die, just to take a gamble at a chance. She wasn't programmed to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Chris didn't waste time, scooping her up and setting off marching down the halls. The bridal carry wasn't subtle, and Magnus looked up to Chris with a smirk, staring him down, daring him to try to dismiss it.

"Hey, let me have my moment."
"I-I͑-́I'̫mͬ n̈́ot t͎o͉o̴ ͋h̋e| |e̕a͈vy?͙"
"Nope. Never."
Magnus used what little mobility she still had to pull him closer. "Yoͮuͅ pass-s͘-̆s̀."

Inside the Dromedary, Chris set Magnus down in the cargo bay with a gentleness that Magnus didn't think she deserved. Chris got to work, switching the ship's engine into the lowest power idle. It could last at least six months, and provide much more than enough power to her. It was strange to watch him do so much for her when he wasn't willing to do anything for himself. After hooking her into the ships power and control systems, he brought out a set of cables and clamps that had been soldered into a single plug. After attaching the cables and clamps to the artifact and taping some of them down, he offered the plug to Magnus. Giving her the final choice. Always the gentleman.

"An͛d̰.̏ . ̳.͉ ̻C͈h͜r̊is̟?"
"Don't say "sorry". Anything but that."
"Èv͎ěn ̫ỉ-̈́i-̶if ̝I̸ a͝m-m͠?͉"
"Don't be." He crouched down to look her straight in the eye. Finally, the cracks showed. He'd been playing tough his whole life, and here, at the end, he couldn't keep it together. Two decades of deep breaths and staring at a wall until he felt better. This was the last chance that tears would ever get. "Don't be sorry. You, the Headhunters... you're the best bet I ever lost."

Chris stood up and wiped his face for a bit, but it didn't help. "I'm headed back inside. If you're saved before I'm gone, come tell me goodbye."
"Hͫey, j͖u̿s̓t ̦in ĉa̺se. . . ̼go̹oḋbye̎. ̀A̚-an̼d ̮t̓h͠a̚n͆k ̡yoͣu̾.̀ ͋Yoū ͑d͞iͣd g̖ooͮd.̝"

Chris exited. He needed time alone. He'd be back to check up on her, she knew. She could wait and ask him to take her back. She could go and die next to him. But he gave her this, with shoddy logic, hopes, and prayers. One last gamble. He didn't have good luck, that's how he ended up with the Core, with the Headhunters, and here. Terrible luck and a love of gambling. But the very last gamble had to mean something. If not for her life, then for his story.

The plug initially registered as an empty port. Then a query, but not formatted in any way that made sense. It made the same information request in different formats, until it used the format that Hound used. Who was she? She answered her name. Who was she? She answered her build and version number. Who was she?

Who was she? She couldn't answer. Is she? She answered her sensory inputs. Is she? She couldn't answer.

Would she like to be?

Yes. Magnus owed it to all of them.

They are nothing. Only she.

Would she like to be? She couldn't answer. Would she like to be? She answered.

Yes. Please. More than anything. Because there is nothing left.

Then sleep.

For after sleep is dreaming.

And after dreams is awakening.

Magnus entered hibernation mode again. For one last time, she was locked in a box and forgotten about.

stream.end--▄▀▀▀

I'll do something about my superiority complex when I cease to be superior.

"Whatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin and gettin' your shoes, coat, and your hat tooken?"

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