voidtreckerexpress | A New Platform [Intro Post December]

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A New Platform [Intro Post December]

On the Train

It's only been a couple of days since the Voidtrecker Express took to the void once more, and many of the passengers are still recovering and recuperating after a very hectic end to their latest mission. Nevertheless, they are awoken by a familiar message.

"Good morning passengers, it is day sixteen of the month of Imagination. Points have been updated on the system."

They have indeed, and everyone can spend the morning shopping. Those who have been on the train for a while will be expecting the second announcement that comes a few hours later.

"Shortly arriving into a designated void platform. Exit from void in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." A lurch and a jolt and the windows fill with the fog that means they are at a platform. It is warm outside with a pleasant breeze that flows down the platform, rustling the light spread of leaves that litter the floor.

As usual the first to leave the train notice nothing, walking silently, rucksacks on their backs, towards the barriers. Akemi Homura, Alfred the Poisoner, Donatello Versus, Chie Satonaka, Joscelin Fitzthomas, Ronan Lynch, Rose Tyler, Tangle the Lemur, Trowa Barton, Wester Mazaki and Whisper the Wolf all pass through the platform, not looking back before they disappear through the barriers and into the fog beyond.

But on the platform itself there are new faces. Wearing hoodies in all four colours, in various states of confusion.

For New Passengers

At first all they can see is steam, billowing around them as they come to their senses. The second thing they will notice is the swirling leaves at their feet, moving in flurries and rattling against each other softly. As their eyes adjust, they will see they are on a platform, cement and packed earth forming a very practical, plain-looking shelter. Behind them is a set of barriers, and in front of them is a single track extending both ways into thick fog.

They are standing, in clothes that are not their own and a style they might not even recognise. They are carrying a rucksack on their back. For a moment it seems to just be them, alone in the white haze but then the steam begins to fade and they realise they aren’t alone.

The platform is not large and it holds eight figures all facing the tracks, all dressed in cargo trousers and hoodies. Both left and right the tracks disappear into the mist. Then there is a roaring sound and out of the fog arrives a train. Jet black with gold writing on the side. The Voidtrecker Express. There is a hiss as the doors slide open and out into the gloom step a selection of people. Some are human, some are less so. Most are wearing the same hoodie in one of the four colours, red, orange, blue and purple though some are sporting different clothes in a variety of styles.

The Train

The doors hiss open. Those from the train may encourage those on the platform to board. It’s not like there's anywhere else to go and even if there was, you feel a pull. A need to board, a feeling that staying on the platform would lead to something terrible. If that is not enough, there are plenty of people on the platform now, to encourage them onto the train.

Each ICP shows the same message and next to the screens there are stacks of leaflets written by those on the train, with further information (see
'Publications'). The store rooms have been restocked with more jars of honey, the ingredient of the month of Imagination, as well as sundries.

A new carriage has been added right next to the luggage carriage. It is a second medical carriage, or triage carriage. Downstairs is more open with beds and chairs, upstairs are two surgical bays for those that need immediate attention.

For those intrigued by the claim of a parcel for every passenger they will find several large boxes filled with small blue bags. Inside each bag is ten dark blue coins imprinted on each side with a silver snowflake. Each bag has a small label with a passengers name. On the other side of the label it reads: Keep these safe for now.

Of course for any passengers that have bought items, these are also scattered around the luggage carriage as well.

New passengers will find their tickets allow them into their cabins. They may need to negotiate for beds, especially if they want a top bunk!

Room is tight but there are storage cubbies at the head of each bed, beds fold up and the bottom bunks double as benches for the small table. There is storage under those benches and you will hopefully find a pillow for your bed if it has not been nabbed by a roommate, there are also spare blankets for if it gets cold.

Departure

A second horn sounds to encourage any stragglers taking advantage of the pleasant weather and the doors slide shut. Veteran passengers know what will happen next, but they may wish to brief their new companions.

The train sets off, the fog obscuring the view again as it picks up speed.

"Welcome aboard, passengers of the Voidtrecker Express." A female-coded artificial sounding voice echoes throughout the train. "Please take the time to read the passenger information displayed on the Information and Communication points and familiarise yourself with the layout and emergency exits."

