Andrew had to pee, and not the he drank some water a few minutes ago type of pee. It was more like he had to pee an hour before a long movie but decided to ignore it and instead got an extra-large soda and got a grande coffee before visiting Niagara falls, kind of situation. As a magical toilet didn’t seem to grow out of the side of his crate, he decided it was time to explore the ship.

First things first, he tried connecting with his crate, yet right before his mind connected the purple line fizzled out with an audible pop. Intrigued and a little concerned he might be trapped in this crate, he tried again. His second attempt ended in the same manner and his panic started. Images of having to live in his own filth danced horrifically through his head. Driven by those thoughts he tried a third time, hoping it might be the charm and when the top opened, he let out small sigh.

While dark, the cargo hold was not completely pitch black as it was mildly illuminated by small running lights which dimly lit the pathways. They reminded him of pathway lights in a movie theater, though each slightly flickered in a way that made him wonder if they contained a tiny flame or if the magic in the crates might be affecting the lighting in some way.

To his left he could see a brighter light spilling over a set of crates which were luckily blocking any view the three dwarves, he could hear joyfully talking in the same direction, might have.

As he scanned for additional threats he was awed, by the scale as well and the precision of the craftsmanship of the room he was in. Though, awe would have been too small of a word for what he was feeling. The cargo hold was not slightly larger than the one on the elven vessel, but instead of grown it was clearly exquisitely crafted. At first glance, he had thought that the room was somehow made from one giant sheet of some brass like material, but when he looked closer, he could see screws so perfectly sized that only the drive recesses of each could be seen. As he looked further, he could see from the pattern of the screws that the room was instead made of 100 square meter panels which were so exactly sized that he could not see the seams. Large intricate carvings adorned the walls, to Andrew’s imagination they appeared like what he would guess space Vikings might have carved for their star maps. There were a countless myriad of pipes adorning the walls, all beautifully carved to accentuate the carvings. Closer to what he assumed was the front of the ship there was he could best describe as an overly large sheet unceremoniously hanging over what appeared to be an intricate embossing on the right side of the room. It covered it too much for him to really see it from this angle, but it made him curious about what was behind it. Was it a mark of whoever originally owned this ship before these pirates took it? Andrew wasn’t sure, but what he was sure of was eventually he planned to investigate it. Today though he had to find a bathroom and he had to find it fast.

From his current vantage point the room was crammed with elven crates, the stacked automatons and three giant brass, steel, and wood robots. The smallest looking like it couldn’t be taller than 16 or so meters tall. What it lacked in height though it appeared to make up for in speed. All of its surfaces were polished and sleek. Giving it the appearance as if it was ready to run even though it was sitting in a fetal ball.

The one whose foot Andrew had seen through the grate on his crate was the middle of the pack in size and had the appearance of a skirmish fighter. At least that’s the best description that stuck in Andrew’s head. It was decently armored compared to its smaller brethren, but not nearly as much as its larger sibling. He could clearly see that there was runic writing on both feet and almost as soon as he noticed it a slightly high pitched unisex voice spoke to him in his mind. Causing him to almost fall over as it was not that of Ziggy. .

[Andrew due to your limited eyesight, the translation I gave you was incorrect.]

Who’s talking? That doesn’t sound like Ziggy and there’s no notification either. Is that you bob?

[ Of course it’s me. Who else could it be? Why do I always get stuck with the dumb ones?]

I guess nobody, just making sure I didn’t go crazy.

[ Well I would go that far, but have no fear it is I the Amazing Bob your friendly control worm. Hmmm I really messed that opportunity up didn’t I. I could have made you believe I was a god or something even more powerful.]

What’s more powerful than god?

[Not your society’s weird belief about omnipotent sky wizards, but like the god you met, Biaobel, who in many ways is actually scarier than your sky wizard as he has my kin to control all of his mortals and has no fear of repercussions.]

So, what’s more powerful than him?

[Nothing that I know of. Fair point, I should have acted as one of your omnipotent sky wizard things.]

I’m not a big believer in the sky wizards, so that would have just convinced me I’d gone crazy. So how can you talk to me now? When you couldn’t before?

[Ziggy and I have been able to umm integrate better. If you catch my meaning.]

[Mr. Lather we have not been doing whatever Bob is insinuating. As you well know I have no ability to be sexual in any way. It appears that while parts of my systems work better in a high magic zones, other parts work more efficiently in a high-tech zones. This has allowed me to provide a better interface for Bob and I to interact. The primary result of which is that Bob may now directly utilize my connections to the speech centers in your brain.

