"Is nothing sacred?" calls out the tainted Stark from the stairs, shocking Noranti into dropping the lid again. The very question is gross, coming from him. "You wanna deal with Stark, you're gonna have to deal with me." Bad Stark grabs Rygel by the throat, and starts choking him. Shut up, Evil Stark. Gross. "You pompous little Dominar of Nothing! I'm gonna rip your tiny little heart out." If Stark connects you to Heaven, what's this bitch do? Noranti pulls a knife out of her skirts and throws it. Into Bad Stark's eye! Damn! It pokes out of the eyehole in his mask and he turns his head robotically toward her, and then back. Nasty white bioloid junk drips out of his face and mouth. I guess abominations fall under things you're allowed to kill, according to Noranti. I'll co-sign that. Fake images getting dropped left and right; lies turning back into truth, and Stark will be freed from his glass coffin, where he waits to bring his particular blend of awesome and bullshit back into the fold. Rygel gasps, "Thanks, Witch," and she nods. "My pleasure." Mine too! That was rad!
Staleek and Jenek walk around the Imperial Chambers, on comms with Grayza, who is quite quickly turning completely nuts. "Commandant Grayza, see reason," he pleads with her. On the Carrier, Grayza paces as Braca does console stuff. "Reason indicates that you have subverted this conference," she says in a clipped but crazy voice, "and with it, any chance of peace." Staleek calls her ridiculous: "Your vessel arms itself for battle, while we continue to operate under a banner of truce." "Reason," she snips back, "dictates that I not believe a single word you say." Grayza stares down into her Carrier, steeling herself for total death, as Staleek again asks her to reconsider. "Peacekeeper. Adhere to the name you have chosen for your kind." He turns to Jenek and says if they get hairy, to annihilate them without mercy.
Braca finally joins Grayza at her window and asks what the fuck she thinks she's doing. "Pursuing honor, Captain." Braca's like, "...Um? We're at peace, under truce...vastly outnumbered..." She turns on him, with the crazy very strong in her. "...And about to rewrite the course of history. Prepare to launch simultaneous salvos on every weapons system now!" I mean, you can see how she works. Peace, as long as you can, but backed into the corner like this? With John and Scorpius out of reach and no way to keep the Cold War going? Burn with revolution. Burn until there's nothing left. She's always thought of herself as the "only" this and the "only" that -- she's the only PK that really gets it, the only officer that wants peace as purely or as pragmatically as she wants. The thing about purity is that it's not sustainable, so if you predicate your identity, the thing that makes you you, on something like that, you're pretty much dead when they take it away. Which is all John was trying to warn her about: Where do you go when you can't get out? You change into something else. She can't; all her shapeshifting just made her harder and less flexible. She turned into Grayza, and now she's stuck that way. Braca backs away and turns to the Sergeant on deck, whispering something that you might just think are her orders.