On return to the Bellerophon, Gabriel sends Layth to fetch PC Caravelli before bringing Tasha directly to the med-bay. He points to one of the Terran medical beds, and says, "Lie down so I can run the scanner." He hasn't said much at all on the journey back from the Khattan zone.

"With or without the suit?" Asks Tasha, who hasn't spoken much either. Of course, she had been drifting in and out of consciousness, from exhaustion and lack of sleep, but even so, she's been uncharacteristically quiet. Eyeing the bed, the woman tries not to watch Gabriel, fearing his further disapproval.

"Without," the wolf notes, then in gentler tone asks, "Do you need help getting out of it?"

Tasha's ears wilt at Gabriel's initial tone, but the kinder one brings them back up a little. "This is where I beat Nora and get out of my suit on my own," she replies. It strikes her a second later the joke is probably in poor taste, and likely with some of her bitterness showing through; Unable to change the past for a joke any more than she could for all the other mistakes, horrors, and sadness, she just shrugs in her suit and lets it go.

Tasha sets down a glossy black case, retaining another similar box which she extracts a datapad – or data slate as the Coalition calls them – and talks briefly to it before going about removing her powered armor.

It takes time, and Dr. Caravelli's PersoCom arrives before Tasha finishes. By the time she's done, she notices that the pressure door to the med-bay has been closed so nobody else can just wander in.

Tasha eyes that door; It makes her feel a little trapped. Not wanting to think about that too much, she wraps her arms around herself and begins inspecting her powered armor for signs of damage. The inspection allows her to accomplish another important task: not looking anyone in the eye.

"I'll 'ave to polish this," she mutters, eyeing where some smoldering metal glanced off the chest. "Hi, Doctor."

"Hello, Tasha," PC Caravelli replies, and holds up a diagnostic tool that looks like a metal pencil with a lens at the tip. "How are you feeling?" he asks, as he shines a light from the device into each of Tasha's eyes.

Tasha's eyes reflect the light as Karnor eyes do, but they're very different from lupine eyes past this surface detail. Somewhat wider, and certainly longer, they contain the complex lens and receptor array that allow the woman to see with near-raptor like quality. "I'm tired, my 'ead 'urts, an' Gabriel's mad at me," she reports, with tempered gloom. "Bu' it's not 'ard to think why – you know abou' the surgery?"

"Not yet I don't," the faux-Karnor says, consulting a readout on the side of his device. "Your cortisol is high, along with adrenal byproducts and other fatigue poisons. Glucose is low. You've been very upset and active I see," he notes, and only then touches Tasha's head to turn it enough to expose the contacts on the back of her skull. "Hmm, interesting."

"They connect to tattoos tha' run across my body," the woman continues, eyes flicking to watch the doctor. "I 'ad Medical One below the Khattan/Vartan launch bay do it, followin' the instructions. The system works, bu' they said somethin' about the network bein' unsecured." In truth, Tasha knows more about the network than she feels comfortable admitting. Explaining she left it unsecured as a measure of faith and sacrifice to her chosen Titan seems a hard sell to the two Karnors, and likely to further upset her mate given she inadvertently failed to show him trust. That her reasons were complicated, she doesn't feel able to explain right now.

"Well, we'll soon see just what else they connect to," Remiel notes. "Why don't you lie back now, since sitting up is probably already a strain in your condition."

"Thank you," Tasha breathes, relieved. She walks over to the Karnor bed and, with some effort, pulls herself on to it before rolling over, face up. Her wings, even folded, angle off the table – not a bed designed for Vartans.

With Gabriel's help, Caravelli rolls over something that looks like a robot arm holding a lamp. Once it's connected to the bed, it comes alive and waves the elongated, glowing wand over Tasha from head to toe, sweeping multiple times at different angles.

"No implants along the neural surface sensors," Caravelli reports as he looks at the display of the tattoos, is if they were separate from Tasha's skin. He tweaks the display, and a 3-dimensional, translucent diagram of Tasha's brain appears, half-covered with a silvery net.

The woman eyes the roving light stick with some bemusement. Although she's seen many technological wonders, it seems to her new finds are no less puzzling and impressive. "I 'ad some alcohol too. It's good, Vartan alcohol." As the image starts to display, she looks over, eyes widening. "Tha's my 'ead? The inside? I's no' glowin' is it?"

