4185/Gombar and Gombar

Gombar and Gombar
Date of Scene:	20 November 2020
Location:	Mostly the planet Gombar, with a short visit to the planet Gombar in the middle.
Synopsis:	The wreck of Endovar's ship The Beating Heart is located, and the descendants of the original navigators are charmed, bulldozer style, into helping access its navigation logs. Endovar's secret base - and the way home - has been found.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Victor Stone, Terry O'Neil, Caitlin Fairchild

---

Donna Troy has posed:
    In an impossible system of impossible worlds, there is nothing more impossible - and more clearly evidence that the space within the singularity and the seven worlds that inhabit it are an artificial construct - than this.

    The war-torn and battered hulk of the Titan's ship limps onwards through space and the final stop comes into view. Gombar, the world on which the wreck of the Beating Heart lies, lost for hundreds of years. Gombar, the promised land of scientific reason, declared by Lucan on that first day in this strange universe to be the one sane planet in the system. What Lucan had not mentioned was that Gombar is two worlds, a double planet locked together in an impossible orbit that defies any concept of scientific reason that the Titans know of. Two near identical planets, each perhaps eighty percent ocean and twenty percent lush green landmasses of strikingly similar shapes - the two globes are not perfect clones, but it's close.

    Most impossible of all, most unreasonable, the two planets orbit around a barycenter that is just a few hundred miles from the surface of each, yet somehow there is no sign of the land-destroying tides that should result, no sign that atmospheres have been ripped from each world in the way all reasons says they should. If it was possible to handwave the extraordinary nature of the system as perhaps some bizarre but feasible novelty of the enfolded singularity, this surely denies the theory - not only is this entire system clearly artificial, but somehow something is dynamically maintaining the position of these worlds against all logic; some incomprehensible finessing of gravity and the laws of physics that indicate its creators must have been unparalleled cosmic engineers with an incomprehensible plan.

Victor Stone has posed:
"See, this kind of Doctor Who bullshit is why my spatial senses don't work here," Vic grouses as he idly spins the holographic model of the approaching binary planets that hovers over the engineering console. He's leaned haphazardly to the side, one elbow propped on a corner of the station, the other raised to bat at the dimensional display. "You can't bend space enough to make some garbage like that exist and expect a gyroscope to work right. Not to mention whatever weird alien salvage my dad saw fit to cram in."

Speaking of alien salvage, over on another corner of his console is the component he liberated from the pain machine on Alfort. He's been toying with it during the duller moments of their approach, hooking it up to diagnostic tools as well as various other bits of electronics he happened to have handy. (Funny thing about a decaying, wrecked warship: it's full of weird spare parts.) At various points he has confidently announced that it was the tuner that zeroes in on particular tattoo types, the engrammatic template for the pain it caused people to feel, and some kind of scanning module. Currently, he's pretty sure it's the psionic transmitter that allowed the machine's influence to be felt from miles away.

But back to their current situation: "I'm routing what discretionary power we have to the scanning arrays. Let me know if you pick up anything about our crashed warship."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"You know..." says Terry, staring at the cosmic impossiblity through the viewscreen, "I once read a story by Italo Calvino about a planet where the moon got so close, people could just put up a ladder and go visit it and harvest some edibles that grew on its surface."

The red-headed human taps his chin in a by-now familiar gesture, and then points that finger at the screen. "That story seems a lot more plausible than what I'm looking at right now."

He leans back on his seat, feet up on the console, and he turns his head to glance at his team-mates. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this whole trip has been nothing but a visit to my subconscious. Except that I don't think I could get /this/ crazy if I tried."

Eyes on his console, on the lookout for any signs of wreckage, he adds "At least, I think so. Kian apparently trips balls when he touches me as the Cheshire Cat. So did Gar when he turned Akiar, so who  knows?"

He is glad nobody has mentioned the tattoo incident. It seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time- when he was the Cheshire Cat. This gives credence to his doubts, and to the potential psychotropic nature of his other half's state of mind.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I"m not saying I could cross that gap with one jump, but with a little rocket assistance and a skateboard ramp, I bet I could get close," Caitlin muses. She's at the conn, watching the gravimetric sensors ping and chug as they work out the approach vectors. One foot's tossed up on the control dock; she looks comfortably relaxed as they make the approach vector.

"Vic, don't overdo it with the power. I'm getting a feedback loop or something," Caitlin frowns. "The computer can't make heads or tails of it. Like there's a bunch of negative numbers in a lumpy mass at the barycenter between the two planets. I can't even get a scanner lock on the area, it just reads as null space. Anyone else seeing this?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "This doesn't surprise me," Donna comments. "None of this surprises me at all. That's a bad thing, isn't it? It's a sign this place is getting to me. I ought to be surprised." She sighs, staring at the growing image of the dual planet growing larger in the viewing screens. "How do you even get into an orbit around a mess like that?"

    As it turns out this is a problem that isn't too hard to solve - you just orbit far enough away that the peturbations of the relative positions of the two worlds won't be enough to disrupt the orbit, and give up on any hope of something approximating geosynchronicity. Hopes for setting up a sensible orbital path for scanning the surface for signs of ship wreckage are out the window, and which of the two planets is the ship likely to be on, anyway? Locating the Beating Heart won't be quite as quick as had been hoped, but the Titans do have a real advantage here. The Dreadnought was built to be a command center in massed space battles, and its sensor suite is extremely good at locating space ships over a wide area. While drives and weapons systems have taken a severe beating the sensors are in fairly good order, though running on lower than optimal power with the Dreadnought's only supply of energy being the salvaged mini fusion reactor the Titans installed with Lucan's help. Still, planetary distances are small compared to the deep space range the ship was intended to monitor, so hopefully it won't take too long.

    "...Unless it's deep under water somewhere," Donna mutters in response to an unspoken thought. She stands up and paces impatiently, partly to stretch her legs, partly becuase the waiting is agony. The end could be in sight. With the Koranian's flight logs to compare, if they can get the flight logs of the Beating Heart they should be able to determine the location of Endovar's secret base, the one the Koranians never found - and surely the secret to the White Hole's location will be found there.

    And so it all comes down to Gombar. Here is where the Beating Heart must surely be found, and here is where the descendants of the Beating Heart's crew settled. According to Lucan, those descendant have taught their children the navigation codes through the generations, so it should be possible to find someone who can interpret them - and yet hadn't Lucan also said that seeking the wreck of the Beating Heart was a common past-time amongst those families that claim that descent? If it was on their own world all along, how is it that nobody ever found it?

