Chapter Text
Another day, another adventure done on board the ship known as the Per Aspera. This particular day, VR-LA stood behind Dani as she sat in the engine room, tinkering furiously with the object in front of her.
A glow flashed brightly from the small stone sitting on the workbench. VR-LA caught the light a moment later, twisting the Weave in such a way that it was captured an instant before it blinded himself or Dani.
“Shit!” Dani swore, brandishing her multitool at the stone like it might understand her threat and comply. “Keep it up VR-LA, we’ve almost got it!”
Static pulsed up VR-LA’s arms, shocking his core and jamming several gears, but he managed to hold onto the magic. He needed to make this work. He’d asked Dani to do this, after all. A familiar twinge of guilt twisted his thoughts for a moment at once again dragging Dani into his own messes, but he forced the thought down and away. It had been nearly six months since each of them recommitted themselves to the crew, since Dani had said, with a knowing glance in his direction, your goals are our goals. Since then he had been trying very hard to take the sentiment to heart, and asking for Dani’s help in this was just one step in that direction. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to ask her to go through the trouble all over again if they failed. With that thought locked firmly in his mind, VR-LA pushed forward, forcing the outpouring magic back, ceasing its attempts to dizzy and blind him and crushing it into something he hoped Dani would be able to actually use.
“There we go,” Dani said, grinning now that she was finally able to move in with her tool. The diagram showing their draft for the updated runes was pinned up in front of them, but Dani didn’t bother looking at it. VR-LA knew them by heart now, and no doubt Dani did too. And thank Mystra for that. Dani moved quickly, carving the last of the new runes into the stone surface just as VR-LA’s concentration began to break.
“Hold on, hold on,” Dani muttered. VR-LA’s fans whirred loudly under the strain but he held his focus for just a moment longer.
“There we go !” Dani shouted once more. VR-LA’s concentration broke and the light burst out, but rather than hit them both in a destructive wave of magic, it simply dissipated into the air. Dani laughed maniacally before turning to punch VR-LA in the shoulder. “I told you we could do it!”
“I should never have doubted you,” VR-LA said, wheezing. Dani picked up the now mundane-looking stone and held it out to him. VR-LA took it gingerly in one hand, caressing the runes carved into its face gently with his thumb. “I’m not sure what to do now.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do now? Give him a call, you idiot.”
“Yes, obviously, I just mean… it’s been months. I’m not sure what to say.”
Dani huffed. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter to me. You probably want some privacy, anyway.” She stood to go.
“Thank you,” VR-LA said, catching her arm. “Seriously. I really owe you one Dani, this is a huge favour.”
“A bigger favour than venturing into Tu’narath for your old crew?”
“No, of course not, but… it still means a lot to me. So thank you.”
Dani smiled. “Anything for my buddy,” she said, turning and walking out of the room.
Now alone in the engine room, the knot of anxiety in VR-LA’s mechanical gut swelled, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
What if it didn’t work? He and Dani had spent a lot of time figuring out how they could upgrade the stones to work across multiple planescapes without both halves of the set present, what if they’d gotten something wrong?
And if it did work, who’s to say Maxim even kept his half? Once it became apparent that the stones didn’t work across the different planescapes, what reason would Maxim have to keep it on him?
A thousand different worries raced through VR-LA’s mind as he sank into Dani’s seat. The functionality of the stones, the distance, the time… chief among them were the words Maxim had said to him as his final goodbye before he left and the question at the forefront of VR-LA’s mind every time he remembered them: did he really mean that?
He’d spent so many nights turning the memory over and over in his head that at this point it must be so burned into his brain that even another psychic storm would fail to erase it.
It was the day the crew of Maxim’s ship prepared to set sail. K-LB had finished his calculations and confirmed that they should now be able to leave through the Astral Sea. The Sanctum had been outfitted with all the required magical gear, most of it studier and more stable than the cobbled-together solution they’d found for the Per Aspera now that they had time to properly build and research and prepare. Nearly two months after the mind flayers’ defeat, Maxim contacted him to let him know that they were getting ready to leave. VR-LA eagerly convinced the rest of the crew to meet them on the Astral Sea so as to properly send them off.
