Distracting Rashad (or as Arkold likes to call him, "Captain Kitten") long enough for Envoy to retrieve her gear stowed away on the ship wasn't all that difficult for Maza, it seems. In fact, one might have gotten the impression that Maza enjoyed the whole episode just a little too much – or maybe she simply delights in putting on a show, so as to make Arkold jealous. Whatever happened, she returned from the encounter with a few gifts from Rashad, including a new tail bell. (*BING!*)

Riusha's family bid Envoy best wishes and the blessings of the Ocean Mother, and even went so far as to pack up some devourer meat for her journey (salted and wrapped up neatly in a package bound with a rubbery seaweed).

Lounging in the captain's chair, Arkold drawls drunkenly, "I ain't never gunna get any peace 'o mind with that girl. Never. Where's my drunk, eh?"

The Ikara's Wings skims merrily across the wave tops. Outside, it's a clear, pleasant day – though several squalls and at least one genuine hurricane have been encountered on the way so far.

Arkold's faithful mer-cat servant, Raneah, hands a bottle up to the captain. "Here, master." Not having legs, she is somewhat awkward in her movements about the ship, but she has proven herself to be fairly adaptive: she makes use of various hand-holds and pretty much makes her way about by lifting herself by her arms. She's not quite so mobile, however, when she has to actually carry something, hence coming back with a drink took a little longer than usual.

Arkold, at the helm of his ship, grips one of the wheels loosely with a hand. "Thanks, toots," the gruff gray wolf tells Raneah. He reaches his free hand over and snatches the the bottle from the mer-cat's hand without quite looking at it. "I mean, heh, wha' do I have ta do 'ere? I got a ship, I got some shekels to my name, an' she's always pushin' 'er luck with me."

Maza, seated in a clamshell chair, leans forward over her station, at the other side of the bridge. Arkold is fairly safe from her prying ears, presumably, since she has a pair of headphones (also cleverly fashioned from clamshells to encase the components inside), and puzzles over readouts, with some charts and scrawled notes hanging nearby.

Raneah looks earnestly up to Arkold. "I will always be faithful to you, master."

Behind the tarnished-golden vixen and peering over her shoulder, Envoy the Aeolun tries to make sense out of the jumble of notes. "Arkold, what is Maza listening to through these things?" she asks the captain, having figured out that the ship doesn't have a neural interface or similar technology that would explain the earphones.

The wolf beams a grin at that, turning from the window to look at the mer-cat. "See? Maz coul' stan' to be more like you, Raneah. I don' think I e'er had anyone quite like yah, an' I don' think I gunna again. Yer strange fish, Raneah, an' I like tha' jus' fine," he tells her, sounding pleased – and only faintly drunk. He looks about to say more when he finally seems to register Envoy's question and, ears perked, turns back around. "Eh, I dunno … Siren singing, urgan calls … My," he sneers, and eyes the vixen, "remark about 'er."

If Maza heard anything of Arkold's remark, she seems to be doing a fine job of pretending that she hasn't. Her brow is cutely furrowed, and she has a hand up to one earpiece as she strains to listen to … whatever it is. (Aren't you supposed to be able to hear the ocean… ?)

After touring the ship and seeing the various spots where repairs have been made (and poorly patched), Envoy has taken to wearing her wetsuit all the time and carrying her belongings around in a waterproof bag. She taps the vixen on the shoulder, trying to get her attention.

The wolf makes a vague gesture at the vixen with his wine bottle, splashing some of the bottles contents on the deck. "Bah." He ignores the vixen for the moment and turns back to Raneah. "'Ey Raneah, I was wunnerin' … you still kin sing, eh? Like yah did before?" asks the wolf.

Raneah nods meekly to her master – while Maza jolts at Envoy's shoulder-tap, then wiggles the headset off of her ears, and looks up to the winged alien. "Yes?" the golden vixen responds.

"Is the chart I brought helping you, Maza?" Envoy asks, sounding hopeful. "And what are you listening to in those ear-shells?"

Maza nods. "Yes, actually, we're getting fairly close – I was going to tell the captain – Oh! Could you tell him that we can start slowing down? I think we're almost on top of it."

"You can start slowing down now, Maza says we're almost there!" Envoy shouts across the room to Arkold.

Maza, meanwhile, presses one of the clam-pieces up to her ear again, frowning in concentration.

"See I was thinkin'," Arkold tilts his wine bottle and moves it along as if it were a ship, "if ano'er ship were ta come along, we could have yah sing at 'em, an' the dis'action would be useful. Yah think, Raneah? 'Sides, Kinda liked yer singin' before. 'Cept, uh, well … you remember. Heh." He takes another swig from his wine bottle then reaches over and eases the ships speed down. He's learned to be easy on the controls. Not like that one time.

Raneah, however, all too well trained to notice Arkold's inebriated state, clambers over to a harness and half-tucks herself into it, all the while nodding agreeably to Arkold.

The slowing isn't nearly so jarring as it was that other time, but it's nonetheless rather alarming. Maza, having learned from prior experience, is strapped into her control chair, and though she meeps loudly as the headset flies from her hand, she still stays in place. Envoy, however, is not quite so securely anchored (and wasn't around "that other time"), and is all but sent flying forward, except that she manages to catch herself on a curved brace and cling to it.

Arkold is in fine condition (save for being drunk), though his bottle goes flying from his grasp and shatters against the inside of the bridge window. In a testament to the durability of the window, nothing save for the bottle is broken. The ship shudders to a halt, hovering a few meters off the top of the waves.