"We wouldn't know if it was glowing," Caravelli comments, and points to the image. "Nanowire electrode intrusion in all sensory and motor areas, surface only," he reports, then adjusts controls until things become more transparent – which reveals a long wire snaking around into the very core of Tasha's brain before fanning out into another net. "Limbic intrusion," Remiel reports, sounding a bit concerned. Gabriel all but scowls. More tweaking causes the brain to glow in various colors in different areas. "There's been a lot of emotional activity, but… I can't say for sure if there's been a memory implant or modification. There aren't indicators of direct encoding, but it could all be in short-term still."

Becoming lost after 'nanowire,' the red woman stares blankly at the screen as the Doctor goes on. When he finishes, she asks in a bewildered voice, "Wha's that all mean? Why are you looking angry?"

"Your brain is wired to be completely taken over, Tasha," Gabriel points out. "Your emotions, memories, everything – they can be controlled or rewritten. Right now, you are even more dangerous than MOTHER was under the influence of alien crystals."

Tasha's eyes shoot wide, and she goes to speak – but pauses. Suddenly, every part of her feels like it may start acting of its own accord! A stark, deep terror sweeps over her, making her hackles raise and a chill run down her spine – a spine covered in the very wire that could control her. Slowly, she lifts a hand in front of her face, flexing it, wondering if it won't reach out and grab her – wondering if it's even her will that moves it. She tries to force herself to say something, but rare as it is, Tasha is speechless.

"I can't do anything about the wiring," Remiel admits. "This sort of neuro-tech is outlawed on Terra. If it's really still unsecured then the Khattan med-bay may be able to retract or cut off the limbic intrusion," he notes. "And I might be able to flush her short-term memory, but I've never had to do something like the before. Our drugs are meant to prevent memory retention from the moment of administration, not for affecting anything before that."

Gabriel growls, causing Caravelli to step back, although it doesn't seem aimed at anyone in particular. "It did something to her," he snaps. "She saw us, recognized us… and still aimed her weapon at us."

That makes Tasha speak up. "I did it because you were pointin' your weapons at me! First! I though' somethin' happened and you were there to shoot me, I was goin' to power my weapon down until you raised yours!" Frantic, she looks between the two wolves, her expression plaintive. "I'm no' some kind of crazy monster," she insists, "Why would Melchior do this to me??"

"Or, maybe it was the Khattans, … ," the woman adds, eyes searching. "Wait, Melchior is Khattan … "

"So… you just forgot that you were covered completely in alien armor?" Gabriel asks, stunned.

"Uh, this procedure they performed on you," Caravelli interrupts, "did they say it could be altered or reversed? The surface stuff is harmless, but the limbic intrusion is the dangerous part. That has to come out, one way or another."

"I 'ad jus' been fightin'! Do you know wha' was goin' on down tha' corridor?!" Sitting up, Tasha holds her hands out expansively. "We attacked the blue crystal 'crabs,' set them on fire to draw out the fire system, then the metal gods started attackin' everyone, there was thunder, and lightnin', and we were shootin' an' runnin'!" Shifting her gaze to her mate, Tasha all but whines at him, "Please, Gabriel."

Glancing at the PersoCom doctor, Tasha admits, "They said the network could be modified by the data slate, tha' it wasn' fixed yet. It said somethin' abou' this, tha' it might 'appen, bu' I didn' wan' to … um, well … I … I wasn' sure."

"Is it silly of me to ask why you did this without even consulting your doctor?" Caravelli asks, head cocked slightly.

"I was … mad," the young woman offers, sheepishly. She knows it's a lame excuse, but at the time it meant everything. "I was … I was tired of bein' told I wasn' doin' things right. I 'ad done things before all this," feeling some of her previous anger, Tasha's eyes flash, " … and I still could!"

Gabriel doesn't seem in very forgiving mood at the moment. He touches his neck com and says, "Mariel? Clear Tasha's access codes until further notice." A second later, the youngest Karnor's voice replies, "Done, captain. What about Nora, sir?"

"You are still to take over her duties until I decide what to do with her," Gabriel barks, and breaks the connection.

Tasha frowns deeply when her codes are revoked, but doesn't protest the move. When Nora's mentioned, though, she sits up and says, "Hey! You can' jus' punish Nora! This was between us!"