    Donna ends her pacing, finding herself standing by the console where Vic's liberated whatever-it-is sits. She stares at it curiously for a while, but can make little sense of it. While she has on occasions proven to have a surprisingly decent grasp of physics for someone from an apparently iron-age culture and has even been found from time to time struggling to make sense of the mathematics of black holes in the last few days, she's no engineer. She ends up standing behind Vic where he works the sensors, and rests a hand on his shoulders. "Won't be long now, Vic. We'll get out of this place and you won't have to worry about any more Doctor Who bullshit, hopefully for a very long time at least. It's gonna be okay, you'll see."

Victor Stone has posed:
"I didn't think we had enough power to overdo it, even if we wanted to," Vic says with an expression of consternation. Nevertheless, he scales back the juice a bit before pulling up his own copy of the sensor readout. He hums for a second as he stares at it, then says, "Wow, guys, I think we just found an honest-to-God Spatial Anomaly. If this were Star Trek, I'd say to launch a probe into it to get the A plot started, but with this ship in the shape it's in, we'd have to settle for pitching an empty beer can."

He mulls over that for a second, then shakes his head ever so slightly. "We could always crash directly into it and figure things out that way. Or ask the people on the planet what they think of it, since that has worked out so wonderfully for us this whole time." He pauses for barely a fraction of a second before making up his mind: "Yeah, never mind, dumb suggestion. Ramming speed!"

He's kidding, of course. All the more so when that readout he's mulling over gives a little ping and a blue icon appears on the surface of one of the planets. He glances over his shoulder at Donna, gives a confused little shrug, and then taps the icon, zooming in to reveal that it was actually located underwater, near the coastline of an island. "That's odd," he says, automatically on his guard after the many disappointments this pocket dimension has served up. "Seems like it should have been harder to find than that." Still, the readout is pretty clear: that's a crashed ship of just the size and configuration of the one they're looking for. "Ensign Vorpal, if you can handle that distance safely, it might be time for us to beam down and finally get a look at the beating heart of this mystery." Has he been--?

"And before you ask, yes, as your space captain, I consider it my duty to have a dramatic one-liner prepared for the denouement of the season's through-line."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Captain, I must respectfully inform you that the only person on this ship qualified to ram it into a planet usually tends to be the Counselor, or people whose last names sound like 'Troi,' both of which point to Donna." The redhead grins, sitting up and reaching into his satchel for his mirror. "But I think I can hop that diatance. Which means the cat has to come out of the bag."

Grasping the mirror in his hand, he looks at the other Titans, "For goodness' sake, try to not let me embarrass us too much. I think that the crazy of this place sort of super-charges my own special brand of... well."

He also grabs the slim flashlight, which he got back in Gateway- "Just in case..." and then transforms.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "The worst thing about going on a space adventure," Donna opines, "The absolute worst thing, is that I thought I had heard the end of Deanna Troi jokes in 2014 or so. Yet here we are in space, and I am /not/ the ship's counselor. I'm the combat specialist, remember?" She checks her shield is straight on her back and her sword is loose in the scabbard. "Not that I'm likely to be called on for that much on a planet of scientists. Nerd World. I'm missing Alfort already. First time I felt useful since we got here."

    As if to prove the point, Donna is the first to step through the Rabbit Hole when Vorpal summons it, stepping out onto the beach of the small island, a few hundred feet from where the Beating Heart lies broken on the sea-bed. As the other three join her she's staring out to sea.

    The four Titans are not alone on the beach - a short, extraordinarily fat and rather amorphous alien stands not far away, at an easel, with a palette in its hands. "Bwah! Where did you four pop up from?" it asks curiously. "You're standing... no! Forget that. Stand just where you are! It's quite perfect." It dips a brush into a jar that smells of turpentine, drags it across the palette and starts making rapid marks on his canvas. "Don't move a muscle!"

Victor Stone has posed:
"Ram that anomaly Caitlin found, not the planet," Vic clarifies with a glance at Vorpal. "I wouldn't even joke about the planet... crashing into that thing would be too easy to do accidentally, so it hits a little too close to home." He chuffs out a little laugh, then adds, "I mean, literally. We've been living here for a while now."

Jokes aside, he's through the rabbit hole just behind Donna -- although he pauses to mutter teasingly to Vorpal, "Sounds like someone hasn't had her chocolate sundae today" before making the leap.

Once his feet dig down into sand, he shades his eyes and glances at the alien that addresses them, then turns away and neatly edits the being out of his reality. "Man, I wish I'd brought my fishbowl helmet or the legs with the little propellers," he says, striding down the beach's gentle slope toward the breakers. "I've had so many modifications since I got here, I'm not even entirely sure I'm waterproof at the moment. If you get Vorpal down to the ship, he can portal me in, right?" His face sets into a slightly grimmer expression as he adds, "I guess that makes me responsible for first contact in the meantime."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Note to self, pack extra WD-40 and sealing compound," Caitlin asides to Victor. She squints up at the sky, then looks around the beach. No giant killer clams or apes on horseback; so far, so good.

"We can't stay long," Caitlin advises the painter. "We're on Gombar, right? What's your name, sir?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal oooohs at the Chocolate Sunday dig, "Careful, Captain. If she takes out the scrunchie, you're in big trouble..." he grins, "Besides, Deanna Troi was the secret badass of that ship, and I will fight anyone who tells me otherwise."

He is the last to step through the portal, of course. He is their walking teleporter, so he goes where the team goes.

What do you expect as first contact on a planet of scientist? Well, Henri Mattise On Space is definitely not one of those things. "Sacre bleu! An artist!"

The imperatives to Donna from the artist clearly spark the Cheshire's mischievous side, because suddenly there is a bed where there was none (four poster one, even) and on that bed, there is Vorpal.

No, he is not nude, thank god, but instead he is wearing ... a maid outfit. What comes next is inevitable, you might say that everything has been leading to this one, singular and solitary moment:

"Paint me like one of your French girls!"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna glances towards the alien artist who we shall for now refer to as Vincent Van Blob, but quickly turns away again, obviously deciding to leave him to Vorpal's cruel mercies. She shucks her shield, puts her sword down on it, and drapes the black cape which had supposedly once belonged to Endovar over them. Without a word she strides out into the surf, and after a few strides dives beneath the surface.

    Vincent looks on at the disappearing Amazon and the appearing four-poster with approximately equal bafflement. "The composition is ruined" it declares insouciantly. Giving its brush a thorough swirl in the turpentines and setting it down, Vincent turns from his canvas to regard the remaining three Titans thoughtfully.

