[Mal wakes up alone - which, in the grand scheme of things, suits her just fine. It gives her enough time to check a few things before she has to interact with anyone. Another very good thing: this gives her time to decide whether or not she's angry.]

[In the end she is, just not enough to tell anyone about it explicitly.]

Hannibal's gone.

I'm sure this has been noticed and just not announced, or anything, so I thought I'd make it official now that I have the opportunity. His door's gone and he's not registering on the item anymore, so, while it's possible he might come back, it's probably better to assume that he won't.

So that's done with. Thank you for your time.

[. . . oh, there's the sarcasm, somewhere in the very last phoneme of time. She hangs up.]

spam } enclosure

[On the other hand, some change is good. She likes this kind, the melding and unifying and streamlining of things, enough that sometimes she thinks the Admiral almost knows what he's doing.]

[Then she remembers everything else he's done and that she hates him, but it's a beautiful moment while it lasts.]

[For now she's taking another moment not to remember, figuring out how to program this new room. It takes her a moment, but then the gorge outside the Kneck flickers into being before her, and she grins, toothy and very nearly content, because even without the fires of encamped men it brings back memories. Good and bad, but all very important.]

[The Kneck itself isn't there, so she goes to tread its high foundations, the expanse of ice-packed soil crackling under her sturdy shoes. She might stay here for a while and enforce loneliness, until she remembers how to talk to people.]