"Is that normal??" Envoy asks as she gets back on her feet … but still keeps one hand gripped to a support, just in case.

"… in a manner of speaking," Maza whispers, as she reaches over to pick her headset back up.

"Dagh blas' it with a spine-shooter," curses Arkold as he finds himself without his drink. His hand clenches where the bottle had been, and he steadies himself from the abrupt stop. "Eh. I shoul' maybe quit tha' stuff anyway, heh. An' tha' other stuff … Dagh's left ear, I'm a mess. Hey," he scratches his head and looks up, "everyone alive o'er there?"

As the sounds of the ship quiet down – save for Arkold's cursing on the bridge – Envoy hears a … pinging noise, for lack of a better term. In fact, she might have heard something like it briefly when Maza's headset was removed. But she can feel it, ever so faintly, in the hull, as she holds onto the support.

Maza cheerily chimes, "We're not dead, Captain!"

"An' yah know tha'a means the worl' ta me," remarks Arkold.

Envoy blinks and listens for a moment, then asks Arkold, "Does this vessel have a sonar system?"

"A wha … ? Oh! Sonar … uh … ," the wolf answers, then pauses to think a moment. He finally just shrugs. "Havin' the foggies, me golden seeker."

"Oh," Maza says, a bit more loudly than she probably needs to, now that she has the headset back on fully. "I can hear much better now."

"It's a method for finding the range to an object by emitting sound pulses and calculating the time it takes for the echo to return," Envoy explains, and looks to Maza for the answer this time, since that's probably what she was listening to.

Maza blinks a few times, then says, "Uhm … captain … I think … I think something is getting closer to us." She wrestles the headset back off of her head, looking worried.

"Something big, like a Nessian?" Envoy asks, and wonders where the weapons are controlled from. "Can we go any higher?"

"Ah 'ell," curses the wolf in near-incomprehensible words as he tends to do when surprised. He reaches over and begins to accelerate the ship, and then eases a second lever so that the ship begins to descend. "All 'ands, we're gunna dive! Can' let 'em see us floatin' 'ere."

Maza barely manages to squeak out, "That sounds like a good – " before it turns into a scream, as Arkold executes a fairly impressive maneuver with the ship … but so impressive, that is, that one could better appreciate it if one were either: a) buckled down securely, or, b) somewhere safely off of the ship at the time.

The ship lurches forward, spins and shoots down into the water. Envoy, still standing, finds the support wrenched free from her grasp as she goes flying backward and down off the bridge, while the ship plunges into the water. Briefly, through a porthole, she gets only a brief glimpse of something surfacing – like a whale, only a great deal longer, and shaped remarkably like a Naga of absurdly great proportions, carrying a massive trident-like weapon the size of a … well, the size of a weapon that a whale-sized Naga would carry, in any case.

It all disappears in the darkness of the waters, as the shell-ship dives downward, impacted roughly by something solid impacting it to one side. Envoy's tumble comes to an end when she finds herself lying in the engine room, caught in a tangle of cables (shielded, thank goodness).

Once she reorients herself, Envoy checks that her water-filled bags haven't burst, and carefully tries to extract herself from the cables before another jolt can do any damage. "For a wolf, he sure pilots like an Eeee," she mutters.

No doubt to Envoy's relief, she finds that the Mariner-constructed containers are still intact, and that – amazingly enough – she hasn't broken anything, and her bruises are so superficial that they'll probably be gone by the time she climbs to a safer position. She manages to extract herself from the cables, though it requires some reorientation – horizontal is for the moment nearly vertical, as Arkold takes the ship into a deep and impressive dive.

Although the lights flicker faintly, the sounds of Maza's screams make it easy to pinpoint the relative location of the bridge.

Arkold, who had been plastered back in to his chair, regards his maneuver with wide-eyed amazement. "'Ey, I think I'm gettin' the hang 'o this," remarks the lupine. He tilts his head up and calls out, "E'eryone okay, eh? 'Ey Maz, stop screamin', yer gunna give us away."

"Gunna ease 'er up a bit; don' wanna do a straight-point dart-dive into the ol' dirt," mumbles the wolf. Sobered a bit by the threat of being flung to his sleeping quarters from the bridge, Arkold eases the controls to bring the ship into a curve, to level it, and thus avoid wedging it in to the sea bed.

Maza screams a few more times before she realizes that she's not quite dead yet, and pants heavily. Something jostles the ship again violently, however, and she barely manages to bite down another shriek.

Bracing herself against the hatchway of the engine room, Envoy gets an odd feeling … and removes her backpack. Opening the seal, she extracts the crystal box and takes out her crown.

"An' find out what tha' jostlin' is, one of yah," adds the wolf as he moves the controls.

The outside of the ship is illuminated by the craft's exterior lamps, which penetrate only a short distance … illuminating a wall of scales that slides by the cockpit of the clam-ship.

Maza's lower jaw quivers as she looks out the window at the wall of scales. "I … I think I've figured it out, Captain."

Meanwhile, the area around Envoy is illuminated not only by the internal lanterns … but by a flickering play of light originating from the crystals of her crown.

The wolf almost spits when he sees the … whatever it is slide by his ship. "Yah gunna share, Maz, or is my guessin' it's bad enough?" asks Arkold.

Maza trembles as she holds one clam-piece of the headset to her ear. "There's … there's more than one, Captain. I think … I think they're circling us. And … the ocean floor is out of our range. That is … I'm not getting any pings back. It's … very deep here. I think we passed over another trench."