He’d made his goodbyes to K-LB, E-DN, and C-RA, when Maxim approached him for a moment alone. The two of them had stared out at the Astral Sea over the Per Aspera’s railing, while VR-LA’s crew and VR-LA’s old crew caught up with each other below decks. Silence had stretched over both of them in a long moment that VR-LA prayed to Mystra to extend, even for a second or two longer. He’d made his choice, when Maxim had proposed that VR-LA joined them on this adventure. He knew he never wanted to leave Dani and Kyana and yes, even Vhas. That didn’t make this moment any easier.
It was a long time before Maxim spoke, but when he did his deep voice was as steady and as calm as it ever was. If Maxim was as torn up about it as VR-LA he certainly didn’t let it on.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you to change your mind last minute?”
VR-LA stared out into the sea, willing himself not to look over at Maxim. “As tempting as it is, I would be miserable leaving my crew behind.”
“I figured as much. But I had to try.”
“What are you most looking forward to seeing out there?” VR-LA asked, trying to keep the tone light.
“What am I most looking forward to seeing…” VR-LA’s watched out of the corner of his eye as Maxim brought a hand to his chin. “It’s difficult to say given how little we yet know, but I am eager to discover Docent’s ‘House Cannith’ and what relation it holds to our origin. I should thank you, by the way, though I’m sure K-LB already has. He says that Docent has aided him a great deal in his research, and I don’t think it would be inaccurate to say that K-LB seems to have grown quite fond of him.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Docent is very charming, in his own way.”
“I also look forward to seeing the sight you described of Wildspace. I know not what to expect from it, except that you called it beautiful, and that is more than enough to have me impatient to see it.”
“It certainly is breathtaking. Funny, I didn’t take you to be someone concerned with the beauty of things, Maxim.”
“I am not. It is not the beauty of Wildspace that concerns me, rather that you , VR-LA, find it beautiful. That is of interest to me.” Maxim’s voice had somehow gotten even deeper. His words reverberated powerfully in the space around them and VR-LA could only do so much to stay focused on the words actually being said.
“I… am not sure what to say. That is very kind of you, Maxim.”
The voices of the others grew suddenly louder and VR-LA’s heart sank with the realization that the other mechanites must be packing up to leave. Maxim’s hands tightened around the railing as he realized it too.
“It seems our time grows thin, VR-LA. Anything you wish to say to me before I depart should be said now.”
VR-LA paused. He reached into a pocket in his robes, near his chest, and pulled out the sending stone. “The odds of these working across the multiverse are slim. But we can hope, and if that doesn’t work, we can research. Just promise me that you’ll stay in touch.”
“Easy enough,” Maxim said, mirroring VR-LA’s motion and touching the pocket where he kept his half of the set. “I’ll be sure to call as often as I can. I look forward to comparing notes with you more extensively, VR-LA. It will be pleasing for me to have more interesting stories to bring to our discussions.”
“I already found your contributions to our discussions pleasing enough as is, Maxim, though I can’t say I’m disappointed to see you leaving the nest, as it were.”
“Then we are of the same mind.” Maxim paused for a moment. “You have nothing else to say?”
VR-LA, at long last, turned to face Maxim. As always, his inexpressive faceplate made his emotional state frustrating to gauge. His tone, impassive as ever, was equally difficult to read. Was he… disappointed? Annoyed? VR-LA was at a complete loss. “No, nothing I can think of,” he said. “Do you?”
Maxim was silent for a long time before he said, “Yes. I do.”
VR-LA gestured for him to continue.
“When you say that you cannot accompany us because you cannot leave your crew behind, I understand what you mean.” Maxim paused once more. “In a sense, I am lucky, because there is very little in this planescape that I will miss. There are very few things here that I am connected to, and now that my home will always be with me, that few dwindles down to one. That is to say, VR-LA, that I would find it very easy to leave this planescape never to return, if not for that one thing.”