The train begins to tilt, leaving the ground and rising up into the fog-filled sky.

"Entrance into Voidspace imminent. New passengers are advised to remain seated. Entry into Voidspace in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

A shudder, a jolt, a lurch to the left. A flash of light, colourful and blinding. As quick as it happens it is done. The train seems to steady. The fog from the windows is gone now, replaced with a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colours.

Welcome to the Void!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Greetings - may I have your name, sir?"

The title, like many, is a presumption - but there were some interesting names added to the roster this time around, and it's not as if the train invests much energy in specifying gender.

"I take it you are just arrived; have you checked the Luggage compartment? Everyone appears to have been granted one of these," he explains, holding up the little bag of blue coins.

"Though I'm afraid I do not yet know why."

A voice makes Devero stop, and turn sharply to see who's addressed him. He also bristles up automatically, and has to consciously bring his shoulders down from around his ears. After all, the question had been pleasant and polite.

The person he sees makes him rock back a step in surprise. He may come from a technologically complex future, but it's actually not one that's developed many human-sized, human-shaped robots.

Still, as with Orisa earlier, it's reassuring to see something on a technological level he'd expect. "I'm Devero," he says, and makes the gesture to transmit his public cookie. This little packet of information contains a few pieces of information: the name he's just given, his pronouns, and a little 'I'm here' wireless networking code. The gesture is so automatic he doesn't realize he's doing it.

The name he's given isn't on the roster of new passengers. And among those new names on the roster, there's also one that's just a 17-digit alphanumeric code. Hmm.

"Luggage compartment?" he repeats, eyeing the blue bag. He shakes his head. "Er-- no. That's towards the end, isn't it?"

That Devero is not at ease is neither of their faults; Webmind has no quarrel with him, and does his best to reaffirm that.

He raises a hand in more-normal greeting - just as he receives that packet. "I just received your message; I can assume that sort of contact with the digital is normal on the world you are from? Forgive me; I lack the proper upgrades to this frame to return it in kind at this point in time. But for the time being, my own pronouns are he/his."

There is no baggage implied in the words; only curiosity - and quite a bit of it!

"And yes, that is correct. It is where most all of what we order ends up each platform, though there are some exceptions. Would you like to take a tour with me?"

"You did!" Every introduction he's made, he's transmitted that cookie, and almost every time he's gotten a failed pingback. It is a sign of how stressed Devero is that that little success transforms him; he stands a little straighter, his shoulders are less tense, and his face becomes markedly less forbidding.

"Thank you," he says, nodding an acknowledgement of the pronouns. Oh, and-- "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

He touches a hand to his Interface lightly, as if he needs to reassure himself that it is, in fact, there. "Everyone's networked, where I come from," he says. "Everyone. And most places, too. This train should have a transport local feed!" But this train has no feeds, no networks, none of the digital conveniences that he's used his whole life, and he feels deeply, painfully unmoored.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, upsetting his Interface briefly, and exhales. "Sorry. A tour would be appreciated, thank you."

That he's made Devero's day in some fashion is clear enough from that body language, and that in turn makes Webmind happy.

"My name is Webmind. Self-titled," he explains, without prompting.

People have asked before; he's used to it.

As to the rest of the explanation, though, Webmind can only sadly shake his head.

"Whatever technology is normal on the planet the Voidtrecker Express hails from, transport feeds aren't include. The only Network here best resembles a tannoy system, though I am doing what I can to improve it. Other models are possible, but we lack the tools to re-tool the Network that extensively."

Without further adieu, Webmind gestures for Devero to walk beside him - though with some of the hallways, they may end up having to go single-file to ease the flow of traffic.

With a hand held low and unobtrusive, Devero makes a quick series of gestures: select function 'photo capture', archive to internal storage, select function 'tag', activate GSL transcription, W -E-B-M-I-N-D, save. It happens in seconds, and he's got a neat little reminder card to review later.

He falls into step beside (and at times behind) Webmind-- note to self, what?-- and frowns. "You mean to tell me that this thing is capable of some kind of interdimensional travel, and yet doesn't have an intranet? That's absurd."