    "My name is Enn," he responds to Caitlin. "Painter extraordinaire! I am uncertain what has happened. Four of you appear as if from nowhere, then one dives into the sea for a swim. There are better beaches than this for swimming on, I assure you. Then a bed of peculiar conformation appears, and one of your number's clothes have changed to this..." he gestures towards Vorpal "...bizarre concoction. I have many questions, yet I relish the mystery of it too much to wish to know the answers. Except for one thing. What on Gombar is 'French'?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin gives Terry an exasperated look and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"It's a-- nevermind, he's trying to be funny," Caitlin explains to Enn, and dismisses Vorpal with a wave. "I'm Caitlin, this is Terry. Vic, here, and Donna--" she blinks in surprise as the Amazon simply vanishes under the gently lapping waves.

"Um... that was Donna."

"Listen, I'm sorry to be terse but we're kind of on a mission with a timeline here. We're looking for the Beating Heart," she tells Enn. "Our scanners tell us it's nearby, like... right under the water, actually. Can you tell us if we're remotely in the right area?" she inquires of the arist. "Or, failing that, if there's an... archivist or engineer or historian around here who knows anything about the ship?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Looking decidedly chastised, Vorpal reverts to normal- or as normal as Vorpal can get, clearly trying to be on his best behavior. "It's a place where rude people and snails come from."

Okay. Maybe a little.

"What Caitlin says. It seems that our goal is somewhere under the sea... but I am not an acquatic species."

A quick glance to the water, "unlike Amazons, apparently," he mutters. He turns his attention back to the painter, and echoes Caitlin, "So whatever help you can provide will be greatly appreciated."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "A quest for a beating heart," Enn exclaims, "Is the finest, most primal quest of all!" A huge grin spreads across his features. It looks playful yet at the same time gives the strong impression that his species involved from something very predatory, with a noble excess of teeth. "You have certainly come to the right world, for if there is any world to seek a beating heart it is Gombar. We concern ourselves with the true stuff of Life, the exaltations of mind and spirit that drives a life to exulting motion! Ah, Tamurlane. A favorite of mine, I must confess."

    Enn's grin grows somehow wider, and he gives a shake of his head. "Ah you must excuse my joviality. The pigments smile upon me today - it has been a productive morning and I am in an overly good mood. I presume you mean Endovar's ship. Hmm, if in truth you have found it here, that would be quite a sensation. Tourists will flock to this beach from other worlds and ruin the ambiance. No matter, there is no shortage of beaches. I fear I cannot help you on the matter of archivists, engineers or historians though. I would recommend the capital."

    He looks thoughtfully at Vorpal. "I might be able to help with an aquatic species, come to think of it. Semi-aquatic, anyway. Jadin and Nos, in town. A brother and sister of some... I don't remember what they call their species, but they are as home in the sea as on land. Jadin is a sculptor of real merit, though Nos - I must warn you, do not allow him to read to you from his poetical works. You'll be there all day, and bored for most of it."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Wow, you're... pretty well-informed," Caitlin tells Enn with a note of surprise. "Yeah, exactly, that... The Beating Heart," she agrees. "Honest, we're not trying to take up anyone's time or make a mess. Maybe if we can find it fast, we can get what we need and be out of your hair before the day's done. We'll make sure to tell anyone that we found it a few hundred yards down the beach, okay?" she suggests, and ventures a smile at Enn.

Caitlin sighs with relief and turns to look at the water. Just... waiting for Donna to resurface. She pops her tongue a few times and swings a snap-click of fingers into her palm.

"Note to self, come up with aquatic-compatible communicator," she mutters to Terry. She looks to the brightly-colored Titan. "Unless you're one of those rare cats who likes to swim?" she inquires of him.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, I /love/ to swim. I just have this thing about breathing underwater. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to cut it." He peers at the water, and frowns. "... acquatic twins, you say? That takes me back..." he looks around the beach for a moment, and then muses "Alright... I'll go. I can use a Rabbit Hole to pop back up if I need to..."

He takes tentative steps to the waer, inwardly reading the fact that he's going to come out looking like... well, wet cat. "If I don't come out in five minutes, send a handsome merman after me. I'll be right back, Enn."

Shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his mismatched shoes, he heads towards the watery depths. Perhaps.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You really found it?" Enn asks curiously. "That would be a sight to see. Just think of the inspiration! Your discovery could engender a whole wave of new ideas. The figurativists would wish to render the tragic wreck in all its glories, while the abstracts would glean as much from the absence of the ship as the geometries of the ruin. Tales of Endovar will come back into fashion, of course, but the tale of the discovery will surely rank beside them! Whole new epic cycles will come of it. Songs will be composed. You must not leave without leaving your names. No, no my friends, do not hide its true location. I am grateful for your wish to spare my beach, but it would be a greater wrong to deprive the world of such a muse as you have uncovered."

     Vorpal hasn't got far into the water when the surface breaks ahead of him and Donna swims out. She seems momentarily surprised to find Vorpal coming in after her, but shrugs it off as she reaches where he stands, up to the waist in water. Fortunately it's not too cold. "It's about ten /orgyia/... uh sixty feet out, and forty down. Extensive damage. There's an open launch bay, I guess from the evacuation, but I could see through some windows that there are parts of the ship sealed off. The air probably isn't great down there, but we've got space suits. You could Rabbit Hole us inside from a photo, right? We could waterproof a camera."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin flashes a grin at Enn. His enthusiasm is a little infectious and a welcome respite from people who either see Endovar as an inconvenient truth or a myth not worth discussion.

"I could probably get some air scrubbers pulled together from the ship!" Caitlin calls over to Donna and Terry. "At least for purfication and separation-- but I'm gonna need a few hours if you need pressurized air and rebreather apparatus!" she calls.

"If you get down there and can't find an 02 readout, I can probably rig up an air sensor and barometer. It'll at least tell us if there's enough oxygen to breathe," she adds, a few seconds later.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal looks relieved at not having to go under. Following Donna backm he says "Yes, from a photo or video, definitely. Well, I've got my phone in my jacket. We don't need anything too fancy... turn the camera on, wrap it in a plastic bag and make sure it's air-tight and just go down there, tae the viddy through the windows an we shoul be made."

He glances at Enn, "New artist friend, you wouldn't happen to have a transparent bag of sorts we could employ to that purpose?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "The moon is rising," Enn calls out to Donna. "You should dry off before it turns cold. Alas the only towels I have are covered in paint." It's an odd thing to say - the twin worlds of Gombar have no moon, but the great blue arch of the twin planet is indeed showing over the horizon. It must be an extraordinary sight when in opposition - fully risen, the twin world would cover most of the sky. Mountains, large rivers and cities would on the other world would be clearly visible.

    Donna ignores Enn and nods to Caitlin. "Sounds like we have a plan. We could rig up a waterproof camera by putting a phone into one of those clear plastic food bags, then Vorp can portal us onto the bridge. We'll need to get those air scrubbers working because we don't have spare suits and we're going to want to find the ancestors of the navigators and bring a few down there to get into the nav logs."