[Awwww it’s too embarrassed to…..]

[Mr. Lather, while Bob is better integrated it does not mean I cannot mute it when necessary.]

That’s a relief. This won’t give it the ability to control me, will it?

[Negative Mr. Lather, while I no longer have to respond for it, it still has to interface with you through me. More precisely, what changed allowed communication speeds between Bob and I to quintuple. Which allowed us to be able to utilize some of that enhanced bandwidth for direct communications.]

So, Bob, what were you saying about the translation before we got off on this tangent?

[Sorry Mr. Lather, until it stops trying to give you untruthful and undignified descriptions of our connection, I have kept Bob muted.]

[Fine! What I was saying before I was so rudely censored was that because of your limited vision, my initial take on the inscription on the steamhammer’s foot was incorrect. It has nothing to do with addiction counseling as you might have previously believed. Well, I mean I guess it could solve an enemy’s addiction issue pretty abruptly, but again I digress. While the left foot does indeed say “one step at a time”, the right foot bears the runes for “Crushing it”. Which fundamentally changes the saying doesn’t it?]

Crushing it, one step at a time? I bet it does. Seriously, these steamhammers, right?

[Yes] [Yes]

Yall are so cute. These steamhammers are the coolest things I think I have ever seen.

[Wait, these mechanical monstrosities are the coolest things you’ve ever seen? Not living ships? Not the tree that reaches to space and grows or consumes anything its creators need? Not Magic so powerful it blew us into subatomic particles and then reconstituted us back to living state from those subatomic particles?]

Yes, Bob, I stand by my statement. Yes, whale shaped ships with eye beams are cool and a tree that reaches space and makes everything one might is amazing, but just not steam powered mech cool. And yes, that moment we were annihilated, and that magic was definitely awe inspiring and terrifying. Immensely more than these steamhammers, but my inner geek can’t get over how beautiful, immensely well crafted, and cool these steamhammers are! I mean can you imagine piloting one? It would be like playing a mech game from a steampunk aficionado’s wet dream. The additional whirs, hisses, whistles, and smoke that I imagine they make alone, would make my inner geek squee.

[I’m starting to see why your race is universally hunted across both galaxies]

Andrew didn’t respond as in this moment his brain concluded that a giant piece of brass that he had initially dismissed as an alter or an unknown piece of the ship as actually a giant Warhammer.

Wait, is that a giant Warhammer? The head of that thing is the size of a small SUV!

[Yes, though to be clear not all steamhammers wield hammers. It is a very traditional weapon across dwarven society and likely the most common weapon wielded by even modern day steamhammers. For clarity though that is not why they are called steamhammers exactly. The name came from their origins as mining vehicles. Based on this size this hammer likely belongs to the largest of the steamhammers.]

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Do they not have guns?

[They have those poison belching lead throwing devices. As well as some that project a stream of burning fuel and even a few that project small bolts of lightning.]

[From the records Bob has given me access to no, Mr. Lather, they do not have guns as you think of guns. They do have black powder firearms. Many of their designs seem highly impractical, take for example the most advanced firearm I have records on, the Stormreaver. It’s a self-loading revolver-style cannon designed for use by artillery Steamhammers. While impractical in the fact that it features none of the advances humans have made in firearms since the mid-19th century, it does boast a 60ft barrel with a 30-inch bore. The cylinder alone weighs 210tons and has a cylinder that carries 8 bullet style projectiles, each of which are 4ft long and propelled by 6ft of a highly efficient black powder. The advanced metallurgy needed to contain the forces created is a paradox to the fact that they haven’t created smokeless powered or automation.]

They don’t have machine guns?

[From the data Bob has shared, it would seem to date they have not developed them nor semi-automatics. Though there are a few lever guns which have been recently invented. I suspect this might be from human interactions.]

It seems wrong and highly unlikely to me that they have figured out how to move faster than light, yet haven’t created combat technology that surpasses human gun tech from the 1850?

[Dwarves aren’t the brightest or they’d have figured out magic long ago.]

[Bob’s assertion is logically flawed in that it appears the Dwarves have merely evolved down a different technological track that humans or elves. As for giving the Dwarves technological advancements, I would advise waiting to see if dwarves are the moral side in this conflict before you try to help them advance their warfare technology.]