“Mechanus,” VR-LA said. “I can only imagine how frightening it must be to leave the source of your power behind.”
Maxim stopped, giving VR-LA a strange look that, once again, he could not read. “I did not mean Mechanus,” he said slowly. “Though it is the origin of my power, it is not what drives it. So long as there is a force for law in the world, that force is mine to command, Mechanus or no. I would miss my home, yes, were it not coming with me, but I will not miss the whole of Mechanus. It is something else that I speak of now.”
VR-LA felt irritation rising in him when it became clear that Maxim wasn’t in a hurry to elaborate, but did his best to tamp it down. “Please speak plainly, Maxim. You are difficult enough to read for those who are skilled in insightfulness, among whom I do not number.”
“Apologies… it seems that as unskilled as you are at parsing the thoughts of others, I am even worse at saying the things that are most important to say. I…” Maxim hesitated, and VR-LA could hear gears grinding as he fought to translate thoughts into words. “I will be plain, and neatly summarize what I mean to say, which is: VR-LA, I am going to miss you.”
Something in VR-LA’s mechanics momentarily stuttered, as suddenly several of his internal processes fired out of sync. “I’m going to miss you too, Maxim.”
“Maxim! Hey!” A shout was heard from across the deck. K-LB stood there, C-RA and E-DN already boarding the Sanctum behind him, clearly waiting for Maxim. “We’re about ready to go, but we can’t leave without our pilot.”
“Naturally,” Maxim said, shifting away from VR-LA and heading towards his ship. He glanced over his shoulder only once to speak to VR-LA. “I’ll call when we arrive in Wildspace.”
“Sure. Great.”
“Farewell, friend VR-LA!” Maxim called as he boarded the Sanctum.
VR-LA watched him go, still slightly dazed. “Goodbye, Maxim,” he said to the now empty air.
When hours passed and no message came through the stones, VR-LA’s suspicions were confirmed, and he set to work researching a new solution, all the while the question racing through his head: did he really mean that?
Of course, Maxim had no incentive to lie to him, and he certainly wasn’t the type to be deceitful. But maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe Maxim had said it in the moment, knowing that he would not see VR-LA for some time, and exaggerated his feelings. Maybe Maxim had thought he meant it, only to realize once he left that he didn’t miss VR-LA nearly as much as he thought he might. Or, worst of all possibilities, what if he had meant it, and it had been completely honest and true, only for him to find the universes beyond were so wonderful and full of curiosities that VR-LA hardly ever crossed his mind? What then?
Worries hurled through his mind at a frightening pace. What if, what if, what if. If he was completely honest with himself, he knew it was because Maxim being his friend meant a lot more to him than he’d thought it would. And though he had his memories back, there was something about how Maxim had been his first connection to his old life and how willing Maxim had been to answer his questions despite their previously professional dynamic that endeared him in VR-LA’s mind, despite now remembering all of it anyways. Getting his memories back, finding his old crew… at the end of the day he had Maxim to thank for making him want it, even though Maxim could never have known the profound impact it would have on him. When Maxim had made the decision to call off their friendship, to remain strictly professional, it had hurt VR-LA in places he didn’t even realize he could be hurt. And when he referred to VR-LA as “friend”, something in VR-LA squeezed with the reassurance that something broken in the world had been repaired. And he desperately wanted to hear the voice of his friend again. All he had to do was make the damn call .
The smooth stone of the sending stone was soothing to the touch, despite it being the subject of his worry. It was solid and dependable, just as Maxim had always been for him. Maxim had promised VR-LA that he’d keep in touch. Even if their status as friends had changed, or would change, VR-LA owed it to Maxim to at the very least make it possible for him to fulfill his promise.
As VR-LA ran his thumb over the runes of the stone, the runes lit up one by one. When they were all glowing, he raised the stone close to his mouth to speak.
