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The sun rarely, truly sets on Opealon. The proximity of its moon technically creates a binary planet system between the immense, oceanic paradise and the barren counterpart. Rotational and gravitational forces keep most of the world warm, and when one side of the planet finally turns away from the central star of the Crossroads, the night is balmy and pleasant. It was only fitting that, in the aftermath of Nausicaa's destruction, a rare twilight would fall upon the City of Hope.
Kopaka contemplated the providence of these happenings. Did Darkseid have a flair for the dramatic, or was the confluent nature of this evening mere happenstance? He gazed down at the rolling waves far below the flying city. Winking and bobbing lights from salvage and volunteer rescue vessels still swarmed the area where the skymote had sank. This edge of the city had been gated off by the city's police brigades, and construction crews worked under the pale brilliance of towering spotlights. The twisted metal wound that had once formed a bridge between the main metropolitan district and the suburb was crawling with scrap and maintenance drones as well, but it would probably still be a year before the boulevards and perimeter walls had been reconstructed.
The skylanders are eager to pretend like this never happened. They won't rest until the memories of their negligence have been paved over. Kopaka thought. He crossed his arms - the gleaming white metal still stained with black grime - and stared up at the sky-encompassing moon. In spite of his characteristic emotional control, the Toa breathed out a soft sigh. He had indulged in enough pondering for now. Despite it all, outside perspectives would be required and, if nothing else, he owed Arthur Morgan a visit.
Luckily, they had arranged to meet at the starship belonging to General Ezrihel von Althaus for what the cowboy had referred to as a 'much-needed nightcap'. Kopaka had inferred that this would be an alcohol-centric social ritual shared between the Andromedan and Human cultures. The biomech idly lamented that he lacked any cultural memories from his own past for comparison.
More self pity. Perhaps today's failures have worn on me more than I thought. he chided himself as he strode to the City of Hope's spaceport district. He ran a cold hand across his chestplate, feeling the ragged metal gash that was still ripped open. The flesh beneath his chassis had been repaired sufficiently by the masked physician, but it would take much more time for his protodermis armor to repair itself. Perhaps General Althaus would have facilities aboard their vessel to mend his mechanical externalities.
The Phantom Blossom was not hard to find amidst the other looming silhouettes parked on the heavy-duty tarmac. It was easily one of the most sophisticated, sleek spacecraft languishing under the moonwashed horizon. The garish skyscrapers of Hope, radiant with chromatic LEDS, complimented the luxury ship as backdrop. Kopaka approached the aft of the Phantom, where the boarding ramp had been lowered in anticipation of her guests. A stalwart guard of some sort stood watch next to the ramp - another Andromedan by Kopaka's assumption - who gave the biomech an eager appraisal at his approach.
"You must be Kopaka, then. The High Inquisitor and Mister Morgan are already on board. Please." the masked guard said, gesturing towards the ship's gleaming innards. The Toa responded to the sentry with the slightest of nods, and marched up the ramp with heavy, metal footfalls.
The interior of the Phantom Blossom was surprisingly austere compared to her limousine-patterned superstructure. Offwhite banks of machinery and computer bays lined an ergonomically shaped common area lit with pale, turqouise lamps. A sort of open-floor den was recessed into the central bay of the main foyer, which was furnished by smooth couches the color of damp slate. Kopaka's presence, as usual, caused the previously buzzing small talk to pause. A few other members of Ezrihel's retinue lounged here and there; some wounded, some dressed for action. One or two of these crew members eyed him hungrily; he could only assume they were technicians eager to analyze him. General Althaus and Arthur were seated at either end of a floating glass table with two crystal tumblers and a bottle of strong drink arrayed in front of them.
"General Althaus. Thank you for your invitation." Kopaka buzzed in a noticeably humorless drone.
"Pakker!" Arthur hooted out. He wobbled to his feet, using Ezrihel's shoulder for balance.
"C'mere you tin-tailed sumbitch! W'made it, ha!" the cowboy croaked. He vaulted up onto the main deck of the common area to slap Kopaka heartily on his armored shoulder. The warm meat of his hand slapped loudly and flatly in the otherwise quiet recreation bay. General Althaus raised a fresh glass in toast to the biomech's arrival.
"Glad we can finally make a proper introduction, Kopaka. I have to say, your paint scheme goes quite well with my ship's decor." Ezrihel said. Their voice had a playful lilt to it. Kopaka recognized that it was a carefully composed ribbing, no doubt an opening line the General had been working on for some time. It was a savvy attempt at sounding the depths of the Toa's alleged sentience and general demeanor. Kopaka had no doubt that the Andromedan was a skilled diplomat, just from these few words.
Unfortunately, the bionicle was stubborn and was in no mood for transparency. He remained standing, even as the cowpoke slithered back to his drink. The Toa remained deliberately silent, and carefully watched the Inquisitor's expression suppress the emotion of mild offense. Arthur, at least, knew when Kopaka was being intentionally opaque.
"Don't mind his quiet routine. 'Paka's a man of few words." Arthur reassured the General as he helped himself to another glass of this...weird alien hooch the General had set out. Ezrihel had warned Arthur that their liquor was stronger than the swill normally enjoyed by humans - sufficiently strong to pierce the resilient Andromedan metabolism. Being that he was getting a bit far gone with only two drinks in him, Arthur was beginning to admit that he ought have taken the blonde at their word.
