Demolecularization and subsequent rematerialization are a harsh, icy rush through his chemical composition on a subatomic level.
Momentum receives a significant increase when passing through a ninth-chevron address, and so their bodies become projectiles. Rush strikes the ground harshly, rolling and coming up in a disoriented sprawl of limbs. The oscillating blue glow of the open 'gate illuminates the structure that is the ninth-chevron's purpose. Immediately he traces the lines of their destination's manufacture - the walls dark, curved and neatly angled, arcing stairwells rising gracefully to meet at the central point of an overlooking platform. Ancient. In the truest sense of the term.
A ship. A city or a building or a ship.
He breathes in, pulling in crisp air, the clean, icy chill settling darkly into his lungs. Pure. Fresh. Unused. Unexplored, the raw potential bared to him.
The room is silent, save for the wet ripple of the 'gate and the cadence of their breathing. Their. Plurality is, sadly, ideal. Rush scans the vicinity for any other survivors, but when the 'gate discharges no one else he feels he may assume that he and Asadi are, apparently, the only two to come through. He would have preferred a greater number of survivors for the purposes of achieving optimal productivity levels, but this will have to be adequate.
"The ninth chevron," he says, surveying the room with evident satisfaction. "It worked."
no subject
Momentum receives a significant increase when passing through a ninth-chevron address, and so their bodies become projectiles. Rush strikes the ground harshly, rolling and coming up in a disoriented sprawl of limbs. The oscillating blue glow of the open 'gate illuminates the structure that is the ninth-chevron's purpose. Immediately he traces the lines of their destination's manufacture - the walls dark, curved and neatly angled, arcing stairwells rising gracefully to meet at the central point of an overlooking platform. Ancient. In the truest sense of the term.
A ship. A city or a building or a ship.
He breathes in, pulling in crisp air, the clean, icy chill settling darkly into his lungs. Pure. Fresh. Unused. Unexplored, the raw potential bared to him.
The room is silent, save for the wet ripple of the 'gate and the cadence of their breathing. Their. Plurality is, sadly, ideal. Rush scans the vicinity for any other survivors, but when the 'gate discharges no one else he feels he may assume that he and Asadi are, apparently, the only two to come through. He would have preferred a greater number of survivors for the purposes of achieving optimal productivity levels, but this will have to be adequate.
"The ninth chevron," he says, surveying the room with evident satisfaction. "It worked."