***
Somewhere off in a distant world, Maxim sat with rapt attention, listening to a scribe’s long-winded tale about some hero of myth and legend. To anyone else it might have been dreadfully boring, but Maxim was just glad to have finally found someone who was willing to enter his sanctum and share what they knew of the history of their world. Frustratingly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, most people were not keen to share their personal history with the strange outsider who showed up outside their village in a bizarre ship none of them had ever seen before, especially in a planescape that Maxim and the others had come to realize did not contain mechanites or any other form of sentient construct.
Logically, Maxim knew that being willing to actually leave the Sanctum and explore for himself would make his life significantly easier, but every time he brought himself close to stepping outside, something caught in his chest and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of memories he desperately did not want to think about. His Sanctum was safe . Why would he risk it all and leave?
So instead the other members of the crew did him the favour of seeking out people who would be willing to come inside and be interviewed. Those people were few, but they’d managed to find some scribe who was just as eager to find an audience willing to be monologued at as Maxim was to listen. As the scribe spoke, Maxim jotted down notes and nodded along to their tale, only occasionally interrupting to ask a clarifying question. Perhaps this individual would become another associate of Maxim’s. They certainly had a lot to say.
As he contemplated this, Maxim felt a buzz come from a pocket in his robes and paused. After a moment of confusion he realized abruptly that there was only one thing it could be, and several of his joints locked up. Movements stuttering, he quickly tried to fish the stone out of the pocket, fumbling as his fingers jolted from the sudden stopping and starting of his joints.
“My sincerest apologies,” he said, interrupting the scribe in the middle of their sentence. Finally managing to wrest the sending stone from his pocket and seeing, for the first time in months, the glow of the runes on the surface, he stood quickly as panic and adrenaline flooded his systems. “I’m afraid I have to take this call,” he continued, as calmly as he could manage, before all but sprinting out of the room.
Just in time too. The stone crackled with arcane energy and Maxim stared at it with a burning intensity, waiting.
“Uh, hello! Maxim, are you there?” VR-LA’s voice, clear as day, echoed through the empty chamber. Maxim did his best not to let the sound of his fans cooling his system be heard over through stone and took a moment to compose himself as much as he reasonably could.
“Ah, VR-LA. I see you have found a way to make the stones work across planescapes. Truly, this is a marvelous day.”
VR-LA gave a nervous laugh on the other end. “We have Dani to thank for that.”
“It does not surprise me. As baffling as I find her antics, I cannot deny her skills.” A shuffling noise from the other room abruptly reminded him that he had a guest and he sighed. “Apologies, VR-LA, I was in the middle of a conversation when you called, I should probably wrap that up quickly.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The stones should work just fine now, you can call me back when you’re finished, if you’d like,” VR-LA said as Maxim returned to his study where the scribe sat with an apprehensive look on their face.
“No, no. It’s quite alright, this will only take me a moment,” Maxim said. He turned to the scribe. “Apologies again, I don’t mean to be so rude, but I’m afraid our conversation must end here. I have other matters to attend to.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, really… I was probably boring you anyway. I’ll head out,” the scribe said.
“Please do return, I would very much like to hear the rest of the story from you.”
“Uh… sure! Um, I guess I’ll see you?”
“If you are amenable to it, you shall. Now, be on your way,” Maxim said, but the scribe was already out the door. “Probably for the best,” he said to VR-LA. “I’m the only one in this party who can cast Tongues, and I only have so much energy in me in a day.”
“Huh. I hadn’t considered that there’d be a language barrier. Actually, I don’t remember that ever being something we talked about… I can only imagine how frustrating that would have been if we’d somehow managed to break the rules of the planescape only to discover that we needed a translator.”
“You would have managed, you seem a remarkably resilient bunch. I suspect that you yourself—”
“Finished so soon?” K-LB interrupted as he entered Maxim’s study, having not bothered to knock. “And here I thought our guest might be staying the night!”