Envoy turns her crown this way and that, trying to get find the direction that produces the strongest light. "I think we're getting close," she calls up … well through, now … to the bridge.

"I can see that, Envoy!" Maza's voice almost cracks as she calls back, her eyes fixed on another pass of those shiny scales flowing by outside … and a brief glimpse of an enormous eye that glares balefully, seeming to glow in the reflection of the ship's external lamps.

Envoy finds herself … mesmerized as she gazes into the crystal. There's a rhythm in the pulsations of the crown … in the reverberations passing through the hull of the ship … in the steady ping echoing through the structure. She finds herself … lost …

"Well uh, got any clue as … hm … " The wolf turns from the vixen to the mer-cat, and asks, "'Ey, Raneah, you know anythin' about this place? Anythin' at all? Abou' Soul-less ones? ANYTHIN'?" The wolf only looks at her a moment, his eyes kept busy by trying to dodge the sea creatures.

Raneah nods. "We are going to die, Captain," she says earnestly. "But I am happy to be dying with you!"

Did somebody say … something? wonders Envoy, briefly, as she stares at her scintillating crown, watching as the patterns of flashes keep getting stronger with the descent of the ship.

The wolf quirks for a moment, then he just shrugs. "Tha's the spirit, Raneah!" he shouts, grinning like a madman. "Maz! How close 're we, eh? I'm gunna try an' make it an' hope we'll get some cover o'er there."

Patterns of light dance off of the walls of the up-ended passage, rippling like reflections off of a disturbed pool of water.

"Oh!" Maza exclaims. "You mean … to the site? Near as I can tell, from Envoy's charts … ah … it has to be somewhere … in this trench! Oh my stars!" She peers at a scope. "Can we go that deep?"

The cockpit windows fill for a moment with the massive form of a serpentine head, which then splits open to reveal a massive maw quite capable of getting a death-clamp on the ship's hull …

"Deeper is better," Envoy mutters, watching the lights. There isn't much light deep down, she thinks. Just sound. She tries to sing along with the lights.

"We're gu-" The wolf's eyes widen, and he jerks the controls to take the ship in to a dive directly in to the canyon in order to both dodge and try and get closer to where they're going.

Envoy's eyesight grows hazy. The lights of the crown seem to coalesce, joining together, forming a glowing sphere … something alive and powerful … and something is swimming around it, back and forth, orbiting it, changing direction, in a sinuous dance of movement that keeps time with Envoy's singing – Envoy's unearthly song carries throughout the ship, building a resonance that drowns out even the thrum of the ship's "pearl" engine.

Despite Arkold's heroic attempt to avoid the maw of the serpent, its head shoots forward, and the ship jolts as its mighty jaws clamp down on the shell. The hull strains as pressure is applied … pressure quite capable of snapping a giant clam shell into pieces and getting at the soft meaty interior.

Maza cries out in pain, wrenching the headset from her ears. The sound even without magnification is fairly stressful, after all.

"'Ell!" curses the wolf. He quickly begins yanking the straps from himself and then moves to dash for the torpedo room. "'Ake the controls, Maz! I'm gunna give 'im a taste 'o a harpoon – court-e-sy Ikara's Wings!"

Maza wrestles with her harness, clambering up to the controls, while Arkold climbs downward to the torpedo room. As he gets down to the next corridor, his ears are assaulted anew by the source of the unearthly music – Envoy, who, trancelike, holds a glowing crown in her hands, with lights radiating out from it and playing off of the walls. Not that he has time to stand and watch, if he's going to do something about the ship being crushed in a few moments.

Oblivious to their predicament, Envoy keeps up her song as she watches her own private lightshow, trying to find the right sequence to make contact with the sphere.

The lupine just shakes his head violently when he spots Envoy and her unearthly lights. "I really gotta lay off that stuff," he mutters. The lupine scrambles from the ladder and slides across the torpedo room, and begins opening the hatch and preparing the ship to fire.

In a matter of moments (very expensive moments) Arkold manages to get the torpedo tube loaded and ready to go.

Without scrambling to the call tube Arkold yells, "Firing!" The wolf yanks the firing level down, giving but a second for anyone to react at all.

The ship lurches, its own movement buffered somewhat by the fact that it is clamped securely in the maw of a gargantuan sea serpent. The ship then rocks, and is tossed about, and Maza's shrill scream can be heard through the call-tube portal on the wall of the torpedo room.

There's this feeling of lightness and of one's stomach being misplaced as the ship dives once released from the leviathan's maw. "We're going down!" Maza cries from the bridge. "It worked! It worked!"

Arkold meanwhile holds on to whatever is available as the ship lurches. "An' tha's great!" he calls back towards the call tube. "Yah steerin', Maz? O'erwise we're gunna take a dirt-dive!"

The fact that the ship is now diving also means that whereas the fore of the ship was previously "up", it has now become "down", and it strains Arkold's ability to keep from banging around the interior of the torpedo room. Out in the corridor, he can see that Envoy has moved – She's now tangled up in a mass of cables in the pearl room.

Perhaps the jolt has done Envoy some good, for though she is still singing eerily, the glazed look passes from her eyes, as she becomes aware of her predicament and a vague sense of deja vu. The crown of Sifran crystal is still held in her hands, casting lights that pulsate throughout the pearl chamber, and the pearl itself – that strange piece of misplaced technology that seems a great deal more advanced than that in the rest of the ship – glows faintly as well, in a pattern that seems to match the rhythm of that projected by the crown.

