|
It was about that time for Wormhole to take a look around at places he's never been before. He enters from a shuttle that had taken him from Pyracan to the Olympus, having heard a few things or two about it. He is wearing his armor again, today, helmet retracted. A shiny slug pistol is holstered at his hip. The Merc makes his way through the cargo bay, glancing about. He spots a Zurlti, where he stops to study it.
Through Olympus docking bay entrance flies in Altor, landing gear extended which shrieks a bit with a puff of smoke as he lands on the central landing area and reverses his thrusters, maneuvering himself over to near where Varal and Tia are standing, the engines powering down, singing, "Be it ever so humble there's no place like home...."
Varal grunts. "If people can sneak up behind me on this station, then I'm not doing my job right in the first place. Or I have a boss with a perverse sense of humor," he says as he stands up, tapping idly on the grips of his pistols. "And, to be honest, I was busy doing something that did not involve paying attention for spies and other infiltrators." His eyes flick over towards Wormhole as he appears, giving the Riftwalker a once over. He then grins slightly at Tia, motioning with his head towards Wormhole. "Didn't miss that one, did I?"
The -BING- of the service lift's arrival rings out in the docking bay, and soon after a large red hekayti steps out. Everto stretches out his arms, wearing a big back apron over his garb that says 'Kiss the Cook' but with some black tape over the right side of the second 'o'. The strangely colored man scratches behind one of his horns as he heads towards the zurlti and reaches to scritch her behind an ear. "Hey there, Bast," he greets the feline as though she were just a really big housecat, "How you doin' today, furball?" An upward jut of his head is all the greeting Wormhole gets for the moment.
"Innit more diligent t'be watchin' fer folk n'matter wut yer doin'? Tia inquires, giving Varal a light slap on the back as she moves around to his left side. Jade eyes alight upon Wormhole, girl's head canting a bit, "Don' count if'n ye know yer bein' tested, does i'?"
Wormhole nods back to Everto, and his curious eyes glances over to the others, noticing Tia and Varal. He gives a nod to Tia and then looks to Varal, "Hello," he says in simple greeting.
The large starfighter begins to break apart, the forward fuselage forming into a pair of arms while a head rises from the main fuselage. The wings fold against the back as the engines split into a pair of legs, leaving a large robot in its place.
Altor finds a spot nearby to sit. "Heya V, T. Whassup?" he inquires as he settles in.
Varal grunts at Tiana. "My job is to watch my people and make sure they're doing a good job." He pauses. "But, I guess, your job is the same thing. So. Yeah. Okay. Right. Shut up." He then smiles brightly to Altor and Wormhole. Perhaps a bit too brightly. "Welcome to Olympus."
Bast thusly attended, Everto turns towards Varal and Tiana to greet them. And then stops short. Big Red peers at Varal for a moment as though he sprouted a second head and strafes so Tiana is between them before approaching. "Hey boss," he says to the woman, moving in for a big yet careful hug just for the fun of it. If he's allowed, it's accompanied by a little whisper into her ear.
A small nod is offered to Wormhole before Tia smugly smiles to Varal then turns her attention up to Everto. A snicker follows his whisper, the girl giving a light shake of her head. She reaches out to pat at Everto's side, head angling and a hand raising up as if listening to something over the comm in her ear, "'Scuse me." She murmurs to Everto before turning her back to the lot of them and speaking into her commlink, "Respond wit' protocol two. I'll be ready an' waitin' 'ere."
Almost everyone has been gathered in and around the security desk, though the service lift seems to be on it's way to pick someone up.
Altor looks a tad confused at Tia's comm traffic, but shrugs and thinks nothing of it. "How's everything been going around here, T?"
A shuttle has docked a minute or two back, clearing whatever passes for landing control and taxiing over to a small niche in the docking bay. Off of it comes mainly guys hauling cargo crates, but also Lucius Tullius Castus, with his big backpack, his rifle slung and his vest on. The man's helmet is clipped to a d-ring on his vest.
"Protocol 2 acknowledged, captain. Alerting public transports now." comes a reply to Tiana over the comm channel.
Varal nods to Tiana, then projects loudly: "Please be advised, traffic on and off of the Olympus is temporarily ceased as we will be activating our Otherspace Drive. Use of weapons is strictly forbidden aboard the Olympus, and we provide free storage. While we are transitioning to transit, you may want to find something to hold onto. Thank you."