    Vorpal is way ahead of Donna on the photography trick, and Enn gives him a nod before fishing amongst his things. He finds his lunch, a sandwich that looks distinctly homely and Earth-like, and hands the plastic wrapper to Vorpal. It smells distinctly of cheese.

    As he's doing this, Enn looks oddly at Caitlin, and sighs a little. "You're not... /scientists/, are you?" He says the word 'scientists' with a distinct sign of distate, as if discussing tax collectors or mercenaries. "Or engineers? Hmm. Offworlders and their ways! Such a shame. This is not an occupation that enlightens the soul."

    The pronouncement is enough to get Donna's attention on the alien artist, at last. "Aren't there a lot of scientists and engineers on Gombar?" she asks. "We were told that science was virtually your philosophy of life."

    Enn looks shocked. "Who told you such nonsense? Nothing could be further from the truth! Oh of course there are those who muddle by with engineering, such things are a necessary burden on a state that wishes to keep the power running and the sewage flowing, after all. It is not a job that is good for the soul, though. No, the truth is that there is little need of science in the seven worlds. We have what we need, and we live in a universe of limited scope. A scientist can deal only in tiny truths, whereas an artist can find vast truths wherever they are. The secret of Gombar's success is that we refuse to deny individual creativity its due. Creativity and art is what divides the truly sentient being from animals, and the greatest freedom is the freedom to express oneself. This need is what shapes our society. Any Gombar will freely admit that not all people have something worth hearing, but everyone has something they need to say. You will find no happier world than Gombar, thanks to this philosophy."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I'm worse. I'm a scientist /and/ an engineer," Caitlin informs Enn. "And a doctor. But if you ever run into a problem with your power plants going bad or encounter a weird genetic disease, I won't even ask for an apology before fixing either of 'em."

The phone's bagged up and Caitlin underhands it at Donna. "Terry, give me a portal back to the ship and I'll get some air scrubbers going," she requests of him. "I might be able to can some breathable air from the ship's life support systems. It won't be as efficient as a rebreather but we can at least maintain a breathable atmosphere in a couple of rooms."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Your wish is my command, Doctor Fairchild!" Vorpal snaps his fingers, summoning a Rabbit Hole for Caitlin. "I am afraid you are being a little narrow, friend Enn- thank you for the bag, incidentally. Caitlin is a woman of depth and wit, and Donna here comes from a civilization that was crafted by the goddesses themselves, heirs to science /and/ art. To limit oneself to one field is to..."

And here, he takes his head off with his hands. There is no blood flowing, no gash. What is remarkable is that he still speaks, "Lose your head!"

He flips his head back up and it lands on his neck, perfectly fitting the way it was before.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Enn bows low to Caitlin, an astonishing sight given his nearly spherical appearance. Apparently there are some sturdy legs somewhere under that amorphous blob of a frame. "I have offended you, and for this I tender my most sincere apologies," he tells her. "My comments were unthinking and ignorant. It was not my intention to demean you or your achievements, but rather to point out the simple truth that to express one's artistic nature is what it is to be human, if you will forgive the species generality." He peers curiously at the quartet. "Though perhaps you are indeed human. No matter. Friend scientist and engineer, I urge you to take up some field of artistic endeavor. Not as a criticism of your chosen profession, but simply in that it will complete you as a a person."

    Vorpal is next to receive a bow, though in this case it is not one of apology. "You, on the other hand, are clearly a performance artist, and one of considerable skill! I applaud your act. We have a theater in town, if you are interested.

    Donna takes the waterproofed phone and dives back down into the sea. In a matter of minutes she has returned with a somewhat blurry but usable photograph of the bridge of the Beating Heart, and the Titans have returned to their ship to work on air scrubbers and discuss their next moves, leaving Enn to his painting.

    Donna comes into the cargo bay where Vic and Cait are working on the air scrubbers, drying her hair vigorously with a towel. "That was weird," she says. "Lucan kept telling us that Gombar was a haven of the sciences, but Enn certainly didn't seem to agree. It doesn't seem promising in our hope to find this rumored clan of ancient navigational engineers. What do you think, hit the biggest city we can find?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's soldering something; she holds very still otherwise, eyes on her work, and lifts one hand with two fingers extending. "Two worlds. Two Gombars. I bet you twenty bucks that Enn's cousin Nee is passionate about non-moving radio recievers," she suggests.

It takes her a few seconds to finish up and then she adds the air scrubber to the growing pile of circulators. "We've got air scrubbers to prevent C02 poisoning. We've got plenty of pressurized air, enough to keep a small room oxygenated for a half-dozen people for a few hours. I don't think we can do much to open up other rooms though, and I'm gonna need to remote in over Vic's shoulder," she tells Donna. "I'll just be pulling too much breathing air otherwise."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh god. Twin mirror worlds?" Vorpal glances at Caitlin, please tell me it ain't so. We've run our way across the gamut of insanity... this is a rabbit hole I am not comfortable pursuing."

He scratches his chin and hmms, pondering Donna's question before he speaks up, "I think we should do a scan for largest city... can we also find a metric to measure technological level? For that matter... if the Heart is in Artsy Fartsy Gombar... do you really think we can find someone on /this/ planet to help us? The clan is probably..." he gestures with his thumb, over his shoulder, "In Egghead planet. So... should we hazard an away team there as well?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna nods her head at Caitlin's summary. "Sure sounds like the way things work on the seven worlds, doesn't it? Mirror worlds. Just the kind of thing that would happen in a place where everyone is borderline insane." She gives Caitlin a pleading look. "Are you /sure/ we can't just conquer everything and make them co-operate?"

    She doesn't even await an answer before sighing and shrugging her shoulders. "Okay, we hit the biggest city we can find on the /other/ world, and take our chances there. Vic, okay with you if the three of us go hunting navigators while you finish up here?"

    Vic signals his assent, and the three make their way down to the largest settlement on the other globe. It's not hard to locate - the planet they had been on before had many smaller settlements, but this one seems to have the vast bulk of the population in three urban areas, and one definitely stands out.

    As far as metrics of technology go, the simplest is what the Titans see when they Rabbit Hole down to the 'Egghead planet'. Other cities in the seven worlds have demonstrated a mixture of architectural styles - Caminask and Nim could almost have been 21st Century America. Echon had an architectural grandeur faintly reminiscent of old Europe. Gateway and Alfort had the feel of the frontier about them. The capital city of Egghead Gombar looks more like what the Titans would expect from an alien civilization - tall towers that defy terrestrial engineering limitations, automated walkways, hover cars. It would be inaccurate to describe it as Jetsons chic because everything is rather utilitarian, but this is clearly closer to the scientific paradise Trader Lucan had promised of his homeworld than Enn's homely village would offer.

