"They wanted a plausibly deniable way to wipe undesirable elements out of colonies to provide more room for expansion. We were to make sure the tech worked. Don't think they realised quite how badly they'd chosen their test subjects..."

"They—ugh." Martin shudders, with a noise like a peal of tiny bells.

"It sounds like they got exactly what they deserved," he says, venom in his voice. 

"And then some! Pro tip: do not piss Wrath and Pri off at the same time. Completely different styles of anger that somehow compliment each other far too well."

That gets another one of those wicked supposed-to-be-a-smile, but the muscles don't work that way any more facial expressions off Wrath. "You say that like Pri ain't gonna be trying to beat Celestine into the ground when she gets told the entire story."

"I doubt that'll do much good, but I suppose an argument could be made for its positive impact on morale." 

"Yes, but unlike you, who'll do it with very little thought to anything other than 'beat into ground', Pride will have all the precision of a scalpel!" He grins at Martin. "We're all about the morale."

"What'll be better for morale is if you can come up with a way to get Celestine—not even dead, necessarily, just away. Ideally contained somehow, but even just getting them away from Kit and the others would be better than nothing." 

"I might have a couple of ideas," Wrath says thoughtfully. "What kind of strength levels are we talking here? Punch through a bulkhead?"

"Understand I'm only working from what I've seen, but what I've seen is..." Martin tries to call to mind examples of Celestine's abilities.

"They can lift any member of the crew off the ground, including me. I think Kolya and I are the only ones they would visibly struggle to lift—Kolya is much heavier than he looks. They're fast, too, which might be a bigger problem. I have enhanced vision, and they're still a blur at full speed." 

His voice grows tight as he recalls darker memories. "I don't know about a bulkhead, but I've seen them punch straight through an unenhanced human. It was...messy." 

"Takes less strength than you might think to punch through an unenhanced human," Wrath muses, apparently completely absently. "Speed might be the problem, but that just means we have to be creative with capture methods..."

"The other half of the problem will be keeping it a secret until you're ready. I...can't guarantee which, if any, of my crew can be trusted to help, and I would suggest having some contingencies you keep secret even from me." 

"Oh, you don't have to worry about people finding out. Internal comms might be fritzy but they're excellent for some things."

"Oh! That is convenient. What sort of range do you have with those?" he wonders. "Could you communicate with the rest of your group from here?" 

They're nearly at the Mechanisms' ship at this point, the closest docking point they could get to the concert venue but still quite a distance away. Above them, the ship looms much larger than one might expect for a crew so small. 

"We haven't tested full range, but we've dropped S on mountains before and been a few miles from him..."

"Easily far enough, then—ah. Time to change the subject, I think."

The Toy Soldier waves down to them from the top of the loading ramp. 

"How do you even work?" Wrath asks it, because she can't not.

"Oh, it's all clockwork!" 

And indeed, from up close there is a faint ticking noise. Its voice, though, doesn't sound like it comes from a machine—especially in contrast with Martin's, which very much does. 

"Fascinating. I didn't know anyone used old type clockwork these days." Pauses, squints. "...Although if you're immortal I suppose I shouldn't assume 'these days'."

"I'm an antique!" it says, pride clear in its voice—much more expressive than the ever-grinning face.

"I was in a museum for a while, you know," it continues, picking up a box to move it onto the ship. "I gave guided tours!" 

"Oooh, what kind of museum?" Apparently Avarice is more interested in that than Ira is, and follows after the Toy Soldier.

"It collected sculptures and paintings and dolls!" it explains.

"I was a walking exhibit! I told people all about the paintings and sculptures. My favourites were the paintings of glorious battles!" 

"Those are the best paintings!" Avarice agrees delightedly. "How long were you there for?"

"Oh, years and years! It got boring after a while," it says sadly. "No-one wanted to talk to me anymore, and it wasn't any fun. So I just walked out." 

"I'd've done the same. Did no-one try to stop you?"