The service lift rises, once again, with a couple of Olympus workers aboard.
Wormhole smiles to Varal, "Thank you," he states. His eyes gaze around the the bay once more, and stops on the Zurlti again, and his gaze then returns back to Varal, since he was the one to address him first. He is silent for a moment, and then his lips part. Wormhole is wearing his usual armor, with his slug pistol at his side. "Protocol?" He asks curiously, before a pause happens again, as he gathers the information, "Ah...where we heading to if I may ask?" He states.
Rillitan Ryoleli is one of those workers, and he proceeds to navigate a hovercart off of the service lift before letting one of the pad crew take care of it. He wipes his hands off and moves over to Tiana, "Sommit t' trouble, darlin'? 'eard t' comm's chatter."
DS-3633 steps off of that last shuttle as well. The mechanoid looks around, scanning the area. Its red eyes dimly flash a few dozen times in the space of a second. Then it steps away from the shuttle and begins walking.
"Protocol 2?" Everto murmurs, raising an eyebrow as he looks from Tiana to Varal and then around. "Well lovely," he remarks. He speaks into his own comm, "Yo, skippy, secure the kitchens. We're about to race light, baby." "Stop calling me that, Red." The hekayti moves to a wall and finds something to hang onto.
Tullius Castus's eyebrows knit at Varal's words. "What in the fuck." DS gets a dirty look from over the Martian's shoulder - he would have stayed well away from the Phyrrian on the flight. He somehow catches Rillitan's voice in the bay, and upon spotting him talking to Tia walks slowly their way.
Rillitan's hand is grabbed at and Tia pulls him aside just slightly. Another tug is meant to pull him closer down to her height, the girl leaning up on her toes to whisper in Timonese to her husband.
Altor drags over a fuel barrel and cracks the top open like a can of beer, and takes a few sips while watching the activity in the bay.
Rillitan complies with Tiana's tugging, leaning down so she can whisper to him. He might even give her a peck on the cheek; a well hidden one. You wouldn't want anyone knowing, would you?
Varal shakes his head at Wormhole. "I'm not privy to that information at the moment."
Tullius Castus patiently waits his turn near Tiana and Rill. Varal gets a nod of recognition, though the look on the Martian's face says it's probably of the vague sort.
Altor looks down to DS. "Your guess is as good as mine, bub." Altor says, taking another swig of fuel from the barrel.
"Your momma's house," Everto offers up brightly.
Wormhole frowns slightly, a wave of distrust coming onto his features, but he offers no hostile or aggressive stances. He takes a seat somewhere, as he prepares for the jump. "I see," he states. He looks to Tullius, and offers a nod.
The docking hub shifts for a moment as the Otherspace engines propel the large ship into an FTL jump. The air polarises and shifts, though nothing would appear to change, and a feeling akin to vertigo flushes throughout those least accustomed to space travel.
Varal grunts a warning at Everto. "Don't make me send you back to the kitchens without dinner," he says somewhat cheerily. He looks back at Wormhole. "You're a Riftwalker?"
DS-3633 nods once in response to the various useless answers. It seems unaffected by the jump to FTL. "This unit seems to have chosen an inopurtune time to visit Olympus," it says in its mechanical voice.
Wormhole nods to DS, "I tend to agree, however...always interested in travel to places I've never been before..." He shrugs and then looks to Varal. "Yes, I am," he says in response. The hint of distrust is still on his face, and he looks around the cargo bay, looking for...something, but also nothing in particular as he considers everything he sees.
"Might as well make the best of it." Altor says to DS, finishing the fuel barrel with a last gulp and crushing it on his forehead before tossing it in a nearby bin of scrap. "Besides, it's not that bad."
Tullius Castus returns Wormhole's nod, with a bit of a smirk. "Business bring you here?" He inquires politely.
Everto blinks at Varal. And then he laughs. "Why can't you be like this more often?" the hekayti asks with a grin. He looks over Wormhole then. "Oh a riftwalker? Wicked, I haven't met one of those yet. You're made of dust and shit, right? Can I poke you?"
Varal smiles at Wormhole. "Be advised that we have a strict policy concerning psionics here. Please avoid using them." He pauses before addressing the crowd in general, "More likely than not, we're moving to pick up a shipment or we are moving to a more lawless region because the boss has to make a deal. So we may be going essentially nowhere." The smile fades as he looks at Everto. "I wouldn't want to spoil you."