    It doesn't take long for the Titans to hit paydirt - the first time they ask about the navigators, they are taken to a public data terminal and shown how to use it. As it turns out there is a guild, though one dedicated to a profession that hasn't existed for centuries. Judging by the web site, it's more of a social club than anything else - but there's an address, and opening hours. The globe of the other Gombar is high in the sky and it would be dark but for the plentiful street-lighting, but there's still a half hour before the Guild of Navigators closes for the night, and the three Titans quickly make their way to the building and find themselves in a comfortable reception room manned by a human receptionist.

    "Welcome to the Navigator's guild. How may I assist you?" he asks.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Hello, hi. Yes, hello." Caitlin's changed her clothing again, a hasty adjustment that echoes what looks like professional attire on NerdGomBar. Though the analogues aren't exactly one-for-one she's bundled her hair back in a neat bun in an attempt to look a little more put-together than usual. It takes her a little to calm her nerves.

"I'm Doctor Caitlin Fairchild, from... elsewhere. And these are my associates, Donna Troy and Terry O'neill." She gestures. "We're in the middle of a fairly time-sensitive research project and I need a meeting with the Navigator's Guild. Very, uh, urgently," she clarifies. "Preferably someone with some real-world experience in astrogation, stellar cartography, and deep-space telemetry."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal's power of illusion is serving him well, as his outfit now mimicks a version of Caitlin's getup, adding a certain touch of 'Starship Crew' to their motley gathering. He's even illusioned himself a pair of dark glasses to add an air of mystery. Arms clasped behind his back, and spine ramrod-straight, he is the very model of a modern major vulcan cat.

"Indeed. We would greatly appreciate the use of your most qualified members. Time is of the essence, and the challenge should be very attractive to your members."

Donna Troy has posed:
The receptionist holds a hand out to slow Caitlin down. "Ah, I suspect you have misunderstood the purpose of the guild," the receptionist tells her. "We are not in truth an active technical guild, rather we exist to represent the interests of our members. It's a cultural society rather than a technical one. The Navigators are the desendants of the families of the navigators of Endovar's ship who fled when it was destroyed. Though no doubt some members of the guild would have followed in the footsteps of their forebears and have expertise in the subjects you've raised, you should really apply to one of the technical guilds."

    The reception leans comfortably on his desk, and turns his smile to Vorpal. "It's a common misapprehension given the name of our organization, of course. I would be happy to provide you with a datapack with details of relevant guilds, we have one on hand for just this sort of thing."

    Donna has dressed neither as a Gilbert and Sullivan Trekky nor in the nerdGombar professional mode, but instead has stuck to her warrior look, even more out of place here than it is on Earth. Apparently diplomacy is not on the cards today, as like the barbarian she is, she cuts to the chase by flipping on her phone and holding it out to the receptionist. "Look. Use your eyes. We have found the Beating Heart. We need specialists from your guild, not general astro-navigation types."

    The receptionist looks sceptical and even starts to launch into a "Yes, people claim to have found the..." speech before the selection of pictures Donna scrolls through sink in. "This... that's... where did you get these pictures? Where is this. Endovar's beard... that looks real."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin puts a (relatively) (gentle) hand on Donna's pauldron to ease her back from the desk. "The Tech guilds would burn months arguing over which group and sub-domain has the proper authority to even turn the lights on," Caitlin tells the receptionist with a polite tone. "We needed some people a little more motivated to action and with, hmm. Sort of... enough clout to not mind bending a few regulatory hoops," she clarifies.

"So. I'm head engineer; our head mechanic is already on site," she tells the receptionist. "I need five to ten of the best and brightest you've got to come aboard, help us defrag the database, and possibly get the ship's core systems at least semi-operational, if possible. Anyone who I think is there just for the social credit is going to get booted out an airlock if I even *start* to think they can't depolarize a power coupling. So." She clasps her hands with a gentle report. "Best and brightest, not afraid of a little danger, and willing to put some real work in. Anyone else--" she thbbts and gestures a thumb over her shoulder. "Can you do that for us?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"It is real." Vorpal raises an eyebrow, which is seen over the rim of his dark glasses. "We have the means to get there and back." And at this, a Rabbit Hole appears to open behind him, showing the interior of the ship just beyond its threshold. It is, of course, an illusion, just for effect. "This is, as you can imagine, an opportunity to make history."

The Rabbit hole illusion snaps closed, and he nods at Caitlin's final words.

Donna Troy has posed:
    The receptionist nods his head at Caitlin, absorbing her words as she taps frantically at a keyboard. "I'm contacting the Guild President," he says. "This is extraordinary! People have been looking for the Beating Heart for generations. We'll have to determine whether this is the real deal before we can commit to anything, of course, but... Oh, the President is calling."

    He taps a button on his keyboard and looks up at his screen. "Explain," a terse voice speaks. "

    "Some people just came into the guild," The receptionist says to the screen. "With photographs that look really good. They appear to have some portal technology with direct access to the bridge. This is..."

    "Put them on," the terse voice responds. The receptionist nods and flips the screen around, revealing a purple-skinned humanoid. "I am President Kain Lar of the Guild of Navigators. I do hope you people are not wasting my time." His eyes flicker from side to side as he scans the faces of the trio on his monitor. "Show me," he demands.

    Donna holds the phone out again, flipping through a few of the photos of the Beating Heart's interior. "It looks like the real thing for sure," President Lar says. "But we've been looking all over the planet for the ship for generations and nobody turned up a thing. How did you find this, and where?"

    As he's speaking, the front door of the guild opens up and three assorted people enter, one human woman, a male Warzoon who just for a moment could have been mistaken for Lucan, and astonishingly a female Akiar. "Is it true?" The Warzoon asks. "Someone found the ship at last?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"We're good researchers and we're highly motivated," Caitlin suggests. She looks up when the two guild members arrive, and does a double-take at the Warzoon before realizing it's probably not Lucan joining them.

"It matches up with the coordinates we got, the architecture and design is correct, even the age looks right," Caitlin tells the two Guild members. "And we don't want to spend several months trying to fix it, either. It's going to take some effort to get it up and running. We're after the data core; we'll share whatever we find, and once we've got what we need, y'all are welcome to the ship and the claim for the find."

"Honest," Caitlin reassures them. "We're just trying to find our way home."

Donna Troy has posed:
The Human, Warzoon and Akiar gather around Donna, studying the pictures on her phone with fascination, pointing various details out to each other, discussing the pieces of equipment on the bridge they can make out and speculating between them which item serves which function in an abstruse technical language that tells of significant theoretical knowledge of the ship's systems accompanied by a distinct lack of practical experience with them.