Maxim held up the stone. “Would you like to speak to VR-LA, K-LB?”
K-LB’s eyes lit up. “He made contact?”
“Is that K-LB?” VR-LA’s voice crackled through the stone.
“It is indeed. Would you like to speak to him?”
“Very much so,” VR-LA said.
Maxim handed the stone off to K-LB, who eagerly began chatting away with VR-LA about everything they’d seen so far. A pang went through Maxim at the thought that he had hoped to be the one updating VR-LA on their progress, but he supposed K-LB had certainly been friends with VR-LA for longer, and this had been their whole mission long before Maxim entered the picture. Still, it gave him and VR-LA less to talk about.
K-LB excitedly announced that he would bring VR-LA around to speak to the other members of the crew, to which VR-LA happily agreed. Figuring that they’d be at it for a while, Maxim sank into his chair, picking up the notes he’d taken from the conversation with the scribe, and began transposing them properly into his permanent records.
A few minutes passed and Maxim’s systems finally cooled down from the shock and elation at hearing VR-LA’s voice again. After he’d said goodbye to VR-LA all those months ago, his first thought had been to pat himself on the back for managing to say what he’d been working himself up to say for many days prior. He knew he’d spend the days to come cringing with embarrassment over every detail and over analyzing VR-LA’s responses to his words, but for now he could simply be pleased with himself for having said it at all.
It was of utmost importance that he do so, after everything that had happened. The tenuous nature of their relationship weighed on Maxim heavily in the weeks before their departure. Though he’d reaffirmed his friendship with VR-LA after the battle, he knew, drawing on the now atrophied muscle of relational skills he’d had before his years of isolation, that it might seem… unstable. The development of their relationship from professional associates to something close to friends had been surprisingly pleasant for Maxim, who had presumed that he’d stay friendless for the rest of his life. But VR-LA was excellent company, he’d discovered, as their conversations veered from transactional exchanges to genuine discussions. Still, an ever present sense of dread loomed over Maxim every time VR-LA left the safety of the sanctum to continue on his deeply dangerous lifestyle.
The other shoe had dropped on that awful day when VR-LA had come to reclaim his staff. It wasn’t easy to accept a future that he knew would play out exactly as it had before, but with VR-LA’s suicidal conviction staring him down he had no choice but to. And knowing that he could not face watching another brilliant, heroic, reckless man die, all while he could do nothing to save him, Maxim closed the door on that friendship. It was the only viable option.
Even when VR-LA announced that once the fight against the mind flayers was over he intended to take a step back, Maxim had been cautious. Hopeful, in as much as he could be. But at his core he believed in balance, and he knew the bill would come due for VR-LA eventually. Still, the flicker of hope was enough to make him promise to himself, that just as he had implored VR-LA to try to escape his fate, he would open that door again and try , to the very best of his ability, to keep it open, no matter matter how much it would hurt. He’s going to try for my sake. It wouldn’t be an equal exchange if I did not try for his, as well.
And though it had been a struggle, Maxim had kept his promise. Slotting the word “friend” before “VR-LA” came easier and easier to him each time he said it, which only slightly vexed him. It was an invitation. The door is open. As they neared the day of their departure, however, it occurred to Maxim that the invitation would not be enough. Not after he closed the door the first time. He needed to provide a deeper reassurance, an affirmation that he was trying. Knowing that VR-LA would not pass up the chance to say goodbye, he saved it for the last moment, secure in the fact that if it all went horribly wrong he was about to be as far from VR-LA as he could possibly get.
The first step had been to actually set foot on the deck of the Per Aspera. It was notably low-risk: just two ships, both of whom were manned by equally trustworthy crews, out alone on the Astral Sea where, yes, dangers lurked, but not nearly so much as many other planes, and most importantly, the unpredictable factors present, even Dani, were all things Maxim was very much aware of and could thus prepare for. All that said, it still took him the better part of a day psyching himself up to be able to leave the Sanctum. He managed, he hoped, to keep any exterior signs of his stress well under wraps, knowing that, for VR-LA, it would all be worth it.