Wormhole shakes his head at Tullius, "Curiosity, you could say...always looking for a good place of business, though." He shrugs, and then his eyes turn to Everto, giving his own blink, "That is correct...well, our shell is made out of dust but the majority of our 'mind' is pure energy," he states. And, well, he blinks again at the request to be poked, "As long as you don't use...anything pointed, I suppose..." It even felt odd accepting a request to be 'poked'. He looks to Varal. "I do not use my abilities unless I need to...mostly in self-defense," he says, re-assuringly.
"I imagine this is as good a place as any for a good armoursmith, to be honest. Just, yeah, mind your Ps and Qs. They don't really like to take shit here. More than other places. Other than that... well, I know the lady running it, so sometimes I just drop in." Lucius frowns as he looks around. "Obviously at the wrong time."
One hand reaches down to fiddle with a device at her belt, a small green light replacing the almost imperceptible red one, as Tia smiles up to Rillitan, "Prepare to proceed t' phase two." She murmurs over comms before turning to look to Lucius, grinning.
De Olympus is now safely een FTL travel. We apologize for dis unscheduled flight and would like to alert our passengers dat possible hostiles were picked up in Pyracan space. Passengers will be informed once communication can be resumed with de local navy. Remember, our cafeteria provides de best in Outverser cuisine in all of Hiverspace."
Everto heads over and gives Wormhole a good solid prod in the shoulder. "That's kind of cool," he remarks, "What's your name, Dusty?"
Rillitan frowns, looking sidelong at the rest of those gathered near the security checkpoint and glancing between them. He rises a brow as he glances between Tullius and Wormhole. "Ah." He manages, "I don't 'ave m' gun on m', sweets. You got sommit I can use?"
DS-3633 nods one. "This unit does not have anywere else to be. This trip is not an overall inconvenience." It looks up at Altor once more and says to the big robot, "You do not appear to be Phyrrian. Do you come from a species of mechanical lifeforms or are you a creation of another species?"
Tullius Castus smiles wanly at Tiana in response to her grin, dropping his bag down while he waits for her to finish... whatever she's doing. Though the smile does dissapear at Rillitan's words. An eyebrow arches up. His hands, at his belt level, tense up. He takes a step to the side, away from the others.
Altor looks over to DS. "Creation, actually, but hell it's been so long." he says.
Wormhole otherwise didn't hear the words of Rillitan. He instead looks to Everto as he pokes his armor. "Wormhole," he states with a smile. He looks to Tullius and gives an awkward look, "What's wrong?" He frowns slightly at the man's action, and he tenses up himself. He looks to Altor, but not giving any form of greeting as he tries to figure out the situation at hand. He turns to look at the others.
Varal smiles extra broadly at Wormhole. "Thank you for confirming your identity, Mister Wormhole. If you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you laid down on your stomach and put your hands behind your head. If you try something, this situation becomes much more entertaining for me - so I advise that you comply. We would like to . . . have word." A pistol appears in either hand of the Fastheldian, as he watches with amusement.
Everto steps away from Wormhole a bit and removes his apron casually, draping it over a nearby crate and following up with his jacket. The massive dented baseball bat at his hip is loosed, as well as the toveil amp pistol at the other one. "Sorry bro," he tells the Riftwalker lightly, "Best to cooperate, right?"
Altor clues in by now as to what's going on, and he stands up ready to assist if needed, his forearms opening and revealing a pair of pulse cannons that slide out and lock into place, turning his arms into a pair of weapons.
DS-3633 steps slowly away from the drawn weapons and Wormhole. "This unit is remaining neutral in this encounter," it states, observing the situation cooly.
Tullius Castus drops to the other end of the expresion spectrum, now, and frowns deeply. "Looks like I walked into an interesting situation." He remains tense. He's outnumbered and not really on anyone's side here, which makes him all the more suspicious of what's going on. He takes a few more steps away from Wormhole and all of the weapons, moving out of their arcs of fire. "Yeah. I'm with the bot on this one." Despite the fact that he's plainly uncomfortable with Phyrrians, he shimmies towards DS anyways.
Wormhole glances to Tullius and then to Everto. He then eyes Varal, with a cautious eye, the blue glow turning into a crimson red. After brief moments of consideration, he so happens to follow directions from Varal, and lays down on his stomach, placing his heads over his head.
