Welcome to Gaia! ::

There was no room for superfluous pomp and circumstance. The meeting with the Queen was on short notice, but Jet feared they were running even shorter on time. It was unfortunate that they hadn’t been able to contact her as soon as they returned. Instead, they scheduled a meeting later that night. It gave Jet and Aquamarine enough time to start drafting their official reports of the incident.

He knew he and Aquamarine would not be the only two giving the Queen their report, but he also felt like it was important to provide their accounts as earnestly as possible. To have the others there as well could shift the integrity of their recounting of the incident. Perhaps someone would recall information they did not.

Aquamarine was always on his best behavior around the Queen, affording her the respect she deserved, and for that Jet was grateful. He knew his partner wished they were both home instead, but they held their duties in the highest regard.

So they recounted what happened.

In a previous report submitted to the Queen after assisting Almadel with his museum, Jet had described the storms he’d seen in space, which at the time had been shared with Aquamarine through their linked earrings. He couldn’t help the strange feeling that this was somehow related to the current storm and the strange structure they’d experienced, and told the Queen as much.

They showed her the pictures they’d mysteriously received on their tablets, and shared the video Aquamarine had taken on Jet’s tablet, although the quality was poor and it seemed as though the audio had been damaged; various parts of the conversation were missing.

Aquamarine presented the spike for inspection, and explained how they’d come across it, as well as how they could only speculate that it was directly related to the spikes in the murals. And how the murals had depicted the serpent-like creature devouring worlds, being trapped, and then… potentially escaping once more.

“The White Moon is somehow involved,” Jet said quietly, as though he was ashamed that this could very well be the case. “While we were looking around, I saw something above us. The image of a white ceiling and a moving star map. I must have imagined it, because it only lasted for a few seconds and then this broke off from the ceiling,” he explained, holding out the charred circle he’d picked up when it landed at his feet.

“The traitor Kerberos said he recognized the description I provided as… the Celestial Theatre,” he said, glancing at Aquamarine to make sure he hadn’t heard differently. “Said it was in the Moon Palace. He’d been there before.”

And although he tried not to make it too obvious, Jet knew he probably looked miserable about not being able to present Kerberos’ head to the Queen. Especially if they needed to use the White Moon to help protect Earth.

Laurelite’s eyes were fierce, and even the soft corners of her smile seemed sharp. Everything about her expression and posture was perfectly preserved and entirely unreadable.

She had listened quietly. She had no need to ask questions while they provided their reports.

She looked at the pictures, watched the videos.

She’d held the spike in her hands and examined it with great reverence. Laurelite might have turned it over in her hands a dozen times, looking at each perfectly crafted side. More than once, she took the time to stare into the pseudo-galaxy imprisoned in the hilt.

She did not seem upset that Kerberos’ starseed was not among the trinkets recovered from their time in space. They had already brought her a great deal instead.

Only when offered Jet’s charred relic did she set the spike down, and while she held that in one hand she also extended her other hand for the energy Aquamarine had gathered. The droplets danced on his fingers, slowly pooling together to form a single golf-ball sized ball of energy.

They moved from his fingers to hers, and though she rolled it around in her palm for a moment, she handed it back. “That’s very pure energy. I don’t know if I’ve felt anything quite like it before. See if we can’t get that analyzed. Jet, the same about this.”

The metal was light but obviously sturdy, and strangely cool to the touch. It didn’t seem to warm up between his hand or hers.

“I want to know if we can identify what this is made of and where it came from. I’ll look into the pictures and see what I can find.”

She returned the broken world to Jet.

“I have heard of the Celestial Theatre but have been yet unable to sate my curiosity on the matter. You have an in with Kerberos. Use it, if you can,” she said, regardless of their discomfort or what might have been her own. “I’d rather you get the information from him than someone else try to. You two, I can trust. I know you won’t be swayed. But if they have access to other information, I want it.”

