Xaviers!

In a hanger bay in the point, where the Blackbird might normally be found, sat a massive submarine.

Well, 'massive' in terms of the fact that this was once a regular human student, and not a 40-foot long, 30-ton piece of high-strength alloyed steel. In terms of submarines themselves, it was actually quite a dinky little ship, but more than enough for a small team of X-Men to use comfortably as they ventured out into the great unknown.

The submarine was currently hoisted on massive chains, so the underside was still accessible. A couple Wills in jumpsuits were fitting a large tank, apparently not part of Will himself, into the rear of the vessel. Another Will was straddled atop the thing, checking the integrity of the outer hull. And yet another few Wills were beginning a paint job; bright yellow and blue in the traditional X-Men color set. Apparently, Will himself hadn't bothered (or been able?) to shift that by himself, so these additional touches needed to be applied externally.

((open))

"You know." Ashlie says as she walks into the hangar. "When a submarine was mentioned I imagined a small research submersible, not a full-blown submarine, but you never fail to fully commit."

"If it's worth doing..." one Will started


"It's worth overdoing," the others joined in.

"What is the tank for?" she asks as she makes her way over.

"Fuel," one of the Wills not busy with trying to fit everything explained.

"Worst case scenario -- or, well, one of the worst case scenarios -- is not being able to hold the form under duress. This is a lot of stress and a lot of strain, which is why we're externalizing as much of the form, so we can just kind of focus on *not* collapsing.

And to help with that, we're loading on a tank of...well, it's basically an electrolyte solution, of sorts. So we can up our stamina and keep going for longer, if there's no good place to rest."

"Electrolytes for the submarine." she nods with an expression bordering on pained. "Do you have a control system on board or should we install our own to hook navigation and sensors into?"

"An electrolyte solution of sorts," Will clarified, as if that clarification actually clarified anything.

"And the more you can hook in, the better in the long run, I think. I'm fairly sure we can compensate for anything that we don't have time or expertise to finish, but we're being pushed beyond limits as is. Everything else we're asked to do is one more load on the back, you know? That's why you've got Tosh working on the sensors and Sam working on the shields and all that good stuff."

"Excellent. We'll put in a central console to connect everything together. And hopefully this..." she says and places a reinforced suitcase on a nearby table. "...will see us through to the other side."

She flips open the case and inside in a foam cutout sits the Titan Spike. Except it sits within a casing of electronics, a mesh of cables strung around it and attached at various points. At it's base are a number of thin brackets that slowly rotate in alternating directions. "Quantum key, drill-head, lodestone. Whatever you want to call it, it should open a path and amplify our ontological signature to create a stable space for us to exist in. I would like to say I designed it to amplify whatever blessing or shielding Samantha comes up with but honestly, I still barely understand how this thing works, much less in relation to more... ahem... theological concepts."

Every single Will turned and looked at the spike as ASHLIE unveiled it.

"I'm sure we'll figure out how to best use it when we plug it in," the Will Ashlie was talking to nodded. "It's incredible to think that it's something that shouldn't belong here, and yet there it sits..."

"Incredible and absolutely infuriating. First werewolves, then vampires, now this."

"Have you considered evicting one of our multiple fairy-tale style princesses? They may attract this sort of nonsense."

"For having the audacity to exist? That seems harsh."

"Now, I assume you have a bridge or control room on board somewhere. Is there a larger hatch or will I have to get Mr. Freud's assistance getting the components on board?"

Will paused to consider.

"I believe we'll be able to stretch the hatch large enough to get bulky things in, if only for a few moments. Advantage of being a shifter, you know; even if it's hard to manipulate something of this size, there's some things that should work the same by analogy."

"Excellent. It should only be a couple crates. If I could borrow one or two of you to forklift them over from the workshop?"

"It's refit day; we're more than happy to drag whatever you need in here," he said.

A couple Wills trotted up behind him -- without actively being called, strangely.

Ashlie nods and heads out with the Wills in tow, returning after a while with electronic equipment strapped to a pallet, coils of cabling and various other bits and pieces.

"One control center, some assembly required."

"Plug and play, or is this something best left for the professionals?"

"Most of it is pretty straight forward but there are some experimental systems in there I'd better set up myself. And I might have to adapt the view-screen to the dimensions of the bridge."

"Well, then. All aboard who's going aboard."

The metal of the ship groaned as the hatch expanded to let Ashlie and the equipment through; not as smoothly as Will normally shifted for sure, but it was working for now. It just reeked of effort, rather than being second-nature.