At length, Kopaka finally crossed down into the lounging pit and eased his steel bulk into the squeaking cushions.
"I am...glad...to see you two again." Kopaka started, taking in a noticeably deep breath, "...but this is not entirely a matter of pleasure. Is it, General?"
Kopaka contemplated the providence of these happenings. Did Darkseid have a flair for the dramatic, or was the confluent nature of this evening mere happenstance? He gazed down at the rolling waves far below the flying city. Winking and bobbing lights from salvage and volunteer rescue vessels still swarmed the area where the skymote had sank. This edge of the city had been gated off by the city's police brigades, and construction crews worked under the pale brilliance of towering spotlights. The twisted metal wound that had once formed a bridge between the main metropolitan district and the suburb was crawling with scrap and maintenance drones as well, but it would probably still be a year before the boulevards and perimeter walls had been reconstructed.
The skylanders are eager to pretend like this never happened. They won't rest until the memories of their negligence have been paved over. Kopaka thought. He crossed his arms - the gleaming white metal still stained with black grime - and stared up at the sky-encompassing moon. In spite of his characteristic emotional control, the Toa breathed out a soft sigh. He had indulged in enough pondering for now. Despite it all, outside perspectives would be required and, if nothing else, he owed Arthur Morgan a visit.
Luckily, they had arranged to meet at the starship belonging to General Ezrihel von Althaus for what the cowboy had referred to as a 'much-needed nightcap'. Kopaka had inferred that this would be an alcohol-centric social ritual shared between the Andromedan and Human cultures. The biomech idly lamented that he lacked any cultural memories from his own past for comparison.
More self pity. Perhaps today's failures have worn on me more than I thought. he chided himself as he strode to the City of Hope's spaceport district. He ran a cold hand across his chestplate, feeling the ragged metal gash that was still ripped open. The flesh beneath his chassis had been repaired sufficiently by the masked physician, but it would take much more time for his protodermis armor to repair itself. Perhaps General Althaus would have facilities aboard their vessel to mend his mechanical externalities.
The Phantom Blossom was not hard to find amidst the other looming silhouettes parked on the heavy-duty tarmac. It was easily one of the most sophisticated, sleek spacecraft languishing under the moonwashed horizon. The garish skyscrapers of Hope, radiant with chromatic LEDS, complimented the luxury ship as backdrop. Kopaka approached the aft of the Phantom, where the boarding ramp had been lowered in anticipation of her guests. A stalwart guard of some sort stood watch next to the ramp - another Andromedan by Kopaka's assumption - who gave the biomech an eager appraisal at his approach.
"You must be Kopaka, then. The High Inquisitor and Mister Morgan are already on board. Please." the masked guard said, gesturing towards the ship's gleaming innards. The Toa responded to the sentry with the slightest of nods, and marched up the ramp with heavy, metal footfalls.
The interior of the Phantom Blossom was surprisingly austere compared to her limousine-patterned superstructure. Offwhite banks of machinery and computer bays lined an ergonomically shaped common area lit with pale, turqouise lamps. A sort of open-floor den was recessed into the central bay of the main foyer, which was furnished by smooth couches the color of damp slate. Kopaka's presence, as usual, caused the previously buzzing small talk to pause. A few other members of Ezrihel's retinue lounged here and there; some wounded, some dressed for action. One or two of these crew members eyed him hungrily; he could only assume they were technicians eager to analyze him. General Althaus and Arthur were seated at either end of a floating glass table with two crystal tumblers and a bottle of strong drink arrayed in front of them.
"General Althaus. Thank you for your invitation." Kopaka buzzed in a noticeably humorless drone.
"Pakker!" Arthur hooted out. He wobbled to his feet, using Ezrihel's shoulder for balance.
"C'mere you tin-tailed sumbitch! W'made it, ha!" the cowboy croaked. He vaulted up onto the main deck of the common area to slap Kopaka heartily on his armored shoulder. The warm meat of his hand slapped loudly and flatly in the otherwise quiet recreation bay. General Althaus raised a fresh glass in toast to the biomech's arrival.
"Glad we can finally make a proper introduction, Kopaka. I have to say, your paint scheme goes quite well with my ship's decor." Ezrihel said. Their voice had a playful lilt to it. Kopaka recognized that it was a carefully composed ribbing, no doubt an opening line the General had been working on for some time. It was a savvy attempt at sounding the depths of the Toa's alleged sentience and general demeanor. Kopaka had no doubt that the Andromedan was a skilled diplomat, just from these few words.
Unfortunately, the bionicle was stubborn and was in no mood for transparency. He remained standing, even as the cowpoke slithered back to his drink. The Toa remained deliberately silent, and carefully watched the Inquisitor's expression suppress the emotion of mild offense. Arthur, at least, knew when Kopaka was being intentionally opaque.
"Don't mind his quiet routine. 'Paka's a man of few words." Arthur reassured the General as he helped himself to another glass of this...weird alien hooch the General had set out. Ezrihel had warned Arthur that their liquor was stronger than the swill normally enjoyed by humans - sufficiently strong to pierce the resilient Andromedan metabolism. Being that he was getting a bit far gone with only two drinks in him, Arthur was beginning to admit that he ought have taken the blonde at their word.
At length, Kopaka finally crossed down into the lounging pit and eased his steel bulk into the squeaking cushions.
"I am...glad...to see you two again." Kopaka started, taking in a noticeably deep breath, "...but this is not entirely a matter of pleasure. Is it, General?"