Aquamarine took the small ball of energy as it was returned to him. He did his best to keep his expression impassive, but he couldn’t control some of the tension around his eyes. The Queen hadn’t explicitly said to, but Aquamarine knew Jet would want to get started on their assignments right away, the late (or early) hour be damned. The earnest energy that always seemed to fuel Jet was already building, putting a manic gleam into his hazel eyes.

Convincing Jet to rest first was a chore Aquamarine had plenty of experience with, and one he never particularly enjoyed. He could never seem to get the idea through Jet’s head permanently that a few hours of down time wasn’t going to kill him.

Although, in this instance, they knew so little about what they were facing, maybe a bit of rest actually would lead to their demise. Who knew how long it would take that thing to reach Earth, if that was its objective. It could be weeks. It could be days. It could be hours.

Aquamarine struggled to hold back a weary sigh.

“I suppose it’s worth a try,” he agreed with Jet’s idea of approaching the alien Commodore. “Don’t know how they’d use anything against us when they’re so severely outnumbered. It’d be in their best interests to cooperate.”

The aliens interested Aquamarine only when they proved themselves useful. So far there wasn’t much to be impressed by, in his opinion, but for the time being it seemed better to have them in the Nevaverse’s debt than to give them reason to align themselves with the White Moon.

More than the aliens, and whatever they may or may not know, Aquamarine was intrigued by the breadth of the Queen’s knowledge. He sent the ball of energy back into subspace for safekeeping and eyed the Queen with growing curiosity.

“Can I ask how you’ve heard of the Theatre?” he said, politely inquisitive. Aquamarine had always assumed the Queen had a wealth of knowledge they may never be privy to, either gathered over the length of her career or bestowed upon her simply for being the Queen. With the opportunity presenting itself now, he couldn’t help but dig a little.

Absently, Jet had been rolling the charred piece of ceiling between his fingers, having taken it back from the Queen. He was attentive with curiosity when Aquamarine asked the Queen about her knowledge of the Theatre, although her answer made it seem as though she still knew more than she let on. Which was her right as Queen, of course. It just didn’t help Jet’s curiosity on the topic.

He was relieved that both Aquamarine and the Queen seemed agreeable about talking to the Velencian Commodore, although he stood up a bit straighter, a little flustered that the Commodore seemed impressed with his questions. He wasn’t looking to impress anyone. Well, except the Queen, of course.

The little circle suddenly slipped from his fingers upon hearing her following questions about their well-being. He winced with embarrassment as it rolled on the ground to Aquamarine’s feet.

“We didn’t think it was a priority, given the circumstances,” he quickly tried to explain, hoping the flush to his cheeks wasn’t too noticeable.

Sure, they were tired, but it wasn’t like they were in any kind of scuffle that would warrant things like stitches. Well, his hand ached, but if he didn’t think about it, it was fine.

But he balked at the thought of not giving the Queen a straight answer, so he sheepishly mumbled, “Yes, Your Majesty…”

Laurelite’s eyes followed the falling disc. Her smile was unchanging but she waited for Jet to pick it up before she spoke again.

“He’ll be there. If he isn’t, I’ll send him a summons. Just let me know if you need me to intervene. I think I’ll trust the two of you to decide how to conduct conversation with him,” she decided. “You haven’t let me down so far. I see no reason to suspect you’ll start now. Our priorities are Earth, but his are not. I don’t know how he might react if the planet was in danger. He’s certainly been dragging his feet to be here. Still, I suspect he is unlikely to abandon us completely in a time of need.”

She masked it well, but there was something faintly smug, hidden within the sweetness of her voice. “Use your best judgment with him. Share what is relevant. Whatever is necessary to get the most out of him. You have my permission to operate at your own discretion. I have the utmost faith in you. And as such,” her eyes returned to Jet. “Your well-being is a priority, regardless of circumstances. You will let me know the results of your check-up tomorrow, I want to make sure you don’t have anything we need to keep an eye on. So go, get that done so you can get some rest. I’ll look forward to those follow up reports.”