Maza calls out, "Uhm … Captain? The … the controls … they aren't … RGH!" The golden vixen grunts as she wrestles vainly with the wheel, which seems to be spinning of its own accord.

The lupine looses his grasp and slides a few feet before grasping a tube and regaining his balance. He looks back towards the ladder – and notes Envoy is still there. "Well I'll be … Hey! Stop messin' aroun' with those 'ires an' get back to the bridge, 'Voy!" Carefully he begins to try and do the same, easing himself along the wall back over towards the ladder.

Envoy blinks to refocus her eyes, and stops singing once she hears Arkold.

In short order, Arkold is back up to the bridge, and Maza, with a look of relief, releases herself from the command chair's harness, and climbs her way up hand-holds to the radio operator's chair, where she buckles herself in again. The ship becomes a great deal more quiet as Envoy stops singing, though it seems that some of the music refuses to die away – and its point of origin is not immediately evident. On the plus side, there is no evidence of the giant serpent outside the ship, and no more thrashing against the hull. Less positive, however, is that the sounds of stress can still be heard. Maza blinks as she looks at her controls. "Captain … we're … very deep. We haven't gone down this far before."

"We're fine, Maz," says the captain confidently, grinning. He glances at the controls at his end to see for himself, smile wavering, then he coughs and leans back. "Well we're alive, ain't we? How close are we?"

Maza carefully puts the headset to her ear. "I … I can hear … music, Captain!"

Placing the crown on her head, Envoy frees herself from the cables again and repacks the box into her pack before starting to climb towards the bridge. The pearl reacted to the crown … or maybe to the singing? I wonder where the pearls come from? she thinks as she listens to the sounds of the hull straining.

"'Ave you been drinkin' tha' stuff too?" asks the lupine, sounding dubious.

Maza gives Arkold a simmering look, then returns to the serious business of trying to make sense of her controls. If only these things came with instruction manuals. Meanwhile, Envoy, a bit battered but not broken, makes her way up to the bridge.

Raneah mewls, "You are very skillful, Captain," as she extracts herself carefully from where she has been wrapped up by a few spins in the harness she sought shelter in during the tumult.

"Are we there yet?" the Aeolun asks while looking for some place to strap herself in. "Did I miss anything?"

Maza opens her mouth as if to say something to Envoy, but stops, with a near-incredulous look, then just shakes her head and sighs. "We're getting close to something. I'm sorry I can't be more specific – This is all still unfamiliar to me – but while the ocean floor is out of our range, there's some sort of a … precipice we're going toward. I think the music is … ah … coming from there."

Arkold returns the look with a wide grin. His hand guide the ship with something that almost resembles steadiness. Almost. Perhaps it was the drink, or the depth, or the sudden plunge … or the giant sea monster … but his hand doesn't rest easily on the controls. "Thanks toots, yer one special fish in the sea," he tells Raneah. "You know anythin' about that singin'?"

"Naw, smooth sailin'," Arkold answers Envoy.

Raneah nods. "It is the song of the Sutaranakh. We are being drawn to our final resting place. None who hear it can resist its call."

The wolf nods a little to Raneah's reply, remarking, "Well, ain't tha' cheerful." His left hand moves from the controls and he runs it through his hair uneasily. "So, uh, this is the place 'o the Soul-less ones? Sorta … yer kind o' hell or somethin'?"

Envoy thinks about that. "The Pearl engine responds to the song. It must be being drawn in."

Raneah nods ascent, though with all the talking going on, it's not completely clear just whom she is agreeing with.

"Guess that means I kin, uh … relax," says the wolf. He takes his other hand off the controls and folds both his hands behind his head, leaning back more.

Outside the cockpit window – which is starting to leak around the seams – a pair of lights can be seen dimly glowing in the distance.

The wolf watches several drops of water splash to the floor, his tail jerking every time a drop impacts the deck.

At more creaking and popping in the hull, Maza says, "I don't think relaxing is quite the – EEP!" Her remark is cut off as a pipe bursts, shooting water out, and causing the exposed wiring (So that's why it originally had sealed panels!) to spark and smoke. Her scopes blink out immediately.

Envoy takes off her crown to watch the sequence again, but is careful not to stare this time. She tries to remember the image of the song swimming around something. Maybe it will tell her where it's safest to approach? "Do you and Arkold have breathers, Maza?" she asks as the pipe bursts.

When the pipe bursts, Arkold jerks violently, and he immediately unfolds his hands and reaches for the controls to accelerate. "We're gunna die right here if we don' 'urry. It might jus' be our final restin' place, but I'm thinkin' we can rush this part 'o bit," he says quickly as he tries to ease the ship in to speeding up.

Envoy's face is eerily under-lit by the glowing crown that pulsates in her hands. The ship jerks and shudders as Arkold works the controls, expediting its descent. More creaks and pops can be heard, and more pipes burst, one after another, and leaks spring around seams. It's very cold water, too. Death by hypothermia out here is quite likely in a matter of seconds, if the pressure doesn't kill one first.

The two lights become more distinct, like widely placed eyes of a leviathan even more colossal than the one that had the ship in its maw. Envoy finds it very difficult not to be mesmerized again either by the play of lights from the crown, or the "visage" outside the cockpit window.

Envoy replaces the crown on her head. … not a good time to be distracted …

As Envoy places the crown back on her head, her curved ki'rin horn begins to glow as well, and her eyes get caught up in the luminescence. It's as if something is stirring within her … something that has been dormant for quite some time … something that shouldn't have any bearing on this alien world, where magic does not exist. But something is down here … and it is calling to her.

