"Indeed, it's not a reasonable feature on a normal animal, neither are its excess of eyes and limbs. Light-tempering making a creature more deadly is fairly common to see, but I think there's a selection bias. The kind of light-tempered creatures we do see mostly fly because if they didn't they'd just drift towards the abyss and be picked up by the supplicants." She tosses the shattered fang aside.
"What I'm trying to say is that this serpent resembling a living weapon isn't that unusual."

"So you're saying that it's not that they can all fly, but that the ones that can't fly fall out of the sky and die? Have you seen any falling, or had pieces of them come up from below?"

"Mm, no no, they don't fall, per se, gravity isn't consistently present in the open air enough for that to be the reason they all perish. Rather, anything that can't change its trajectory in midair that makes its way below the ceiling will be moving towards the abyss. At that point they are easy prey for anything that can fly or that reaches up from the abyss."

"Oh, that's fascinating. I didn't realize that falling wasn't consistent here."

"A scarcity of gravity is a persistent problem around the Constancy. Though, if it were omnipresent everything above would fall into the abyss, which would certainly be a different, more cataclysmic problem."

"Yes, I for one am glad to not currently be falling into the abyss."

"The feeling is mutual." She leans over towards Ellen, tugs on the back of her collar. "Hm, are there any identifying marks on your clothes? Tags? Something in your pockets perhaps?"

"I'm not sure; I haven't looked."

The back of her collar doesn't have any obvious tags; neither do the side seams of her shirt, when she untucks it to check.

She leans back, then stares at Ellen for a few seconds. "There are people who care about what is found in the supplicant stones, they pay for any records people keep of what they find, when and where. They are very meticulous about keeping accurate records." She looks towards the dead beast, now leaking red and magenta fluids on the deck.

"I've worked there myself, poured over those records to search for discrepancies and human error. Which is why I can tell you that you are the fourth person to be extracted out of one of those stones."

"...oh? What, um, what were the other ones like?"

"You can ask me about the first and third one some other time." She gets up. "But the second one. The second one is her majesty, our Empress in Veils." She moves to leave, but lingers at the door. "I wonder what the two of you might have in common."

"I don't think I'd make a very good empress. It sounds like a demanding job." She wants to ask what Maria meant about the two of them having things in common, but it sounded so portentous that she's afraid to inquire further.

"It takes a special kind of person to manage the entire Constancy. Come, there's work to be done." She leaves the room.

She follows.

The interior of the ship is in much better condition than the rest of the vessel. Furniture in passing rooms are tipped over and shelves have spilled their contents on the floor, crew in those rooms nod to Maria as they clean up the mess. Ellen is led to an airlock, the walls are lined with numbered lockers, Maria pops one open, pulls out a thick full body suit from it, she hands it to Ellen. "Here, put it on, then the helmet." She points to a head-encompassing helmet with a respirator and glass visor tinted the same color as the windows in this place. "This suit will you from the light, and the helmet has a filter in case of airborne toxins or particulates."

She nods seriously and suits up, careful to examine the structure and fastenings of the suit so she doesn't miss anything important.

Ellen's breath is loud in the suit, Maria grabs two cables, clips one end of both to Ellen's suit. "These are your lifelines, do not unclip them from your suit unless you are in the airlock. One of these should be clipped to the vessel at all times, you have two so you can remain attached to the ship when you are swapping rails. Grab that." She points to one of the loops of cloth hanging from the ceiling, which she takes hold of before pressing the button that opens the airlock. "Any questions?"

She grabs the loop when told, and instinctively tries to breathe more quietly. At 'any questions?' she shakes her head. The situation as presented so far seems well enough explained. Unless—she hesitates a moment, reluctant to contradict the answer she's already given, before tentatively inquiring, "What are we going to be doing out there?"

The heavy door hisses as Maria answers. "We'll be prying the beast off of the ship as best we can, while securing the carcass to ensure it doesn't float off. After that we'll be hauling it into the cargo bay for dissection, the captain and I have an interest in the anatomy of these beasts." Maria, clad in a matching suit, clips one of her loops to a sturdy looking metal bar and motions for Ellen to do the same, then carefully exits the vessel.

Right. She can do that.

She follows along, paying close attention to what Maria is doing and how.

Maria peaks out the door with her second loop, then unclips the first one, she helps Ellen do the same, then exits out of sight. Upon inspection it seems that she clipped the two of them on a long railing on the hull.

Sensible. Ellen follows after her. Is maneuvering out here going to be difficult? She expects it will be, what with the safety lines. You don't need safety lines for things that are easy.

There's no gravity, and the hull of the ship seems to be lined with these rails, such that crew can navigate the exterior without having to worry about... floating off. It's not exactly hard, it's just a matter of reaching the end of a rail, clipping oneself to this new rail and unclipping from the last. The most difficult thing that Ellen needs to deal with as Maria leads her is coping with the breathtaking openness of the space around her.

The openness is a little disconcerting, but she adjusts. Clip the new rail, unclip the last, haul herself along the rail, repeat.

The shallow horizon of the vessel gives way to the slain body of the creature. The wounds it has sustained are deep, but in rigor mortis it remains anchored to the hull by its teeth. Maria pops open a panel, retrieving a couple of prybars, she hands one to Ellen. "Try not to lose it."

Many of its eyes are missing, damaged or burst. They look oddly human from up close, but given their haphazard arrangement its a wonder how they were supposed to make sense of the visual information they provide.

From the looks of it some of the rails have been broken, one could theoretically become unhooked if they're not careful.