That is a great point Ziggy. All that can wait, I need to find a bathroom and if the sounds coming from my gut are any indication I better not wait. Yall have any suggestions?

[The design of this ship is nothing I have in my databanks. I am assuming we are in the rear of the ship due to those cargo doors. This of course is faulty logic as there are many designs of ships that have cargo doors pointing forward. If my assumption is correct, I’d try to move towards the front of the ship to look for one.]

[My only suggestion is don’t poop yourself. They’ll definitely detect that.]

Thanks Bob, I’m trying not to.

Andrew slowly crept along trying his best to avoid detection. So slow in fact that after an antagonizing ten mins Andrew had barely made it more than a few decameters from his crate. He only gave up some of his caution and climbed up on top of a nearby stack of crates, when his gut launched its formal complaint about his lack of progress, in the form of a stabbing pain in his lower abdominal region.

To his dismay he found that other than the cargo doors behind him, which he assumed led out to vast nothingness of space, there were only two other doors that he could see. They were located on an elevated walkway each on their own side of the room, both leading to hallways which appeared to run parallel to the hull. He figured those hallways would be his best bet to find a restroom, so he asked Ziggy to place a marker and proceeded to climb back down. Once his feet were back on the deck, he made his way toward the steps leading to the elevated platform.

While he was fairly certain that the group of dwarves he could hear were on the other side of a small mountain of elven crates to his left and not particularly near his current position, yet still he used extreme caution when he approached the first cross street gap in the crates. Not wanting to get caught he attempted to activate his blur skill before crossing it. With an audible pop his attempt failed and a nearby steam pipe burst down the middle. The escaping steam emitted an ear-piercing whistle, the ambient temperature also spiked, and the corner of a nearby crate fell noisily to the floor, having been cleanly sliced off its parent crate by steam so hot it was invisible.

Andrew launched himself backwards hoping to avoid a fate similar to the crate or his lungs being scalded by the heat. Only realizing when he landed that he was lucky for two reasons: his boots still seemed to be mostly working and that he didn’t launch himself into the invisible steam death ray. He took a moment to study the burst pipe before he made his next move. He tried hard to estimate where the leak might be pointing. He almost let out an audible gasp when a set of nodules on the pipe sprouted legs and scurried over to weld a patch of metal over the crack. The whistling subsided as the bots finished their work. In the hustle of trying to not get cut in two by the escaping steam he had failed to notice that the Dwarven conversation had stopped, and he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching.

No sooner than he had found a hiding spot, than the flamboyant Dwarf they called Rhem walked into view and looked up at the newly repaired pipe.

“I swear this magic will be the death of us all if we can’t get it offloaded on that lifeless rock soon. On the Brightside at least we don’t have to test the automatic repair functions in this part of the ship this week, huh Kopa?” Said Rhem before noticing his companion was nowhere in sight.

“umm Kopa you there?” He called out without a response returning.

“I guess she had better things to do. Huh oh well guess it’s just you and me, Konee,” Rhem said while patting a cute little automaton, perched on his shoulder.

The automaton might have been the cutest thing Andrew had ever seen made of polished brass and silver. It had oversized catlike ears, each appearing to be controlled separately as they moved independently to scan the room. While the ears helped with the cuteness factor, it was the saucer style round eyes on the front of its face and the button nose, complete with short almost useless whiskers, that really brought the cuteness factor to a maximum.

That’s about where the comparison to a kitten would end. Its pupils were round and distinctly more hello kitty than that of a cat’s eye and its body seemed more reminiscent of monkey’s as well. This was especially true with its long forearms and short back legs, each appendage ending in a monkey-like paw with opposing thumbs. Its tail was something else altogether as it reminded Andrew of something that would have been part of an ancient cartoon he had once binged watch a few seasons of. Though the name of the cartoon alluded him…Jet somethings? Jet and sons? No matter the cartoon’s name, the tail was a moderately thin cored number, with bulbs of silver centered on the trunk, each one getting smaller until one no bigger than a ball bearing was at its tip.

It made a yipping purr sound as the dwarf patted it on the head.

“I guess we should go back to the table to continue inventorying this valuable filth.”

The automaton only answered with a sort of hiss growl which Andrew took as disapproval.

“Don’t worry, Konee, I’ll repair you if any of this junk corrupts you.”