The interior of the sub was a mess, though it was clearly a mess-in-progress. Panels lay open, wires hung loose, as a small squadron of Wills worked on getting everything inside, well, shipshape. While the exterior of the ship looked very standard, the controls and dials that were inside were a little more like you would expect from a WillSubmarine; brightly colored and a bit wild, but all clearly labeled and intuitive enough once you wrapped your head around it. Many of the controls weren't actually hooked up to anything yet, waiting the installation of the central console and Tosh's scanning equipment and any sort of other gizmos and gadgets Natalie and the crew could come up with, but the actual workstations were well on their way to being hooked up.

"Well... I can't say that things aren't color-coded." Ashlie says as she looks around the bridge. "The viewscreen will definitely have to get broken up into segments. We can fit the bow-facing one here if we move this console a bit and cover up the... please tell me these are not critically important magnetic tape reels..."

"30-year lifetime, easy portability, protected from cyber-attacks. Magnetic tape; not quite obsolete yet!"

The voice came from speakers on the ceiling.

"But no, nothing here is absolutely mission-critical; things can get moved as needed to install your equipment."

Ashlie narrows her eyes at the espousing of the qualities of magnetic tape but otherwise let's it go.

"Great. We'll put up the screens in place of windows then. I can retrofit the periscope column to be our main sensor array." she says as she starts getting to work disassembling the periscope.

"Tosh's sensors will be set up at key points inside the outer hull alongside the underwater microphones. The Neutronium Spike will go into the periscope. We can pulse it with energy and pick up the refracting energy signatures like a quantum sonar. This should also allow us to regulate the ontological field strength based on how far we extend the column if need be. The central console has an experimental interpretive engine coupled with a database of Tosh's readings of mutant signatures correlated to keywords which theoretically could give us a rough idea of any readings we might pick up out there. I was hoping to integrate it into your system because I suspect you might provide it with a lot more nuance..."

"Be careful with the equipment as you're dismantling it; I already have enough screws lose," the intercom joked.

"And I'm game for attempting to integrate your engine; it might take some trial and error to get it to work, however."

"Hence experimental. It'll have to be calibrated on the fly and may not work at all. There's only so much we can do to try and approximate or extrapolate on exospace conditions."

"Head's up." she says as she loosens a final bolt and twists the periscope column, letting the whole thing come free safe for some cables she reaches in to disconnect.

There's some brief static over the intercom as the periscope column detaches.

"Right...calibration," Will said after a moment, his voice a little shaky. "We'll make things work. Were you planning on coming along, or is that someone else's department?"

"And miss a historic first step into a great unknown? No, you could not keep me from this mission." she laughs. "I'll admit, not being loaded into an ultimately disposable vessel but rather steeping foot into danger in my entirety is a little intimidating but I'm hardly the first one to feel that way, I'd imagine."

"Steely eyed missile men only, and all that.

Missile women. Missile ex-robots."

"There's an argument to be made that significant parts of me are still running on artificial components. Is it odd to feel protective or even proud of that?" she asks with a kind of detached curiosity.

"I think you're talking to the wrong person if you're looking for reassurance on what is and is not normal."

"I don't particularly consider 'normal' to be of any intrinsic worth. But I do value your unique perspective and opinions."

"You asked if it was odd, and yes, of course it's odd. There are not many people walking around with artificial components inside of them to be proud or not proud.

But I think being proud of what makes one unique is a pretty standard part of the human condition, even if those unique bits are strange and unusual."

Sam sighs as she walks in.

"There has to be some heinous compound German word for arguing with your alternate self."

"I don't think it's the uniqueness." she says as she pulls apart the periscope column's interior, a spreading field of disassembled components around her. "Though there is a certain sense of accomplishment about achieving something novel, of course. It just strikes me as odd for me to feel attached to something I'd often considered a shackle. I never disliked my nature and circumstances certainly have changed, but I am still bound to a machine, albeit it one that has appropriated a biological system."

"Ah, yes. I believe it is called Doppelgängerwiderspruch." she says before looking over to Sam. "Granted, that is a purely theoretical concept and doesn't quite hold up to the realities of an inherently elevated conflict between assumed accord and diverged consciousness, but it is a good shorthand to explain why one discharged a graviton cannon in the workshop attempting to erase a forked backup."

"I believe it's also called 'Tuesday' at various Xavier campuses around the worlds.

You alright, Sam?" the intercom continued.

"I'm fine. I just..."

"Getting you shielded might be... weird."

"It's going to be something I find myself doubting the validity and efficacy of, isn't it?"

"Weird in what way?" the intercom said, as a few Wills turned to look at the conversation going on.

No, that wasn't creepy at all, no.

"It might involve a lot of blood."

"And I mean... a lot of blood."

"...And who's idea was this?"

"Who do you think? I'm still trying to... you know, dial it back from what she'd do."