1964-10-12 - Fail-Safe
Summary: Nexus and Vesper have a pained reunion.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
nexus vesper 


Nexus Oculai has not had a reliable connection to the Core since they got up here; and worse, something he does not fully understand is happening to it, like its spreading out and away from him, or diminishing somehow. Presumably he has been given quarters in the ship while they wait for the Accusers to decide if they're lying… Nexus has not been as idle as he appears. He sits, meditative, calm.

Ever since he was put there, save for when he was eating, he has done only one thing: spread.

System to system, from the smallest to the greatest, Nexus has spread his mind through the ship. The nice, big, juicy, technological ship. Its like he's in Disney World. Or its like he's become Disney World. Nexus, quietly, becomes the ship. Oh, he doesn't interfere in any way. If there's any sentient systems he carefully nudges around them to save that battle for the last push. But anything else he seeks to claim and embrace.

The Accusers hand out quarters like candy. Not large ones by any means. Uniformly pale with a bunk to sleep in and a place to stow personal things, a lavatory facility in the corner. It's not an interesting place to look with minimal fuss. What transport other than luxury ever concerned itself with looking pretty for guests? Various biological and security systems see to comfort. Temperature and gravity simulation, for example. There's an embedded ring in the ceiling and drain in the floor for refreshing showers, though the chemical composition isn't strictly water. Clean, that's important.

Meanwhile the Attilan core seethes and trembles. Down on Earth is another state of being from up in the stars. Wild fluctuations become a pronounced pulse of action like a fist hammering on the door. Not that Vesper is there to see any of it.

For days Vesper hasn't seen. Been in another state, ricocheting. The void is very loud when one is the only direct source of sound. Earth is noisy. Surprisingly noisy once away from the wild fields of Jupiter. Atmospheres make friction. Radio waves jumble sounds. It's taken a week to find the way home. Longer than a week. Follow the signal.

The light beam headed for the blue and the moon has more noise that isn't there to follow. The noise that leads to a ship. A ship that leads to a man.

At first, Nexus is not entirely aware of the bouncing signal that is his sister, so subsumed is he with embracing the ship into his mind. But there's a slight blip of familiarity: immediately he makes to erase and blind the ship to being able to see that signal, and instead reaches out with the communication array augmented by his mind — again taking care to leave no log that would normally be left — and reach for it. Vesper? is whispered into the void.

Earth: loud. Moon: quiet. Floating seed: a dagger in the mind.

clear, so crisp. Words that float precise on her ears. Ears she imagines having but does not have currently. Earth sizzles in a blanket warming to the dawn on one side, the sun behind so loud and compelling. Oh, mustn't go that way. The signal chimes to her and she reaches to it. Kree technology is so much more precise than human, than American. Than Inhuman, too. To pick out a sunbeam from the solar wind is a tricky thing.

Home is the immediate response delivered at force. An explosion of symphonies that kick her up energy level. Light from the star she pulls more into herself. So abundant here is free. Brother? How are you here? There is nothing to interface with on the Moon…

The circuits upon Nexus' skin haven't really dimmed a moment since he went into the ship, so if anyone is monitoring— and he would allow it though he has the power to stop it— likely wouldn't notice anything but a slight upturn of his heartbeat. Nexus focuses the scanner upon the signal, I am a prisoner upon a Kree ship, sister. It is not a concern, not yet. They do not comprehend what it is I am capable of doing, how they can not hold me in the belly of such technology as they bring. Why are *you* here? Have you lost yourself to the signal? Do you need aide?

Something large blew up. That might be a comfort, suggestive that their concerns are hardly without worry. Vesper latches onto the signal. From the moment she frees herself to anything but the bleep blip, her phasing tightens up and she moves. Not quite the speed of thought. The distance takes seventy-one and a half seconds at least to cover.

Then the gleaming hull is practically under her feet. Feet, must remember to have those. Why did you come to be on a ship? A Kree? That Gorgon says is a people who made us.

Ancient Kree facilities activated, and sent out a distress signal. Yes, the Kree who made us to be their slaves: I will not permit them to lay claim to our legacy or existance again. The hardness in the voice on the spectrum is like cold, frozen steel. That he could so easily trigger a catastrophic meltdown is a thought that almost reverberates through the background of the signal. They investigated, and they are holding us while they determine if we intend to be a threat to them. I have told them we have never chosen to go to war, but that we will defend ourselves. I… do not know the mechanism of how we got here— some kind of teleportation device. There's another hesitation, But there is no need to worry. I can claim the ship as my own, and even if everything I do fails, Black Bolt is proof against the power of the Kree with but a single word. Our people will be safe.

The stars are so loud. Some of their signals move even faster than they do here. Vesper doesn't stop to ponder what that means. She slides her hands along the hull and spreads out in a fine miasma. Somewhere is a window or a porthole. Do they call them portholes in space? She does not bother with the dishes or the other systems that involve mechanical arrays she does not understand so easily. They present hazards to catch the blue angels in the wires. Glass does not impede her as she wiggles through the melting atoms and pushes herself through. People in blue and white and green blur past. Which way do I go? The sounds on Earth are so thin up here. Attilan is smudged like smoke. I had to spin around the Moon to hear it at all.