It had gone as well as he could have hoped for. Nerves, of course, led to some stumbling on his part, some hesitation, but he said what he needed to, as clearly as he had to for VR-LA to take his meaning. Naturally, he’d spent the past few months repeating the conversation on loop in his head, coming up with a million different and better things he could have said, but above it all he knew he ought to be proud for handling the task he had given himself.
That pride, accompanied by a sense of weightlessness and peace over how happy VR-LA had seemed, was the first thing he felt after his goodbye, and it carried him all the way through the jump to Wildspace. The second feeling emerged when they arrived, when he saw for the first time the sight that VR-LA had described.
It was exactly as breathtaking as VR-LA had said it would be, which, for some reason, was the part his mind kept catching on. Yes, staring out in quiet awe at the vast, overwhelmingly empty void that lies between worlds was an experience in and of itself, but all the while Maxim couldn’t help thinking that it was such a shame he would never get to see VR-LA’s first reaction to seeing it.
The third thing he felt, when he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the sky, was the crushing disappointment of seeing the runes of the sending stone sputter out as it tried to reach its match from too far a distance, and the reality set in that it would be long time before he and VR-LA spoke again.
“Maxim?” K-LB said as he re-entered the room, still holding the sending stone. Maxim started, realizing he’d been staring into space for the better part of an hour, and turned to face his fellow mechanite.
“K-LB.”
“I think we’ve kept VR-LA from you long enough,” K-LB chuckled, holding the stone out for Maxim to take. “We’ve all had a chance to say our piece to him, and he seems anxious to speak to you so… he’s all yours now.”
“My thanks, K-LB,” Maxim said. He took the stone and waited for K-LB to leave before sitting back down with the stone in his hand. “VR-LA, I trust that the crew handled you well.”
“There was some passing back and forth,” VR-LA said, a smile audible in his voice. “I am so glad to be able to hear them again.”
“I can only imagine. Having only recently rekindled your bond with them, missing them for so long must have been difficult.”
“That seems to be the running theme,” VR-LA said.
Comfortable silence fell over them. Without the panic of the sudden call and the rush of organizing everyone else on the ship, there was nothing left to do except sit with each other’s company.
“The crew told me a little about what you’ve been up to,” VR-LA started. “It would be nice to hear what you’ve been working on since we last spoke.”
“Gladly.”
They spoke at length, for many long hours. Were it not for their need to rest, Maxim would have gladly sat there speaking to VR-LA through the night. Unfortunately, he did eventually have to enter stasis, and VR-LA had other responsibilities to attend to. As their conversation neared its inevitable close, VR-LA piped up.
“Oh, just one more thing, Maxim.”
Maxim hummed in response.
“As grateful as I am that you were so… insistent on responding immediately, one of the upgrades Dani put into the stones is actually one I suggested. I figured, due to your and my inconsistent schedules, that it would probably be for the best if we could send messages to each other without needing to respond right away. Dani made it possible. When either of us send a message, if the other doesn’t respond right away, the stone saves whatever the message was until the other listens to it or the sender sends another message, at which point the previous recorded message will be supplanted. So there’s no need to worry if I call you and you can’t respond right away. My message will still be there whenever you are ready to listen to it. The same goes for me.”
“Interesting. That does make things easier, I suppose. Though I would still like to talk to you directly as often as I can.”
“Certainly, I feel the same.”
Maxim sighed as he checked his internal clock one last time. He really did need to rest, as much as it frustrated him in the moment. “I suppose I will hear from you soon,” he said in lieu of a goodbye.
“Yes, of course. I will leave you to your rest, Maxim.”
“And I, you.”
The glow of the runes on the sending stone faded as VR-LA pulled away. Maxim was plunged into a suddenly oppressive silence that gnawed at the inside of him even as he settled in for stasis.