Meanwhile, pipes burst left and right, and the ship rocks, as the image fills Envoy's head of the circling pattern … a path through … something. Her mind fills with an image of the clam-ship in miniature, superimposed upon this image, off course, and being crushed by the forces of the ocean.

Arkold looks around to the others. "Well, Maz … s'been great knowin' yah. Raneah, there ain' ne'er been anyone quite like yah, yer a real pal. Envoy … sorry I stole yer pur- … "

"It's the Seed," Envoy mutters, and then starts calling out directions to Arkold. "30 degrees positive on the Y axis, 15 degrees negative on the X axis … there's a safe path."

Arkold is cut off when the alien woman begins giving directions, and having not a plan in his head at the moment, follows the directions as best he can. "You got it 'Voy."

The ship still creaks and complains … but then … the moving gets far easier as Arkold manages to get on the course that Envoy describes – continually giving him course corrections. When he is slow to make the correction, the ship complains loudly, and the already existing leaks are still contributing water to the interior of the clam-ship … but perhaps death is not so certain after all. Not just yet, anyway.

Arkold directs the ship as best he is able, trying not to overshoot the directions. "Abou' wha' I was sayin' … never mind."

In the tense moments that follow – Maza chewing her lip, Envoy giving directions in a trance-like state, and Arkold straining his piloting abilities to make the course corrections – the Ikara's Wings makes a roundabout course, taking what seems to be far too long to actually get to its destination … but now their destination can be made out through the murk: There is a great rocky precipice jutting out over the abyss, with evidence of ancient destruction of the surrounding formations … and on the precipice is a gargantuan ship of alien design, and very serpentine lines.

Its original form is greatly obscured by mineral growths on its hull, but it is obviously unnatural in origin – and this becomes more evident as the Ikara's Wings makes its final circuit, coming up underneath a break in the precipice. Lights flicker on underneath, and an iris-like hatch cycles open, large enough to encompass the clam-ship or a small urgan easily. That would appear to be a lock of some sort.

"The Sutaranakh is inviting us in," Envoy comments.

"Whoa," remarks the lupine as the alien vessel comes in to view. "Take a look at tha', eh? Ain't that somethin'? Maz, we may jus' leave 'ere richer than any prince af'er all. Let's take 'er in." And with that, the wolf guides the vessel to dock.

"B-but," Maza stammers, "it's … it's … alive?" Actually, it doesn't look particularly organic at all. Perhaps Maza is just shaken up after the recent adventure.

"Part of it is," the Aeolun says, thinking of the spherical plant she saw on Abaddon.

The clam-ship rises up and into the lock, into a spacious chamber large enough to house several clam-ships, half-submerged in water, while the iris cycles shut beneath it. Indeed, there are several clam-ships lying about here and there, and what look like skeletal remains of small urgans – and perhaps other strange Ashtorean creature-vessels as well. Lights flicker on, illuminating the interior of the bay in a golden glow, and the walls glow with arcane sigils that are half-submerged by the water, half encrusted with debris.

Envoy releases herself so she can get a better look at the markings on the walls. "How long will it take to repair the ship, Arkold? Maybe you can get parts from some of these other ones."

Maza says, "There's a bilge-pump … and I found some goop that's used for sealant." She wrinkles her nose distastefully.

Arkold leans forward to stare out the windows while guiding the ship in with one hand. "I'm jus' glad we ain't flat-fish fit fer clam cakes," he says. "I ain't never seen anythin' like that. No' on Rephidim, no' in all the books I 're read … Uh," he blinks and glances to Envoy and then around the bridge of the ship, "the ship? I dunno, I'm gunna have to check it out once we're out."

The clam-ship bobs on the surface of the water, not quite able to retain its very useful hovering ability. The normal thrumming of the pearl sounds discordant and not-altogether pleasant. It could have something to do with the general state of disrepair of the ship at this point. Being chewed on by a giant sea serpent and subjected to tremendous pressures and strange alien technology can do that.

"Nobody seems to be coming to greet us," Envoy says, as she moves around to look out the various windows, still trying to get a clear look at the sigils on the walls … at least enough to determine if they're Imperial script or not.

There's no immediate sign of life outside the ship, save that it appears that the bay contains an air pocket (though it remains to be seen yet whether it's truly breathable). Everything looks quite dead outside.

"I can't read them," the Aeolun admits after her examination. "They don't match with normal Imperial letters, so they could be symbols instead. Who wants to go out first?"

Maza says, "I'll go start the bilge pump!" and scurries down the ladder.

"May'aps one o' these 'ere lost swimmers might still work an' we kin take one of 'em. Kinda 'ate givin' up the ship though." The lupine begins releasing himself from the control seat and stands, hand still guiding the ship. He directs it towards one of the docking ports now. "Yah'll better be gettin' ready firs'. Get yer gear and yer weapons then meet me at the water-lock," he says.

Some time later, with a bit of suiting up, the crew of the Ikara's Wings gathers up on top of the hull (all of them save Raneah, who is more at home in the water), as it rests somewhat awkwardly on a pile of debris that hopefully will keep it from sinking any further if it continues to take on water.

"Sutaranakh, status report!" Envoy hisses loudly in Imperial, in case the ship has still-functioning artificial intelligence.