    "What coordinates?" President Lar demands of Caitlin. "Where did you find this? You'll have to forgive my scepticism, but you are not the first people to turn up at the Guild claiming to have made such a discovery. The images you show are persuasive, but they could be computer simulated /artistry/ rather than factual information." The way he says the word 'artistry' is remarkably similar to the way Enn had said the word 'scientists'.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"It was on Gombar," Caitlin says, with the straightest face possible. "But hey, I understand. You're busy people, I'm sure. Doing your... Guild stuff. No time to chase after promising leads. We'll just leave, then," she says, and gestures for Terry to do his Rabbit Hole trick. "I'm sure there are other guilds on planet that'd jump at a chance to see the *actual* Beating Heart. So, thanks, good luck, etc."

The biggest power move in a negotiation is being ready to walk away, and Caitlin looks like she's prepared to do just that!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
And Vorpal is ready to provide. He gives the Akiar a quick glance, recognizing in him one of Kian's people. Could they learn more about Kian's world, and where it might be located, if this goes well? Vorpal can only hope. Wouldn't it be amazing if they came back to their friends with such news?

"Yes, Doctor Fairchild. Energizing."

And the rabbit hole appaears, in its dimension-defying splendor, right into the interior of the Beating Heart.

"After you," he gestures, ready to take part of the bluff.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Lar doesn't seem terribly impressed by Caitlin's threat - on the contrary he seems to find it annoying. "We are scientist, madam. Not treasure hunters. Of course we are interested, but if you were here to waste our time you wouldn't be the first. As you might imagine we have searched Gombar rather thoroughly - your reluctance to give detailed coupled with an outlandish claim like that hardly gives me faith in your account."

    He has so far paid little attention to the portal Vorpal had opened in the background, but the guild members present are more curious. The human and the warzoon peer closely at the portal, studying the scene with curiosity and muttering to themselves. The Akiar reacts a little differently - at first she studies the portal much like the other two, but after a few moments she blinks in surprise and starts to shift her head from side to side as she looks through the portal. After a few moments she takes a step to one side, then the other, noting the parallax of objects through the portal. After a few more moments she circles around it slowly. "It's holographic," she says to Vorpal, "But without any distance or angle based distortion in luminance levels that I can perceive. Fascinating. How is this achieved?"

"Oh for..." Donna starts, impatiently. She steps in front of Caitlin, glaring at the comm screen. "It's under the sea, about fifty feet from an island on the other planet. We didn't stop to ask the name of the island, or we'd tell you! But we will happily /take you there/ so you can see for yourself. What's the problem?"

    Lar tilts his head, curious though still impatient. "Your colleague said it was on Gombar. What other planet?"

    "That one!" Donna declares pointing up at the sky. "The other Gombar, the one in your sky right over there! That stupid, impossible, absurd ball of rock in the sky!"

    The room falls silent and four pairs of guildsmember eyes go to Donna. Lar sighs deeply, mutters "Offworlders!" and kills the connection.

    "This is all a joke to you then?" The Akiar demands angrily. The Warzoon glares, and the human shakes her head and makes for the door.

    Donna throws her hands out and looks to Caitlin in complete bafflement. "What... what did I say?"

    Back up in orbit, Vic listens in to the conversation as he performs the last few checks on the air cycling systems that have been Rabbit Holed onto the bridge of the Beating Heart and activates them, pumping the air through filtration and warming it up a little so that the old stale air on the ship will flood out of any rabbit holes opened to it, to be replaced by new, clean air. The interior of the guild reception is quickly filled with the damp, stale smell of the wreck. The human stops in the doorway and looks back, puzzled. The Warzoon and the Akiar stare at each other, shocked.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Y'know I used to feel really self-conscious about sticking my foot in my mouth all the time," Caitlin tells Donna. "Especially with you and Richard always taking point on the diplomatic stuff. The best part of this trip has been watching you absolutely blow it at least... like, at least half of the times so far."

She beams sunnily at the Amazon and heads into the portal without a backwards look. Terry gets given a side-glance, silently encouraging him to keep the entrance open until the curiousity of the Guild members gets the better of them. It's one thing to pout and complain about pictures but the immediacy of the scent of heavy old air and the subtle exchange of temperature through the portal might convince them to abandon their interrogation and grab their gear!

"Vic, keep an eye on the air levels; I'll head back to the ship if the scrubbers start to break down. Ready for the uplink?"

Victor Stone has posed:
"See, you all forget that I'm the one everybody likes," Vic says teasingly, bouncing off of Caitlin's comment about diplomacy. "I'm not just a technical genius; I'm also a pretty face."

Jokes aside, he busies himself with the devices that are neatly exchanging the wreck's air with something more palatable. "They're not gonna break down," he assures the group. "I'm working on them, remember?" He flashes a grin. "But that does mean I haven't had much time to mess with the data connection yet. Shouldn't take too long, though. Help me out?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal acknowledges Cait's unspoken instructions and he keeps the portal open. Instead of closing it, he takes one step through the portal, thus effectively keeping one foot inside the ship, and the other in the building. Hands clasped behind his back, he directs a calm glance at the Guild members.

"It's just a hologram," he says in a dry, flat tone that is the Vulcan approximation of humor, since it is decidedly no such thing.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "What did... I told him what he was wanted to know!" Donna objects to Caitlin. What was the problem? What did...?" she turns to look at the receptionist, but he averts his eyes, looking annoyed.

    The Akiar and Warzoon turn on Vorpal with questions, suddenly far more interested in the portal than what lies beyond. "It's a non-gravitational folded topology?" The Akiar asks him, certainly no longer believing the hologram theory. "Is it geodesically complete? A truly open topology? How is this possible... where are you getting the power to do this?" She shakes her head, stunned. "I didn't know there was that much energy generation capacity in the Seven Worlds.

    "Well why don't you /walk through it/ then?" Donna demands with frustrated impatience. "And go and actually stand on the bridge of the Beating Heart? It's /right there/."

    "But /where/ is there?" The human guildswoman demands. "You show us this..." she gestures towards the Rabbit Hole, "... but then mock us with those stupid offworld jokes about the 'other Gombar', like we haven't heard them a million times before."

    Donna raises a finger in an angry gesture, but no sooner as it appears as it disappears again. She takes a deep breath. "No," she says calmly. "No. I don't care. I don't care about whatever stupid experimental culture you have, what your idiot customs are. None of us care. We've had enough, we're going home. You're helping."

