A sailor was swept out to sea / no offering was made you see / Through wind and storm and hail and rain / his prayer too late, it was in vain.

- “The Apostatical Sailor”, Velumarian Sailing Song, 279 GA.

Mercury ascended the incline back into its white quartz vessel. It was eager to get this over with quickly; the sooner it acquired the Crystalline Heart, the less likely complications were to arise. Tintin flashed happily to itself around Mercury’s base columns, relaying data its sensors were collecting such as current temperature, humidity, air pressure, and armed life-forms within the vicinity.

Mercury checked behind it to make sure the human designated Battus was following.

“So. Business or pleasure? What brings you to Illudia?” Battus vibrated towards Mercury, causing it to wince. It attempted to follow along with the AR unit’s visual translation despite the unpleasant frequencies running through its structure.

“Confidential. Please do not inquire further. In fact… please do not speak at all,” Mercury’s flashes translated into insufferable vibrations.

In response, Battus held up his uppermost limbs and tilted his cranial region towards the ground, a gesture the translator indicated meant either he intended to show he was unarmed, or was a display of submission. Mercury elected to believe this was a deferral to authority. Battus did not vibrate further while Mercury prepared the Shard for takeoff, each of them assuming a spot on a pedestal within the sleek white cockpit. Perhaps this expedition would be swift and tolerable after all.

Mercury calibrated the vessel’s sleek internal life-support system to suit Battus’ physiological needs while the Shard exited the planetary port, leaving through a tall crystalline structure that the Silicarite had failed to notice upon atmospheric entry.

“Remind me to pay attention to the local construction techniques during future planetside reconnaissance,” it refracted to Tintin, “this would have been an excellent opportunity to find another place to dock.”

Tintin flashed an affirmative in response, before approaching Battus and scanning him. Battus reached down, running the end of his limbs over Tintin’s exterior, his vibrations becoming even more harsh as he expressed some sort of delight in handling the unit.

“Who’s a good boy! Who’s a good little robot! What's your name, little guy!” Battus vibrated in a slightly different frequency, higher than before. Tintin’s rear antenna attempted to recalibrate from the signal disruption, oscillating from one side to the other rapidly.

“Please do not touch the MAR-U. I do not believe the credentials you listed included ‘robotics maintenance expert’,” the translator’s delayed response in his native language seemed to cause some sort of negative emotion in Battus, relayed in his facial configuration before he retreated back in his copilot’s pedestal.

“...but, its designation is Tintin,” Mercury refracted, a hint of a twinkle in its light. This elicited an immediate response in Battus, baring his facial bones. Mercury flinched, assuming from past experiences that this was a sign of aggression, but calmed itself after being assured by the AR unit that in this species, this indicated a positive state.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“You two travel together a lot, then?” Battus inquired.

“...we have ventured to many sectors, yes. I would not be here if it were not for this particular unit.” Mercury held out its upper limb, its digit structures extending towards Tintin; in turn, the MAR-U approached and touched its upper communication structures to Mercury’s, synchronizing its collected data to the AR unit.

“Its surveying equipment and variety of field tools are very useful while exploring unfamiliar star systems,” Mercury refracted to Battus, the carbon-based biped moving his cranial structure up and down. This was a gesture that Mercury knew meant an affirmative, even before the translator indicated so.

As the ship’s autopilot accelerated and held the Shard at a cruising speed in the upper atmosphere, Battus seemed to collect himself and moved towards the simulacrum of the planet’s surface, pointing towards the lit up coordinates. He seemed to be eager to get to the task at hand, and Mercury was well-inclined to do the same.

“This is smack dab in the middle of the Velumarian. There's nothing out here for miles.”

“I assure you, this location has exactly what I am here for.”

“If you [TRANSLATION ERROR: MISSING EQUIVALENT VOCABULARY. USING CLOSEST TRANSLATION] communicate so.”

“I communicate precisely what I intend to.”

Battus tilted his cranial structure at a diagonal slant and pressed his front orifice flaps together tightly, a gesture that the translator indicated was confusion. Mercury extrapolated that this translation error must've led to some sort of miscommunication, but there did not seem to be any need to expound upon the issue further. Battus turned back to the globe, and indicated it by circling it with his upper limb.

“The only thing you’re gonna find out here is open ocean, so unless what you’re looking for is underwater, it’s gonna be a rough time.”

“I trust that we will find what I am looking for.”

“If you [TRANSLATION ERROR] communicate so.”

Before Mercury had a chance to formulate a response, an enormous force knocked the Shard out of its flight path. The sudden shift in momentum caused Mercury and Battus to stumble, and Tintin to tumble haplessly across the vessel’s interior. They all collected themselves, red alarm lights blaring silently.

“What the hell was that??” Battus vibrated intensely, but Mercury was too focused on the pilot’s panel to even care about the resonances he created.

“Shields offline. Major impact detected- left engine disabled. Losing altitude,” Mercury quickly shifted in front of the pilot’s instruments of the ship, taking the vessel’s flight into its own control. It attempted to regain a stable upward flightpath, but the best it could do was prevent the Shard from entering a tailspin. The ship dove into a churning stormcloud, and headed straight down towards the planet, directly towards the ocean.

“Manual flight ineffective, vessel’s manual controls disabled. Brace for imminent water impact,” Mercury flashed, Battus responding by gripping the pedestal tighter. The waved surface of the sea approached the cockpit’s forward view, only a few hundred units away from the imminent collision. Mercury held tightly onto the controls, attempting one last maneuver to negate as much downward momentum as possible, pulling up. The change from vertical to horizontal velocity caused the pearlescent crystal ship to skip across the water; much the same as a flung flat mineral formation would skip across a liquid plane using surface tension. The ship shuddered, then split apart- the entire back half torn asunder by the violent forces. The sudden pressure change ripped everything from inside the pod into the tumultuous waters; first anything not tied down, then Tintin, then Battus- and finally, Mercury. The last thing Mercury perceived was the wreckage of its ship that had carried it across the stars, then, inky darkness.