The air is breathable after all, though it seems only barely. If it were not obvious by now, the ship must still have some functions of that wondrous technology of the ancients, in order to have these artificial lights and to have a breathable atmosphere. It would seem, however, that it was not part of the original design to have half of the bay submerged in water. There are platforms poking partially above the water, and some that are visible submerged just beneath the surface, illuminated by underwater lighting. Lower doorway hatches are completely submerged and inaccessible for the moment, but there are upper-level doors that might offer some means of entry into the deeper parts of the ship.

The ship's ventilation system makes a low, regular hiss, like labored breathing. Nothing responds to Envoy's attempt to vocally interface with the ship's computer, however.

Arkold draws his machine-pistol and glances around the interior of the gigantic submerged vessel. "So … uh, what're we lookin' fer again?" he asks.

"I thought you wanted treasure?" Envoy asks, then points to one of the upper landings and says, "I could fly up to one of those and look around. It's a bit cold to go swimming through one of the underwater passages."

Numerous ships and remains of ships lie around the chamber – perhaps a score total – and none of them appear to be in any better shape than the Ikara's Wings – far from it, indeed. Raneah weaves her way back and forth through the water – It may be comfortable for her, but all evidence suggests that Envoy's assessment will probably hold true for Arkold and Maza.

"Well, uh, yah. I mean what're you lookin' fer. I 'eard you wanted somethin' 'ere an' tha's a good a start as any," clarifies Arkold. He takes a few steps and tilts his head to eye the distant hatches. "I don' wan' anyone goin' off in 'ere alone. We need to find a door we can all reach."

Maza mumbles, "Somehow, I never quite figured out this part of our expedition ahead of time."

"An' … ain't there suppose to be, uh, demons 'ere? Or were one of them ship-bitin' red-eyed slick ship-biters them?" asks the Jupani.

Envoy removes the crown from her head to study the light patterns again. "I'm looking for a sphere-shaped plant. The one I saw before wasn't very large, but if there is one here, it could be any size."

The light patterns are quite active. It would seem that Envoy has most certainly arrived at a location of quantum strangeness – and she would do well not to gaze too long into its scintillating patterns.

The Aeolun hmms, and replaces the crown on her head. "There's a lot of flux here, and I can't really get a fix on what direction to go."

"What are you talking about, Envoy?" Maza asks Envoy, cocking her head to one side.

"Right. Uh, well, if we wan' sphere-sized engines we're gunna need to find the engine room 'ere, I'm guessin'," Arkold offers. He takes a few more steps forward and tries to find and easily accessed doorway. "Well, we better jus' look aroun', then. Maz, Raneah, I want you to repair the ship and stay 'ere 'til 'Voy an' I return."

"My crown reacts to changes in the local probability field," Envoy explains … sort of … to Maza.

"Oh," Maza says. "So … it's a … uhm … General Weirdness Detector?"

Envoy thinks about that, then says, "It doesn't react to me… "

As Arkold scans about the room, some of his skills from a less reputable profession of his past comes into play – by gingerly traipsing across some exposed bones and other debris, he may be able to get to a submerged stairway, only getting his feet wet briefly (and the boots help with that, too).

Maza says, "Well, it does glitter a bit more brightly when you put it on, I notice."

The Aeolun blinks at this information. "Oh," she comments, and then watches Arkold's progress to figure out which opening he's trying for.

"I be' it goes right off'er the scale with us, heh." The wolf grins and peers around more. "Yah know, if this be 'ell … there're some people in the world who jus' got their wish. Heh heh heh!" The wolf laughs some as he jumps from one rib section, careful to land easily least he break what he stands on or slip into the ocean. "C'mon 'Voy."

"Oh, do be careful, Captain!" Maza calls after Arkold. "We'll be in a terrible mess if you get yourself killed!"

Raneah helpfully swims close to Arkold, watchful for any opportunity to fish him back out should he slip and fall.

Envoy spreads her wings and launches herself after the wolf, wondering how Maza rates the mess they're currently in.

Seeing as Envoy does not voice her wondering, Maza does not reply. Meanwhile, Arkold manages to make it to the stairway with only a brief stumble and a small splash, but without getting more than his boots wet, and certainly no danger of freezing just yet. Envoy's travel is far easier, of course, having wings and plenty of room to fly about the bay.

Envoy flies to the top of the stairs to wait for the wolf.

"You bet'cha Maz, you ain't gettin' rid 'o me yet," calls the wolf back to the vixen from the stairs. "An' you too, Maz, and you, Raneah. Don' go wanderin' around!"

With his version of well-wishing done Arkold turns and begins his way up the stairs to meet Envoy.

Maza calls out, "Oh! Please don't leave me here with all these dead things!" She gingerly attempts to follow Arkold's lead … and, really, she seems to have a fairly easy time of it. Raneah, on the other hand, is a lot slower once out of the water, having to grab onto handrails and haul herself up. The stairs, incidentally, are fairly awkward, not necessarily made exclusively for humanoid feet.

"Wha'? Gunna follow me, 'eh?" The lupine shakes his head for a moment, then thumbs back towards the door. "Fine, fine. C'mon."

Envoy is slightly puzzled by the stairs. She hadn't expected an Imperial ship to have mixed crew.

The door – large enough to allow someone twice Arkold's height to pass through – is evidently meant to slide open, split irregularly down the middle and covered in elaborate patterns and repetitions of sigils that must have some sort of special meaning for this ship. The door is darkened and cratered as if subjected to some sort of explosion from the outside, but nonetheless is apparently still sealed.