"'Course, darlin'." Tia offers up to Rillitan, hand reaching around to the gun hidden beneath her shirt, holstered at the small of her back. A revolver - quite the contrast to the DS pistol on her hip. It's offered up to Rillitan before the girl turns, the green light of an activated psi-blocker glaring from her belt.
Varal nod to Lucius and DS. "Thank you," he says sincerely before looking back at Wormhole. He looks over his shoulder a moment, to make sure he has back, before he holsters his pistols and takes out a plastic wrist tie and puts it on the Rifterwalker's wrists. He takes a step back and looks towards Tiana. "He's all yours, Commodore." Hands return to resting on the pistols, but they're no longer drawn.
Altor keeps his arm cannons trained on Wormhole as he's taken into custody, his optics focused on him intently.
"Thanks," Rillitan nods to his wife, taking the revolver and giving the barrel a cursory spin. He turns, taking a few steps over to the Riftwalker and chuckling, "Been a little while, ain't it?"
DS-3633 watches the situation. There is no expression on its face. In fact, it could make no expression if it wanted to. It just watches for now. The unit has no weapons, visible or on any type of scan.
"Commodore, eh?" Lucius glances to Tiana when her title is called out, but his attention drifts back to the general situation unfolding in front of him. Regardless of his proclaimed neutrality, his right hand rises to clasp on his rifle's sling. He doesn't do anything with it, just holds on to it. "Tia, when you got a minute."
Everto just waatches silently for a few moments, content to play backup. Although suddenly he grins. "Is /this/ why you're in such a weird mood?" he asks of Varal brightly, "You were all giddy to kick some ass, weren't you?"
"Welcome, darlin'." Tia offers up to Rill before looking to Lucius. She gives a small chuckle despite the situation, offering to the other Martian, "Military, innit? Mostly ah jus' liked i' an' decided 'at were our top rank, though." She smiles once more to Tullus, then steps closer to Wormhole to make sure he's in the suppression field. She says nothing to the Riftwalker, however, letting her husband take the lead.
Varal gives Everto a scowl while still paying attention to Wormhole. He crosses his arms, also content to let Rillitan take the lead.
Wormhole frowns, "You have no reason to restrain me," he says genuinely, though with every moment he grows increasingly more agitated. "So this was the real reason of the trip, aye?"
"I doubt this is without reason, bub, so I think you'd better cooperate if you want this to go smoothly." Altor says. "Trust me, you don't want to see hard." he says, the cannons never wavering.
"Naval. RNS used it. Just under Admiral." Lucius replies to the other Martian, his tone short, clipped and business-like. Then he says something in Latin to follow it, eyebrows knitting. Even with difference in languages, the tone is quite a bit more angry sounding.
Everto waves off the scowling. He seems to be in a merry old mood. He takes his bat off his hip and slowly waves it in small circles to entertain himself.
To Lucius Tiana tenders a reply in Latin, her brow pulling together as she gives the other Martian a shake of her head.
DS-3633 speaks up. "As a neutral party in this matter, I offer my services as a trained mediator to settle any grievences without violence."
"We don't need no reason, Rifter." Rillitan replies to Wormhole with a dark look, spinning the cylinder of that revolver ever more as he crouches down besides the Riftwalker so he can lower his tone from 'normal' to 'menace'. The Timonae cocks his head, turning it parallel with Wormhole and pulling a mock sad face. "We don't need t' answer t' nobody, this is our vessel, see. Thought we might 'ave lost our chance t' snag y' when y' disappeared on us, but y' been makin' awful lots o' noise about Hiverspace. Easy man t' track, especially when y' walks back t' our hands all fair like. Now see, you done upset some folks back on the Galleria. You decided it were sommit in your comprehension t' get involved. That were a mistake." He pauses, glancing up at the robot as he offers his assistance and frowning. "What'd be t' point in doin' this /withou'/ violence?"
Varal shifts his attention more to Lucius as Rillitan begins to routine.
Altor cocks an eyeridge as Rillitan speaks to Wormhole. "You mean this is the guy?" he says, his optics flashing. "All the better...." he says, his voice lowering to a growl.
Tullius Castus grunts, snorts and shakes his head. He motions towards Wormhole. Or Rillitan. Or the both of them. Then he replies, again in his native tongue. Far be it from the Classical tongue of Livy and Marcus Aurelius, this is a harder, rougher and more slang filled tongue.