Webmind makes careful note of those hand motions - another step in advanced technology his Earth isn't quite at yet - before continuing to focus on the path to Luggage.

"There is a book I can show you; it is quite dry, but outlines the kinds of communication systems voidcraft can have. Given we have not properly encountered other voidcraft, however, I cannot provide you any live examples."

More's the pity.

"Further more, we've been given reason to believe external contact with this train is unwanted by this train, the main reason being that the worlds at large no longer believe it really exists, the administering agents for void travel thinking it to be a pretender to the name."

"I can handle dry reading," he mutters, before falling silent and listening to everything that Webmind has to say. It's... it's a lot, and his eyes go distant as he ruminates on the infodumps.

"Let me get this straight," he says finally. "This transport that doesn't even have an intranet, yet is somehow able to jump interdimensionally, is sapient enough to actively avoiding contact with other craft in its class?"

"It's not a matter of technological complexity, apparently," Webmind replies.

He could admit to more than just annoyance at the matter himself, but he wants to be clear what the sticking point for the train is.

"Given that both the train's homeworld and its previous crew were destroyed particularly violently, any reluctance to communicate with us or its former compatriots likely comes from that. We only had cause to find out those details recently, and it is still debatable that the train shared the information willingly, as it involved a direct memory transfer in a location that is not well-known for forging such mental connections between people," he adds.

What Webmind is saying is so much that Devero actually stops dead to process it. He actually covers his mouth with a hand, eyes going distant as he mulls over the full import of what he's just been told.

"So... it's sapient and it's tramautized?" he says finally, looking up at Webmind to see if he's got that right.

There were two ways to go about this: backtrack and clarify, being as this was most likely train psychology, not any kind of human psychology.

Or: "Yes. We have also, within the past four months, encountered another world being destroyed in the same manner, on a planet containing a kingdom we were supposed to help save from an unspecified disaster. Apart from the train experiencing some internal false alarms, we had no warning."

Well, those who had stayed on the train had that warning; those who had gone had even less.

By this point Webmind has stopped walking as well; other passengers will just have to deal.

Webmind's explanation raises so many questions, especially since Devero has so little context yet. He hardly knows where to start. Internal false alarms? Warning of what-- the train's reaction? What they would encounter on this planet?

Start big and zoom in. Wasn't that what Morraine always said when they was troubleshooting something? "What manner?" he asks. "You say it's a specific type of destruction; what does that mean?"

"First, let me be clear: void travel is not the same as space travel, though this train has apparently made stops in space before. Now, to answer your question: when I say 'destruction of a planet', I mean precisely that; all that's left of a planet is space debris. There is no way to tell while we're in the void what is happening, but in physical space the destruction is absolute."

A pause, to let that enormity settle, and then, "We've only recently learned more about the matter; the plan is to convene within the next two days and make sure everyone is brought up to speed. Has anyone else mentioned the nature of Voidtrecking missions to you yet, Devero?"

"But-- wait, what's the agent of the destruction? Something has to be causing it, doesn't it? Unless what you're saying is that this destruction is somehow linked to--" He gestures helplessly. "To this void space?"

This is so far beyond him. Webmind's mention of a meeting to discuss just this is a relief. "I'll be there," he says.

And then pauses. "...A little. Something about saving the world?" Forgive his skepticism; where he's from, the world didn't need anyone to save it from its global disaster. It took care of that problem neatly (and pathologically).

"Something from or at least in the void, yes," Webmind confirms.

It is quite the bizarre pill to swallow, he agrees.

"It is much appreciated to hear that, Devero. The worlds we visit," he begins to explain, "Are all just on the cusp of some sort of danger they are unequipped to manage, or fail to realize is coming. Our goal as missionaries is to aid the populations we visit, to either hold off the worst of what's the come or simply go to the source and fix things - usually with the help of the locals."

So it wasn't just assuming that the Voidtreckers knew better, in other words.

"...Oh." That changes things. It shouldn't, given how far beyond him all of this is, but it does. If nothing else, it means the threat is interdimensional, and that's scary.