    There's a rush of air and a sudden yelp as the human Guildswoman finds Donna suddenly between her and the door. Another yelp when Donna picks her up, strides quickly over to the Rabbit Hole, and puts her down again on the far side. "Right. You are on the Beating Heart. Congratulations, one small step and all that. Anyone else joining us?"

     The Akiar and the Warzoon stare at each other with complete confusion and just a hint of fear.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"It's magic," Caitlin explains over her shoulder at the babbling interrogations. "Try not to think about it too much. You'll just give yourself a headache and get angry afterwards, trust me. Nothing about what Terry does make sense. But, we love him anyway," she says, and beams at the Jester.

"Okay Vic, I'm establishing the datalink now, narrow K-band emissions. Do you see the handshake yet?" she inquires. The systems are just comprehensible enough that Caitlin is able to at least initialize the broadcast.

"Once we're linked up we need to start pulling system data. We're looking for archival information, astrogation, and sensor logs," Caitlin tells the Navigators. "That's what I need your help with; it's all stored in the ships VI matrix and I can't exactly blip it to my friend via shortwave. Figure out what we need and how to send it efficiently. After that-- the ship's yours. Along with the career boost and instant fame."

Victor Stone has posed:
"Aww. If it makes you feel better, I'm curious about the Other Gombar thing," Vic says gamely, giving the Gombarites his most winning hall-of-fame grin. "Come on aboard and tell me all about it! It'll give me something to parallel process while I work on this data upload." Is he trying to catch more flies, or is he just finally feeling more his usual, friendly self? Maybe something was in the stale air and is now affecting his brain.

Regardless, he flashes a smile and answers Caitlin, "Sure thing, Cait. Connection established -- although it might take a while to get what we need with our limited bandwidth. I'll gladly accept all the prioritizing help local expertise can offer." He flashes another 100-watt smile at the Gombarites and gestures to his console invitingly.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Doctor Fairchild is right. I am magic. I am also a cat, which means I'm extremely impatient."

The Rabbit Hole expands. Just a little. "Which means that if you don't step right through, I'm just going to do it for you."

The Rabbit Hole shoots out, moving extremely fast in order to scoop up the remaining guild members and depositing them on the other side.

This includes the receptionist, because the Cheshire Cat has run out of effs to give at this point, "And I will reiterate my colleague's sentiments- I have no patience for whatever nonsense beliefs you have about there being no twin planet where everybody is your opposite or what'ver. Welcome to the Beating Heart."

The Rabbit Hole closes, once everybody has been scooped up, "And don't you try any of that Akiar telepathic touch," he adds to the Akiar, "I am not only resistant to it, I'm also extremely psychotropic to telepaths."

Donna Troy has posed:
"There is no other Gombar!" the Warzoon snaps at Vic - Donna's not the only one who finds diplomacy on this world rather hard going. "Will you people just cut it out? It wasn't funny the first time someone came up with it centuries ago. Why can't you just..."

    Just what will never be known, as his diatribe is interrupted by the expanding Rabbit Hole and the sudden arrival on the bridge of the Beating Heart. The Guildsmembers don't voice their objections to the portalnapping - they are too astonished to consider complaints.

    Donna gently pushes the human guildswoman towards the Beating Heart's Nav Station, where the main navcomp has been isolated from ship's systems, rigged up to portable generator and powered on, but remains frustratingly mute but for the stream of incomprehensible data being pulled from it into an archive. The Guildswoman takes a couple of stumbling steps forwards but barely reacts as she looks around her in awe. Primises of career boosts and instant fame will come to mind soon, but first the guildsmembers will have to come to terms with the fact that they just stepped foot into their own Camelot.

    The little Akiar woman is a little more with it than the others though. "The VI?" she says to Caitlin, in the hushed tones of one in the presence of holy relics. "For real?" She steps up to the nav console, her fingers raised above the controls, and halts there, looking down reverently. "They taught us all about the VI. All the codes and ciphers. Drilled into us, in school, until they were commited to our memories as securely as any databank. The legacy of our predecessors, of the original Navigators. I thought one day I would pass it on to my children, and they to theirs. I never thought that one day I would see it. That one day..." her words falter, as the enormity of what she was about to attempt sinks in, and she jerks her hands away as if seeing a snake coiled on the console. "Do we... is this right?" she asks.

    The receptionist takes a wide-eyed step forwards, and rests a hand on her arm. There is a few moments of silent telepathic communication, and the Akiar nods at him in agreement. "Yes. You're right." She nods in determination, and lets her fingers drop to the control. For a minute or two she taps away furiously, then steps back with a startled moan at her own success - a holographic projection of a bleached white skull, a three-dimensional skull and crossed-bones image, appears floating in the air above the navcomp.

    The VI's skull avatar turns slowly. A deep voice, distorted but faintly familiar, crackles noisily from damaged speaker circuits. "I do not see Endovar. My locational sensors are offline. Seventy-four percent of the ship is hermetically compromised. I appear to be on back-up power. I surmise that the ship has been fatally damaged. Should I initiate core-dump and self destruct?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Negative, override any self-destruct protocol," Caitlin says firmly. She doesn't look perturbed to see the floating hologram; it's just an image, after all. "Captain Endovar is missing and your power core is located too close to the ship's owner. Shutdown or destruction will counter your preservation and protection protocols."

It's... probably true? Endovar is *definitely* missing, and if anyone owns the ship, it's whomever's going to claim it by salvage right or inheritance...

"Shut down power to non-essential systems and seal off breached bulkheads. Keep life support and hull integrity prioritized." She's working pretty efficiently while talking, at least as best she can with the forieng equipment. Caitlin looks to the receptionist and prompts her to move to a console with a nod.

Caitlin focuses on the VI assistant. "Identify yourself and route systems memory access to the portside console. Do you have footage or recording of the moments leading up to your crash?"

Victor Stone has posed:
"Core dump yes, self-destruct no," Vic agrees. "Considering, y'know, we're aboard." He's still using the same pleasant tone; the Warzoon's snapping at him doesn't seem to have had an effect on his mood. He addresses him next, though, saying, "Buddy, I just got here, I didn't know there was even a dead horse to beat. But if it's not 'other Gombar,' what do you call the planet's orbiting twin?"

He lifts one arm and, with a flicking gesture, projects a recorded image from their approach to the twin planets. He pokes at it, and a spot lights up: sort of a bright 'you are here' sign. "That's our current location, so let me know what the proper terminology is and I'll be happy to use it."

After a second, he glances at the other Titans. "Is this territory we've already been over? I might have missed it." The people in this pocket universe do seem to love their blind spots.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh heavens," Vorpal muses. He lets Caitlin and Vic deal with the hologram, since it would be a bad idea for him to try to talk to an artificial intelligence with the capacity of blowing up the ship. "Do these people believe there's only one Gombar..."