Tiana Ryoleli curls her lip up a bit, the same slang filled tongue flowing as easily from her as it had Tullus'. Another shake of her head, and some slightly narrowed eyes has the girl making a slightly worrying sound at the other Martian.
DS-3633 ignores the exchange between Tullius and Tiana, or at least appears to. To Rillitan it replies, "Violence is unnecessary and causes negative outcomes that can be avoided. I will not push the matter. This unit is merely offering its services." It grows silent again.
Wormhole there is a long pause from him, it almost seems like there was not going to be a response from the rifter. "I'd rather be thrown in space than aboard this shitty tin can, or anywhere else, for that matter," he states and glowers at anybody in his line of sight.
"I'm pretty sure that could be arranged.. though sealing you in a bulkhead like Comorro wanted to sounds like an awfully good idea right about now." Altor says, his optics narrowing. "Not up to me though... so if I were you I'd listen to what the man has to say."
Tullius Castus doesn't answer whatever Tiana's said. For now, he watches with a dismayed expression, frown becoming more pronounced when Wormhole speaks. "Dii immortales..."
"Mouthing off to the people who hold your life in their hands - kinda stupid," Everto remarks with a chuckle, "Just saying."
"Shut up Lucius. You ain't got a word in this, 'specially no' one outta' spoken tongue." Rillitan comments sidelong before looking back to Wormhole and frowning, "I think t' question is, whut do we do wi' you?"
"Let me offer a word of advice, Riftwalker. Eat your humble pie, and you will walk out of here more likely than not in one piece. But, I think it goes without saying that you have made a lot of people with varying degrees of influence very angry," Varal says softly. "You're running out of second chances."
DS-3633 remains silent and watches.
"Let 'im stew." Tia suggests gently to Rillitan, one hand reaching to hook a finger into one of his belt-loops, "Give 'im time t'think 'bout all 'e's done. See if'n any ah i' sinks in."
Wormhole grits his 'teeth' and there is another moment of consideration. "I admit I was at the wrong place at the wrong time," he states, "But matter is, I was just going shopping, only to be shot at by filthy Nall...the crate was not meant for her or anyone else, besides the Nall," he states, apologetically. "I will listen to what you have to say, though..." The offer is genuine.
Tullius Castus doesn't say anything back to Rillitan in Terran Standard, simply continuing to watch instead. He does mumble something short in Latin, though, but whether this is aimed at the Timonae or not isn't really clear.
Altor keeps his weapons trained, letting Rillitan deal with the Riftwalker.
Varal looks towards Tiana, following orders like a good Security Chief.
Tiana Ryoleli looks up to Rillitan for a moment, the blocker on her belt removed and clipped to his instead before she moves over to Lucius. Reaching for his hand, she murmurs back to him, reply tendered in the same tongue.
"This *ain't* the right time t' talk *above* m'," Rillitan states flatly, standing away from Wormhole and placing a boot on his back as he stares flatly between Lucius and Tiana. "I need y' hear, love. This ain't my fight, an' Mika meant nothin' t' me."
Tullius Castus shakes his head at Tia, his expression dismayed. "Later."
Varal nods. "He's your mark, Tiana. We can put a bow on him, if you would really like, but it would be harder to have him wrapped in a less convenient package."
Tiana Ryoleli herself looks a little bit dismayed as she gives Lucius a nod, stepping away from him and back to Rillitan. An apologetic smile is offered with a quiet, "Sorry, love." For a good long moment Tiana just stares down at Wormhole, finally offering, "Y'mean t'ave me believe 'at ye jus' accidentally threw a crate at m', when ah were in t'exact opposite direction ah t'Nall. Darlin', if ye jus' wanted t'shop, ye woulda kept yer bloody 'ead down an' kept yer nose outta i' entirely. This is wut bein' a white knight garners ye. An' 'at's somm't ah think ye need t'think long an' bloody 'ard on."
Wormhole sighs slightly, "I've never used my psionic powers in the regards of throwing objects at things...forgive me...that was a new feat for me," he says, "And...unfortunately, my boss was there...I wasn't going to not do something..." He sighs slightly.
