You don't take long to make your decision, because you know you don't have long to make it. Records might explain the situation you're in, and you can grab them now and go through them later. Scanning your route, then double checking it, you set off.
You've never been on a vessel like this before, and if you hadn't been told that it was a ship you'd genuinely think you were on the ground. All white stone and tastefully decorated metallic inlays, it looks like nothing so much as an enormous temple-complex.
One filled with the smell of smoke. You wrinkle your nose; whatever is burning, it can't be healthy to breathe in. You don't stop moving though, more than aware of your deadline.
The records room, conveniently labeled, is, rather less conveniently, locked. You eye it, size up your chances of shouldering it open, and are about to give it a shot when the sword in your hand shivers. A whisper reaches your ears, and you whip your head around, but find nothing but the hallway. Well… you glance down at the sword. Guess there's one way to find out if I'm just hallucinating it.
You take a step back, take the hilt in both hands, and swing at the door… and promptly stumble, as it seems to face no resistance at all. It went right through…? So I am just hallucinating– And then, with a creak of wood, the door falls off its hinges, cleanly severed where you sliced it. What.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the questions arising from your possession of an invisible sword that cuts through everything, you dart into the room. A careful slash takes the top off of a recording unit, and you snatch the crystals up, stuffing them in a pocket. At least I still have my jacket… stupid uniform skirt and its lack of pockets. Another glance around the room shows a projection crystal, so you grab that too; wouldn't do to grab data without a way to view it. And then off you go.
Down the corridors, left, right, right, left, jumping over a hole in the floor, turning the corner, and…
You shudder, because the last corridor you need to pass is filled with bodies. Three insectoid kr'tsa, clad in gleaming silvery armor… or what once was gleaming silver, because now it is stained with rust – wait, does truesteel even rust? – and coated in green and red blood. A dozen humans in uniform, pinned to the walls and floor by spikes of black crystal. And a giant scorch mark against one wall, burning an enormous humanoid silhouette, at least three meters tall, into it.
You glance around the hall nervously, but nothing is moving. And this corridor was labeled as damaged, but not boarded, on the map… maybe whatever did this is gone? You close your eyes, gathering your courage, and then go, rushing through the hall, avoiding the blood where you can.
The door to the crash-chamber hisses open automatically, and you sigh with relief. Okay, so this is the place where– a noise to your side catches your attention, and you spin, sword lashing out on instinct… where it is caught on a blade of white bone. Your heart stops when you see its wielder's face. Crimson skin, red horns with blue tips, amber eyes… she is your mirror image.
The universe hitches. The space between one moment and the next lengthens. The gears of linear time catch on the weight of the paradox.
Not a paradox, never was a paradox, paradox cannot be and thus never is.
One sword, held by two girls. One girl, in two places. This was never meant to be. This could not be.
It always was. It could never be anything different. What is, is.
That ever-present cosmic murder, which always has-been and has-never-yet-happened, continues on. One moment, infinite, outside the strictures of linear time yet still defined by their existence.
This is how it always was. It could be nothing else.
And then the universe blinks.
Action requires a before and an after and in the eternal now there can be no such thing.
There are two girls. There are two swords.
How can time be used to describe those who are not bound by it?
The gears of time resume, the eternal space-between-moments ending as quickly and eternally as it began.
The World-Heart deep beneath the surface of Thrisun pumps twice in the space of a single beat.
You gasp, sword falling from your hands, and embrace your twin with grateful tears. Words are spoken, but irrelevant, unneeded.
[ ] What are your names, as two clearly distinct individuals? Write-in.
A voice speaks.
"Crash-chambers activating. Impact in three." Your eyes widen, and you grab the impossible sword, lest it bounce and do something worse. "Two." Your twin does the same. "One."
There is a sound, a horrible shriek of screeching metal, roared by a choir ten thousand strong.
There is no jerk of impact.
"Warning… critical damage detec…ted. Main reactor offl…ine. Switching to… emergen… power… evacu… possible…" the crystal projecting the spirit's voice cracks audibly, and goes dark.
You exchange glances.
"I managed to get a scan done," she says quickly. "We're on some kind of city-world. Probably catacombs beneath. Looked like we were gonna hit someplace wealthy, at least if building size is to be trusted. Some kind of huge… tree root? reaching from outside sensor range onto the world's surface isn't that far away. Also uh… unidentified energy signatures nearby, closing in."
You take a deep breath. Okay. One more decision to make. Time to get off this wreck, before whoever is attacking it wins or whoever is defending it wins and puts you back in a box for reasons you still don't know.
The question is where.
[ ] Down through the bottom of the ship, you'll break into whatever catacombs or ruins are beneath. Ecumenopoli all have those, and while they're not safe they're supposed to be good places to hide.
[ ] Out the side, towards whatever high-end area you're in. Likely to be safer, though you may attract more attention.
[ ] Out the back, towards the… tree? Whatever it is, it's gotta be a major landmark.