Nexus is silent a moment, and then he projects to her a thought: a map, and the position of where he is, but he asks: It is not safe for you here, sister; though I think they would be surprised should they try to harm you. What are you doing here? Why are you disembodied? Then he focuses on the systems around where she travels, in case any pick up a sign of the energy, he erases any tracks that she might leave within the Kree internal sensor network before it can so much as react, if it would. Hopefully.

She needs no assistance in navigating other than to slow down. Light suppressed gives no glow. A mote that sparks among all the other photons filling the space. Wherever he is, she simply winnows around systems and under doors or through windows.

I told you. The explosion blew me into the sky. I had to get ahead of the energy wave and that did not happen until I was quite far away. The perturbed state of things does not quite carry to her mental voice. To that impression of her light-sensitive self, all is fairly normal. I came because I heard you. I would have gone back to Attilan except Attilan is convulsed with too much noise about some attack on it and heroes and things. You are my brother. Why would I leave you? You are not invulnerable enough to abandon.

The technopath considers for a long moment, Invulnerable, no. The tone of his voice carries through the shifting of the signal near her, is wry. I will do all that is in my power to convince the Kree to depart and leave us be; and if they will not, then I will do all within my power to deal with them and escape in the process — but if there is no other way, I will trigger a catastrophic overload in this ship's engines even if I can't escape, to keep the Kree from our people. There's resignation in his voice.

Their engines have an energy signature. I do not know it but I feel it. I could remove the fuel as a warning? The young lady afraid of her own shadow would not normally offer this suggestion. The girl who lives a quiet life eating baguettes and trying to piece together DNA is not the one who approaches this with no fear. They are not near any planet. We are far enough from the Earth and Moon. Or you can send the money their way and I will take away the fuel source. It is likely they will not come back.

Her manifestation is very subtle, the flaming glow outlining her wherever he is, just the merest distortion to reveal something within the same spectrum as the ambient lighting. I'm concerned for you and everyone. Is there no way that our mother can help us?

Despite her being 'here' now, Nexus continues communicating by manipulating the signal, so that if he's being observed, there's no sign of it. I do not want to act first; this Accused may be reasoned with. I think we should attempt diplomacy: they do not yet know we are Inhumans, their ancient experiment thought failed and extinct. I… am barely containing my anger, sister. But he shows none of it outwardly, none at all. I wish to… tell them what we are. That we have become a power in our right, that we will never be slaves again, and that if they dare threaten us we will annihiliate them. I fear that unwise, but I desire it. He takes a slow, measured sigh, For now, we are beyond mother's reach. But…be prepared to take the energy of their engine away, but don't do it yet. That may cripple *me*, as I am have embodied the ship and its active systems sustain me.

I do not intend to commit an act of murder. The vision of that forces her to shake her head hard. He doesn't share her origins in the same way. She doesn't know the cause of his anger and her placid response might offend. Still, her hand dips to the circuitry. She touches him gently. Vesper is warm and that's about all one can say. No, we aren't. Mother listens to the system. It's not very long for me to get there or back. Do you need me to ask her anything? Do you require me to see what has become of Attilan?

There is no offense, but at the warmth of the touch Nexus sighs softly, I know you would not murder, sister; but in defense of Attilan there is very little I would not do. He opens his eyes briefly to look at the haze of her energetic figure, Something… is wrong with the Core. I don't understand what I am feeling: the defenses I designed failed and it became overwhelmed, but before I could design new ones — it is being diminished. I worry that it might be dying; I worry what it would mean for me if it dies. It is possible I would not survive.

Then I'll go and see. You do not think this will move away so far? A gesture encompasses the plain room. Vesper glows more than ever. It might be wise to go down. I have not eaten anything except energy. An apple would be magical. Something to crunch and hold in my hand. Her smile beams down at him and she sinks down to her knees in front of him. Odd to watch perhaps. Nexus is radiated on more than anything. We don't need to worry about death yet. Hope remains. Let me use this gift for a purpose other than being lost past the gas planets. It would benefit us to have some answer. Have I your leave to go?

I do not believe the ship will move at all, not in the short term; they are observing. Nexus closes his eyes again, to return to his supposed meditation, //Go. Eat before you return, there is no immediate concern, and it might take some time to discern what is going on with the Core. You must sustain yourself, sister. We do not fully know the relationship between your physical health and energy and this… state you are in. I will be here: if they attempt to move the ship I will engineer malfunctions."

I do not believe the ship will move at all, not in the short term; they are observing. Nexus closes his eyes again, to return to his supposed meditation, Go. Eat before you return, there is no immediate concern, and it might take some time to discern what is going on with the Core. You must sustain yourself, sister. We do not fully know the relationship between your physical health and energy and this… state you are in. I will be here: if they attempt to move the ship I will engineer malfunctions.

You ask me to leave you. I hate leaving my brother behind, protests Vesper in that quiet, insistent tone. Funny. In the light she doesn't sound French. The signal is universal. She is universal. Her hands come to rest upon Nexus' knees. I will go to Attilan and take the lay of the land. It is only right. Karnak asked me to see what I could when I told her I heard the signal. The words I couldn't translate. What do you want me to tell anyone if I meet them? I can come back to inform you of the Core's status.

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