Rillitan muses on that, dropping down to Wormhole once more and frowning at him, "You're sayin' ye' jumped in an important firefigh' an' started tryin' t' use y' powers y' ain't used before? So's y' endangered our lives on a gambit 'cause ye' /'ad t' do sommit/?!" He shakes his head, "S'at kind o' stupid tha' gets folk walkin' round wi' Polydenum in a shippin' crate. Innit. That kind o' stupid that draws people in t' workin' wi' t' people they fucked aroun' with. Innit. Rifter - /you're/ a danger. T'more than you shoul' be responsible f'r."
The Timonae stands again looking at his wife and giving Wormhole a hard prod with his heel. "I says we strap a blocker on 'im an' vent 'im int' space." "You'se goan stay wit' us fer a spell, an' we's goan 'ave a bit o' a talk later about not bein' a dipshit." Tia assures Wormhole with both brows raised, the girl looking to Rillitan after a moment, "Migh' do, but ah ain't rightly done 'avin' a word yet. Want 'im moved fer nah though. Ain't naught but a lot o' quiet time t'consider yer actions."
"I will be confiscating any weapons and armor you have, for the time being. Tiana will decide if you get hem back, I suppose," Varal says.
Wormhole sighs, again. "I've had plenty of time...my powers are much improved, and, even then I have used them before...as I said, I've never used them, to inflict damage on others, and as I said, it had nothing to do with Mika...he was wounded when I got there...check the recordings," he states. "Is this really just about my little mis-hap with the crates? Or you just being a god damn racist moron?" He grumbles. He's getting tired of this stuff...very tired.
"Tia," Everto chimes in, "Can I club the mouthy little prick with a bat the next time he starts getting insulting? Or this time?"
"He?" Rillitan grunts, "Mika was a woman, an' I ain't racist. I'm just /not nice/." And with that, he fires the revolver down into the Riftwalker's shoulder.
Varal takes a step forward, then winces and scowls as Rillitan fire the pistol. "Watch hwere you point that thing," the Palisadian states as he moves in to remove any easily accessible weapons Wormhole might have.
Altor smirks a bit as Rillitan fires the pistol into Wormhole's shoulder. "Point of advice, bub, don't piss off the people aiming guns at you."
The loud bang following by a sharp pain travels throughout his body...though luckly the armor does some good in slowing down the bullet. He growls and well, can't do nothing quite yet as he can't move due to certain things. The pistol at his side would be the only weapon on him at the time. He ignores Altor and his mind seems to wander off.
"Oh Lin save m'. Is i' really t'only defense ye got, cryin' 'at i' ain't aught but racism? Ye think it's any excuse fer yer idiocy sayin' ye jus' weren't experienced usin' yer abilities? Ye think tha' jus' makes i' /all bloody okay/?" Tia may be just a /little/ manic by now, "This is about /you/ an' wot /you/ cost m', an' sittin' 'ere actin' like ye can't be 'eld responsible jus' ain't goan git ye anywhere." Half turning towards Rillitan, the small Martian clenches her fists, line of her jaw tightening.
In addition, Ti also offers to Everto, "If ye like, darlin'."
"Great. Thanks, boss," Everto nods. His mood drops, however, as he watches Tiana. "Maybe we should get him situated fast, huh? Give everyone a chance to calm down and think some."
Rillitan gives Tiana a specific look, it's stern - but there's something in it that hints to Tiana she should slow down. Leaning forward and pulling Wormhole up by his strapped hands, little regard paid to any comfort he might feel, the Timonae nods. "On yer word, love. I'll take him below deck t' prison cell an' watch 'e doesn't try nothin' funny. Rifter's need medical care?" He questions, "Don't want 'im bleedin' energy or wot."
Varal takes a step back, fiddling with the pistol he removed from Wormhole. He motions for some security to go with Rillitan. "Also, get the armor off of him, eventually."
Wormhole grumbles at the mention of his armor having to be removed taken. He sighs slightly and just waits to be taken to a cell...again.
"Please take 'im down, love." Tia offers quietly to Rillitan, wane smile offered up to the Timonae, "Think s'time ah 'ad a cuppa tea, yeah?" Rill's question recieves a shake of her head, as it seems she doesn't know if Riftwalkers need medical aid or not.
Rillitan leads Wormhole to the service lift, grunting as he does (as he is wont to do).
Wormhole has no other choice but to follow Rillitan to the service lift...well, unless he didn't mind dying.