Around the blasted area, the mineral growths are sparse enough that the underlying patterns can be made out, and a blood-red ceramic-like material, trimmed in gold. It looks as if someone has attempted to pry off sections of the trim, but it's doubtful that it is indeed genuine gold, even from a cursory inspection.

While he waits for the rest of his crew to catch up the Jupani turns back around wand walks over to the door, placing a hand on it and tracing the craters – and the "gold" beyond. "A ship made 'o gold … How abou' tha'." He turns to glance over his shoulder, yelling, "Hey, Maz! The ship's made 'o gold!"

*BING* "Really?" Maza cries out, and rushes the rest of the way to the stop of the stairs. Not even giving the trim a cursory examination, she pulls out a small tool and starts trying to pry away at it.

"It looks like somebody tried to force the door open, unsuccessfully," Envoy tells Arkold, and presses against one of the sigils to see if it depresses or reacts in any way.

The wolf looks oddly not quite as impressed as he probably should be when faced with a gold ship. In fact, he's smirking. "Heh heh he-uh … ?"

As Envoy presses the sigil, it illuminates, and the door snaps open so quickly that Maza's tool is sent spinning from her hands, landing with a kerplunk in the water below.

"Meep!" Maza squeaks, checking her hand to verify that all fingers are intact.

Envoy blinks in surprise herself. "It usually takes longer than that," she admits, and looks to see what's beyond the doorway.

The door opening suddenly startles the wolf out of his joke, and he levels his pistol at what might lay beyond the once-sealed lock.

Mist rolls out from the room beyond, which is even more dimly lit than the bay. A "T" intersection lies beyond, the center hub having a much higher and semi-domed ceiling, topped with paneled lighting that gives the appearance at first of a window, save that the light is obviously artificial in origin behind it. The walls of the corridors branching off to each side are mostly lost in shadow, angled in such a way as to have many recesses, and track lights that bathe the blood-red pattern-work in a dim glow, glinting off of brassy trim darkened by tarnish – or other things, for there are many dark stains to be seen on the walls, once one has become accustomed to the light.

A thick mist clings to the floor, and the corridor echoes with the slow breaths, hissing and gasping, of the ship's ventilation system.

Envoy probes at the mist with the end of her staff, to see if there's anything hidden underneath besides the floor.

"Well, 'ere goes. Arkold in 'ell … Guess all those curses I got yelled at me actually worked, eh?" He lowers his gun to aim in towards the distant floor in case something comes from the ground and carefully steps forward.

There is a crunch and a squish, as Envoy's staff touches something organic. The smell of fresh decay erupts fresh into the air, prompting Maza to look ill, then lean over the railing and make choking noises.

Arkold, alas, gets a much more personal touch of it, as he can feel his boot sink into some sort of remains that seem awfully "fresh" for the supposed age of this ship. Something died here, and relatively recently … but long enough ago to get a bit rank.

Envoy retracts her staff to examine the tip for damage, and fans her wings to try and blow back some of the mist.

A few pieces of gore drop free from the tip of Envoy's staff, but otherwise the staff itself seems none the worse for fear. As she fans her wings, the smell becomes almost unbearable, but she gets a glimpse of something vaguely reptilian – and very chewed on – lying in an advanced state of decay on the floor.

The wolf just stops when his boot sinks in to … whatever died here. "Gah." He scowls at the floor and tries to pull his foot free without losing his boot in the process. "Dagh's two horns, ain't anyone ever gunna die somewhere convenient?"

*SPLORK* Arkold pulls his boot free. It releases more stench, but by now that's hardly noticeable, considering that the air is aromatic enough as it is.

"Guhhhh," Maza moans.

The wolf turns and kicks his foot into the wall to try and shake some of the gore from his boot. "Havin' fun yet, Maz? Jus' think 'o gold as shiny as uh … you were," he remarks gruffly.

Pinching her nose closed, Envoy tries stepping around the corpse, trying to get a closer to the pictograph on the wall opposite the doorway. "The survivors may have gone mad, or turned cannibal … or let something loose they didn't mean to."

*Hisss-HA* The ship is silent save for the constant "breathing" of the ventilation system, and the lights from Envoy's crown play eerily against the walls.

"Hear tha'? Maybe this 'ere guys was somethin's snack." The wolf shakes his boot off a bit more, then just seems to give up on whatever might still be sticking to him and turns to peer down the hallway. "Or maybe there be demons 'ere, still."

The corridor stretches down an unfathomed distance, its end obscured in haze, though it appears to be (dimly) illuminated along most of its length. (There are shadows along the way where the ancient lighting must have given out, and someone failed to keep up with proper maintenance.)

Envoy studies the glyph. "Maza, can you come look at this?" she calls to the vixen. "It might symbolize spacecraft, for the hangar … or flight control or propulsion for that matter," she speculates, tracing the stylized winged serpent with a claw tip.

Maza comes back, carefully hugging the wall. Raneah has a much uglier time of it, and fails to get around the corpse without touching it a few times, though she doesn't make a big deal about it.

As soon as Raneah's tail is completely free of the door – the door *snaps* shut in an eye-blink. Maza lets out a squeak of alarm, and a boom echoes through the walls.

Envoy jumps at the noise, and turns to see the closed door … which she moves back towards to see if there are any symbols or controls on this side.

The Jupani, who had turned to actually help Raneah around the corpse once he noticed her difficulty, jerks as the door slams shut a few feet from his face. He eases back and runs his left hand through his hair again. "Dagh!"