He frowns.

He taps his chin. He looks left and right, and hmms. "What /if/ there's only one Gombar and the interstitial space between the two planets is some sort of cleaving of the universe, so that two alternate versions of the planet are actually orbiting each other, and they are unaware of each other?"

And then he smirks, "Or maybe this is yet another planet full of loons. What'dya think, Donna?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "There /is/ no orbiting twin!" the Warzoon fumes at Victor. "Do you think we're all idiots?"

    Donna nods her head towards Vorpal and nods in agreement. "There you go Vorp. Idiots, not loons. I mean why would we expect anything different from this lot? Everyone else here is idiots."

    The VI ponders in crackling silence for a while at the commands called out by Caitlin and Victor, then declares "Your voice patterns are not recognized. I must assume a security breach. I will flush storage and caches and initiate self destruct in ten... nine... eight..."

    "System override Oh-one-oh-one-alpha-seven!" the receptionist calls out urgently. "Recognition code beta-seven-eta-nine-four-six," adds the Warzoon.

    The VI stops counting down and the air is filled with an expectant hum. The four Guildpersons stare at each other for a long moment of mutual shock and mutual support. Then, in unison, like a religious chant, they all say "Crew security code: Reindeer Flotilla."

    The VI's power hum seems to grow louder, and the holographic skull bobs slighty. "Passcodes accepted. Disengaging secure protocols. Location data input accepted. Calibrating inertial systems. Routing memory access to secondary console."

    The Titan's interface system comes to light as the navigation download begins. Up in orbit on the Dreadnought's nav systems, a map slowly forms, the flightpath of the Beating Heart's last few weeks slowly overlaid on the flightpath data of the Koranian cruiser, the story of that ancient and epic battle drawn in vectors of motion through the peculiar space of the seven worlds. Lines converge to mark battles, diverge to mark flight and moments of recuperation. As the lines draw themselves backwards in time from that final conflict above the twin worlds of Gombar they skip here and there through the system. Slowly, one after another, the pattern shows the Beating Heart driven from outpost to outpost as the Koranians tracked them down to each of the twelve hideouts they had uncovered. Then to the earliest hours of that epic battle, when the two ships first met. Then beyond, until the trace of the Koranian vessel vanishes just past Gateway, marking when they had first arrived in the system, and the voyage of the Beating Heart goes on, visting world after world, asteroid base after asteroid base, until eventually a dim purple marker indicates the one location the Koranian cruiser had never found; Endovar's thirteenth asteroid base.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's busy extrapolating the astrogation data. Too busy to point out the clearly marked twin worlds of Gombar rotating around a common center of gravity. Or to agree with the general consensus from the Titans that Gombar's as full of myopic fools as the rest of the star system.

If there's a recurring theme here, it's a lot of people who can't see the woods for the trees, it seems.

"Vic, you getting this?" Caitlin inquires of her counterpart. "We'll need to run some numbers to chart a route for it but I think we've got our destination." The asteroid's highlighted and Caitlin sends the data to Vic's side of the connection. "Can you pull down any sensor data from this we could use to crosscheck on our own sensor systems?"

Victor Stone has posed:
Vic gives a little shrug toward Vorpal. "Not a bad guess. At least, it's in keeping with how completely screwed up space around here is," he says. "We were getting those anomalous readings from the point between the planets before we landed, remember?" He glances over at the others. "There could certainly be some kind of spatial fracturing going on. And that would explain the confusion."

He raises one eyebrow at the Warzoon and flashes a smile. "Although, if you're a scientist, and different people have been consistently telling you the same weird thing for a couple of centuries, you should maybe have investigated it yourself at some point." He delivers this with gentle amusement rather than pointed disdain.

Soon enough, though, he's distracted by the flight path finally coming into view. He flicks his own hologram off -- sure, what kind of idiots would pay attention to visible proof that was right in front of them? -- so that he can record what he's seeing and map out the newly discovered location. "You bet I am," he tells Caitlin with a smile. "There'll be some system drift, just based on the elapsed time, but we should be able to calculate the positions of various markers when the recording was made. Fiddly, but with lots of points of reference, we should be fine."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Idiots," Vorpal confirms, walking over to Donna. "I mean, we /are/ doing the right thing. I know our buddy at Gateway really wanted to convince us to stay and settle down in one of these worlds... but I must be honest with you. Even if there were not an existential threat about to destroy all the universe if we don't get back to our world," he says this with emphasis, for the benefit of listeners, "I think we still probably would have snapped and become an even greater terror upon the absolute insanity on these seven-that-are-six worlds."

He exhales and watches the team at work, and then says somewhat quieter "But we're on the way. I hope Gar can hold it together a little longer." Pause. "And Raven..."

His eyes widen, "Oh god... I just remembered. I charged Kian that, in the event of my death... he should give Raven..."

He slowly turns to face Donna "... a book of poems."

Donna Troy has posed:
    In the weeks since the Titans had arrived here, Donna had been absolutely steadfast in her conviction that they would find their way home, that they would not be here long. That the natives were dubious the white hole even existed and confident it was unfindable never seemed to shake her for a moment. Here, at the crux of it all, she finally begins to admit a nagging doubt to herself.

    This then is the moment of truth. The one path that the Titans had to follow, and they have reached the door at the end of the path, and have only to reach out and open it. If there should be nothing behind that door - then there is nowhere for the Titans to go.

    As Victor had surmised, the gravitic anomaly at the barycenter of Gombar and Gombar makes the first few datapoints virtually useless. However as Caitlin's analysis moves back in time over the motion vectors, the coordinates start to make sense. Two stops where the Beating Heart took on supplies, a known distance, vector of motion and time apart. An approximate date. It doesn't take long to determine the specifics. Point A is Caminask, point B is Nim. That's all that is needed - the rest falls into place.

    While the Dreadnought is severely damaged, it does have the kind of long-range sensors a flagship needs to manage a fleet over a vast battlespace. Victor works the systems, filtering for noise, trying to compensate as best he can for the insane gravitic curvature of the Seven Worlds and their thoroughly anomalous black hole. After a few tense moments, there's a match.

    There's nothing visual, just a long range LIDAR target, far from the planetary transport routes. A secret even from the crew of the Beating Heart, it's flight path frequently stopped some thousand kilometers from this point and waited, presumably while Endovar visited that base in his own private shuttle.

    A lone rock in an orbit distant from the seven worlds, a mere hundred or so feet across, one of millions orbiting the black hole. Endovar's secret thirteenth base.

    And hopefully, surely, the way home.

    Donna's shoulder slump slightly and she turns to Vorpal with an amused smile. "What? She likes poetry."