To Andrew’s dismay the dwarf took another minute or two to ensure the patch was good. His steampunk googles cycling through a few lenses before he seemed satisfied with its efficacy. All the while Andrew’s guts were bubbling so loudly he was concerned the dwarf might hear them. This dwarf seemed not to have a care in the world for Andrew’s discomfort though, as it took forever to start to slowly meander back to the others. Once there he could hear Rhem chastise his missing friend.

“Kopa, I thought you were coming with me. Imagine my surprise when I tried to get your opinion only to find empty air. Admittedly it was so similar to when you are there, it took me some time to notice your absence. At least Koneeho was there to help me verify the work.” Andrew could hear Rhem say as he apparently found his companions.

“Did you need my help verifying that a weld was good? I hope not as you been you’ve been dealing with steampipes since you were like ten?” said the female voice that he was pretty sure was Kopa.

“5 actually, but when you’re 174, what’s 5 years?”

Hearing that the dwarves were all back together, Andrew tried to activate his blur skill once more before he crossed the gap in the crates.

“What in the world!?” exclaimed Rhem as an ear-piercing shriek filled the room. The source of which was steam escaping from a corner of the previous patch where a corner had peeled up. The escaping steam had cut one of the nearby crates cleanly in two. The contents spilled out onto the floor as the escaping steam melted it like butter, leaving only hazardous melted mess behind.

“Hmm, I guess you did need my help after all. Can’t even check a patch anymore? “ the woman, he was fairly certain was named Kopa, chided Rhem as he walked into plain view of Andrew.

Relief flooded him when it was clear that this time the blur skill had deployed successfully, and Rhem couldn’t see him. Once he moved back out of sight, Andrew wasted no time moving down the path to find some crates to duck behind. When he peeked again, he saw that the Dwarves had actually congregated right at the spot where he had previously been standing. This time it was all three dwarves he had heard talking previously, each staring up at the pipe in wonder as the auto repair bots fixed the leak once more.

“It appears some wretched thing stored near here spiked with magic right before this happened. Are those footprints?” Rhem asked as he stared at the floor, the lens of his googles switching in and out of use in what seemed like an almost random pattern they were moving so fast.

Another dwarf walked into sight and through process of elimination Andrew assumed this was his Scottish sounding dwarf. This dwarf looked more like what he expected, while still missing the mark by a good bit. He was at least short with a stocky powerful build, and had long red hair with a single patterned braid. That was about where it ended. While this dwarf’s beard was a full beard to Rhem’s long goatee, it was still rather short by Gimli’s standards, being only an inch or two in length. The dwarf’s eyes were striking not only because the bright green hue, but also because of the warm friendly feeling they seemed to radiate. His plain leather garments were elegantly well designed in a way that somehow belied that they weren’t inexpensive items.

“Are what footprints? Rhem, you’re staring the bloody clean floor!” Said the dwarf with the Scottish sounding accent.

Rhem tapped his googles as if calling his friend dumb without saying the words.

“Do you think we have an elven infiltrator?”

“It would be an obvious explanation, Aminci. They go this way,” Rhem said while pointing in Andrew’s direction.

They walked only a few paces before Rhem stopped and looked all around.

“What’s going on Rhem?” asked Kopa

“The heat trail ends here; no other heat signatures are detected. Doesn’t that seem odd even for elf?” Rhem said pointing at the spot that Andrew’s blur power took effect.

“What isn’t odd with an elf?” replied the red-haired dwarf they had called Aminci

“Amin, Rhem, I found something else that’s odd,” said Kopa.

While she was also short and stocky by human standards, she was definitely lither than her male counterparts and she had no beard. Nor any stumble. While it was a definite improvement over the dwarven women with beards trope, Andrew’s inner geek sighed at the fact that these were not the dwarves of his fantasy novels. Driving that point home was her clothing, while she was dressed in all leather, and it did hug her feminine curves it was not skintight and she didn’t have extraneous skin showing. Nor did her hair look like she had just come out of a movie studio dressing room. Instead, it was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a single intricate braid left hanging over her right temple. While she held no candle next to Linnie's beauty, he guessed by dwarven standards she was likely highly sought after. She stood there looking at the two men, one hand on her hip and her other holding a rather ominous looking high-tech revolver which was resting on her shoulder while she tapped one foot expectantly.

“Do you plan to tell us, Kopa? Or are you just going to tease us?” said the Scottish sounding man he assumed was Amin.