Yes, as a matter of fact, there are, and Envoy seems to be getting the hang of the basic controls. The door can be opened or closed, of course, and it looks like there's an indicator of whether there is breathable air on the other side, if she's reading this correctly. Presently, the indicator is blinking yellow, then flickering to red.

More banging noises can be heard beyond the wall and the door, and it sounds as if something heavy is pushing against it, though the door shows no signs of budging.

The wolf turns around and levels his gun to aim down the corridor – just in case. "I was wrong," he starts. "I don't need to quit drinkin'. I need more. Lots more."

"I think it's trying to cycle the atmosphere in the hangar," Envoy guesses. "It's probably filling up with water now." She points to the flickering light, and says, "I wouldn't try to open any doors with a red light showing like this."

*Hsss-haaa* … *Hsss-haaa* … *Hsss-haaa*

"Maz? 'Voy? Did'ja brin' some lights with yah?" asks the captain.

Maza busies herself with studying the pictogram. "I … I think this bounding frame over the … ah … winged serpent … I think it represents a house … a home … a shelter for the winged serpent. I think."

"Oh. Lights? Of course! I just didn't need it yet," the vixen says. She shuffles around in her pack and produces a bulky electric lantern that, in a pinch, could be used to batter someone's skull with, too. (The same can be said of most inventions of Kampfzengruppe origin.)

"Shelter … oh, it must mean the hangar," Envoy says. "Home for flying machines."

"Great. Now uh … can yah find out where this misty hall goes to, eh?" asks the Jupani and he tries to get a better look down the corridor. Again, more carefully than before lest he step in something else, he begins forward.

Envoy searches the walls for more symbols.

Alongside the passage, amidst all the sigils are some distinct icons that appear to be connected to lines that trace down to the floor. If it weren't covered in mist and debris, it might be possible to find the ends of the lines, which are slightly raised.

To the right, Envoy finds sigils that – to the best of her knowledge – suggest a "head" or "command", "fangs" or "weapons", a "burrow" or "bunks", and a stylized food animal (cafeteria?), as well as some other sigils not immediately within her grasp. To the left, there are icons for a stylized flame, a container with many things in it, a stylized atom, a DNA chain, and a snake head with some sort of grid superimposed upon where its brain might be in cross-section.

Raneah, meanwhile, hauls herself along to the best of her ability after Arkold.

*Hsss-haaa* … *Hsss-haaa* … *Hsss-haaa* The mists stir about lightly, settling heavily in the wake of Arkold and Raneah, obscuring the floor once more behind them.

Envoy taps on the stylized atom, and says, "This is probably the symbol for the power room, and this one," she taps on the container next, "is the cargo hold."

Maza nods. "That seems reasonable," she offers.

The Jupani peers down the hall, then swings his gun around to aim it behind them for a moment to check that they aren't being ambushed form the other way before aiming it back to the left again. "Stay behin' me Raneah," he whispers. Back to Envoy he says, "So our choices are, uh … power or the cargo hold?"

Up to Arkold's right, he can see what looks like another door down the corridor, though he can't see it that clearly yet – It's most likely closed.

"I'd think there would be much more treasure in the cargo hold," Maza offers.

"There are lots of choices," Envoy says. "I'd like to visit the bridge and computer room, too. There could be valuable information stores there."

"Huh, there be a door up 'ere. Gunna check it out, c'mon," Arkold tells the others. Slow and careful he edges down the hall, aiming his gun at this stirring section of mist or that shifting shadow. "Le's jus' start 'ere first. We kin check it all inna straight and true course."

In short order, Arkold is right in front of the door. It has some sort of strange sigil to one end … but it's just a squiggly, serpentine pattern, and means nothing to him. At least it doesn't look like a skull or any such thing.

"Right." The wolf steps closer to the controls and eyes them, finding he isn't sure what any of it means and tries to puzzle out what might be "open". His right hand keeps a careful aim on the door as he tries a button that looks like it might open the doors. Maybe.

Ah! Arkold is getting the hang of it. He perfectly depresses the correct button on the first try, and is rewarded by the door snapping abruptly open, whereupon several things on the other side just as abruptly stir and turn about, facing baleful eyes upon Arkold as he intrudes upon their domain. They look like some sort of bizarre cross between Naga and piranha, greatly misshapen, some with four eyes on one side and two on the other, another with two vestigial left arms and a large meaty arm on the right, another with bony spines protruding painfully from its back. They have red-marked mouths, and the wretched threesome appear to be in the process of feeding upon a fallen fourth of their "kind". They let out raspy roar-hisses at Arkold's intrusion, showing a great many fangs – sharp if misshapen.

"Uh … heh." The wolf quickly presses the button again, very, very quickly. He meets the monsters with a nervous grin. "Hey – gotta go."

Hitting the open button again does not appear to cause it to close. Just not very user-friendly, now is it? The creatures aren't, either…

*PAKA-PAKA-PAKA* The piranha-nagas leap at Arkold, but his gatling pistol is already in hand, and it erupts in a hail of lead, tearing into the bodies of the misshapen monsters and painting the already red walls behind them with a slightly shinier coating.

Just then, as Maza lets out a startled squeak and tries to find cover, and Envoy tears her gaze away from the sigils to see flashes of gunfire down the hall … a door snaps shut, splitting the corridor in between herself and Arkold!

Envoy stares at the sudden barrier, and listens to the sound of gunfire on the other side. "I knew I should have paid more attention to how Arkold piloted the ship," she says with a sigh.