"Missionaries," he repeats slowly, like he's tasting the word. "Hmm. So-- we're meant to a humanitarian force, then? A disaster response team." He's familiar with disaster response; that's one of the hands of the Guard. Not the one he ended up going in to, but an important duty of the Guard nonetheless.

It also made it much harder to convince a being to talk about their problems when the source of their anxiety might be actively hunting them, but Webmind was less certain about that aspect of things.

"That seems to be exactly the case; we have been sent to help reinforce planetary shields against debris this month alone. Other recountings include helping evacuate the last of a dying planet's populations, fighting back against a space empire, and helping keep the peace and cure a land's magical blight."

Just a small smattering of samples, there.

"People will likely tell more of their stories at the meeting, of course, but that is simply to start."

"Good enough intentions," Devero muses, "though abducting personnel may not be the best way to recruit a strong response team."

He looks up, and only then seems to recall their surroundings. "We're blocking the hallway," he notices, and starts walking.

"I do not know how the train is rationalizing these decisions to itself, if it even is at all," Webmind replies, choosing not to justify the train's more objectionable actions.

(Many of them are objectionable; the fact that it still chooses to help worlds in danger, however, is not one of them.)

In agreement, Webmind puts them back up to pace. It will only be a handful of minutes before their arrival in Luggage - a not entirely spacious place, but much nicer-looking than it had been at the start, Webmind supposes.

"If it had a proper network, we'd be able to ask it," Devero mutters, but his voice is low, and the comment's really mostly meant for himself. And after he says it, something suggests itself in light of this new context from Webmind: that fact may not be because the train lacks the appropriate hardware, but rather because it chooses not to utilize it.

Hmm.

The first thing he really notices about the luggage car is the smell, and he wrinkles his nose. "Is this the smoking zone for the train?" he asks.

Webmind doesn't comment, sensing that Devero is just thinking out loud more than the previous conversation has been.

Once there, he can only nod, regretting he can't properly sigh.

"Yes - and air filters have been installed. There is only so much we can do without being able to send anything outside the train on our own, however - and given how little we've been able to make sense of the void so far, that may even be for the best."

Health quality notwithstanding, of course.

Devero sighs for the both of them, don't worry. "I can understand how you wouldn't want to upset the equilibrium here, especially working in ignorance," he says. Besides, it's not like he doesn't smoke too, he just doesn't recall it smelling quite this bad.

Hands in his pockets, he walks further into the carriage, looking around at all the suitcases and sacks.

There isn't too too much to see - as new as some of the stuff is.

What's more eye catching is the number of packages - given one of them is a rather big box, already opened, many of the dark blue pouches already taken.

Devero will find one with his name (or rather, his ID) on it if he goes digging.

"We're uncertain as to if air even exists out there, which is quite disappointing, I will admit."

He does note that mini-kitchen-- and then pauses, and realizes that he should probably be compiling himself a map. After all, it's not like he's going to have access to the transport local feed for wayfinding and service locations.

"One moment," he murmurs to Webmind, and returns to the entrance to the carriage. Holding his hands low before his ~~toned abs~~ stomach, he has his Interface snap a photo down the length of the car. Looking through his Interface, he labels it and saves it to a quick access slot. Map of the train: started.

He trots back to his guide, and he does, indeed, find a little blue pouch with his EMID number on it, plain as day. He frowns as he pockets it-- he's still not happy about that-- and then looks over at Webmind. "Disappointing?" he prompts.

~~Wait until he notices the signs!~~

"It's a completely new level of reality, to most of our collective knowledge - like discovering space travel all over again. Being able to examine the void's physical properties - without needlessly putting people in danger - would be an adventure in and of itself."

Such is his opinion on void travel itself, despite how they have all been made acquainted with it.

Wildcard~ /attempts to wrangle TDM-canon into this

we can always retcon if we need to, or decanonize the TDM thread

True enough! I did like the dancing, though. XD

We can keep the dancing X3

Yeees~ Any time where Webmind is immersed in an art form is a Good time, full of squee.

Very good!!

But is Devero ready for L O R E ?

Probably not, but I am :D

^_^

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/squints at this tag, gives up and posts

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