No Rest For the Damned, August 29th, 2203

[terrycloth]

It's easy. It's so easy to let the rats have their head, let them breed and scavenge and colonize the air whale without our interference. Let them watch the space otters and random other denizens go about their business with uncomprehending eyes, and listen without hearing their conversations.

But somehow, we comprehend, and think, and feel responsibility for the people that we brought to this hell of pink flesh and unrelenting light. Perhaps over the years we've become so invested in our remotes that they truly are a part of us, and now we live on as a new kind of less insane rat-king? Or perhaps we were not killed when Win failed to retrieve our brain-boxes from Engineering in time to avoid having them caught in the singularity's explosion, and one of the redundant control runs survived the wreck of the ship, and still links us to them.

The rat king explanation is more romantic. We will use that as our working hypothesis until it's proven false.

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Era: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Black Griffon: 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23
Gentle Rain: 24 | 25 | 26 | 27
Era: 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36
Familiar, Chapter 37

Previous stories in this universe are Space Otters:
http://terrycloth.livejournal.com/540642.html

and Glow Bugs:
http://terrycloth.livejournal.com/581586.html

Dramatis Personae:
http://terrycloth.livejournal.com/576866.html