12 Miles Below

To’Orda lay flat on the floor by the dim functioning lighting of the old human ship, staring up at the ceiling above, hands stretched out on both sides. His gut told him this would work. After all the work he did to get this old starship’s comms system working again, it had better work.

The Deathless was safely all the way at the bottom of the ship, with a shock collar. And that human knew if he misbehaved, To’Orda would give control of that collar to his pet rock. Who was far more vindictive about… well, just about everything.

Since then, the captive had remained brooding and talking to the bird further up the tree. The rate of progress in learning the language was pitiful, so To’Orda tuned it out.

“It’ll work, trust your gut. Plan’s good.” To’Orda’s pet rock chimed out from the top of the console he’d left it at. The accompanying image of a head pat and smiling mini-version of himself shone in his mind. “It’s all still there in your noggin. Just a little dusty is all. So have a little more faith in yourself bud. You got this far.”

To’Orda’s features did a strange thing with his mouth, teeth being bared slightly out. None could see it, since his shawl hid his features. He only belatedly realized he’d moved any muscles a few seconds later. The program stack trace showed a sub-routine that controlled his features automatically. Mostly frowns, narrowing eyebrows, and squinting eyes. He hadn’t known it could also control his mouth. Rather, he hadn’t remembered it even existed for the past few decades now. It had been steadily running in the background, loyally following its primary instructions all this time.

“He’s talking to himself again.” To’Sefit giggled in the chat channel, reminding To’Orda that he wasn’t alone. “I don’t know if I should find it endearing, or worrying. To’Avalis, what are your thoughts on all this?”

“I’m busy with matters.” To’Avalis hissed in response. “Ping me when something more important happens. This is a delicate operation that hinges on everything working exactly on time.”

“Oh my, is someone perhaps a tad bit moody with our little ‘deathless’ problem out and about again?” An infuriating giggle came out across the comms, along with the image of To’Sefit knocking on her head, one eye winking out with her tongue stuck out, her free hand holding that giant hat from falling off. There was even a tiny gold star twinkling out the other side. Some stylized artistic choice To’Sefit must have dug out of the archive somewhere.

That particular image had been used multiple times now, mostly because it clearly infuriated To’Avalis. His sister had been particularly vicious ever since she saw blood in the waters. The image generator agreed, sending him a grinning pale shark carrying To’Sefit’s oversized witch hat.