"Nora didn't report that you had stormed off the ship," Gabriel grumbles. "This isn't the place for insubordination and temper tantrums, damn it all! We are in a hostile environment where mistakes can be fatal."

"Ah … um … " Tasha takes a deep breath, then exhales, nodding as she lowers her head. "No, it's no' … You're righ' Gabriel. I guess I'll jus' … I don' know." She looks back at her hands, watching them move, wondering …

"What you are going to do, is rest," Gabriel says. "Remiel will give you a sedative and a nutrient drip if necessary. And when you are in good enough shape, we are going back to that Khattan infirmary and finding out if this can be fixed."

"Hokay… ," Tasha relents, too tired to argue. Exhausted, frazzled, afraid and now helplessly trapped aboard ship, there doesn't seem to be anything left for the woman to do but wait. She flops back down on the bed, then glances at the Karnors, "What if I … do somethin'? Like … MOTHER?" The very though she's anything like MOTHER sends a whole new wave of terror through the woman, making her whine softly.

"You're in quarantine for now, Tasha," Gabriel says, sounding very, very tired. "I've got Nora confined to quarters, at least for as long as she still follows orders. I know Mariel and Fred are involved in this fiasco somehow as well, but I can't afford to discipline them or I won't have any technical personnel left, except for Fallen Star!"

"Would you like a sedative, Tasha?" Caravelli asks. "It will allay your worries about doing anything you don't mean to. When you wake up, you'll be feeling better."

"So I … I ruined the ship?" On top of her previous miseries, the gut-wrenching knowledge she is central to bringing Bellerophon's preparation to its knees hits her like a punch in the gut. "You should jus' leave me 'ere," she sighs, reaching up to rub her face, eyes closing, "Let the Titan do wha' it was goin' to do, Jus' … " Her nearest eye flicks open, looking at the Doctor, and she nods. "Give me the stronges' you got."

"Nora screwed up," Akkers says, looking even more hurt. "Doc Z had me convinced she was like a real person now, but she's still mostly a PersoCom, and PerscoCom's can't make command decisions because they don't have very good judgment. The real Nora wouldn't have just let you storm out."

"Gabriel, no matter wha' I say, i' jus' won' fix this. I failed Nora, then I failed the ship. Jus' … Let me rest," Tasha says, sounding tired and defeated. "I'm tired of … bein' awake."

Before Gabriel can formulate a reply, Dr. Caravelli's PersoCom administers the sedative, and Tasha quickly falls into a dreamless sleep.

Despite the IV and hours of rest, Tasha is hungry when she regains consciousness. But the fatigue and residual stress is gone. No disturbing visions, machines or goddesses disturbed her sleep or fed her doubts.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Caravelli asks, as soon as Tasha shows signs of waking up.

"Mmm?" The red woman opens her eyes, feeling bleary but well rested. "I, where am … Oh." Her gaze flicks to the Doctor's face, then she frowns a little. "Oh." Her ears flick. "I feel better."

The man works a control on the side of the bed, so that it rises up so Tasha is in a semi-reclined sitting position. "Someone left you something," he says. "I can heat it up if you want." He gestures to a plate on a wheeled side-table, which has half of a cooked rabbit on it.

The woman turns to regard the platter, a small grin creeping across her face. "Blammo." She nods to the doctor, then asks, "Did I really do everythin' I think I did? I didn' jus' fall and whack my 'ead-" Head. Eyes widening, the woman asks with some force, "Doctor, wha' abou' my 'ead? I didn' … I'm no' dangerous am I? Still?"

Handing over the plate, Caravelli sits on a stool next to the bed. "Are you dangerous… Well, yes, but not because of wires in your head," he notes. "You're young, impressionable and impulsive. Although that's probably all redundant beyond the 'young' part. It makes you take risks," he explains.

"I … I guess so," Tasha agrees, never having her youth explained in such a straightforward manner before. She reaches over and pulls off a rabbit leg, then begins to nibble at it between questions. "Didn' you say there was a wire in me 'ead that made me dangerous? Li' … Li' MOTHER? Why would Melchior do tha' to me, an' for what? 'E only seemed interested in teachin' me to fight – to use tha' shaard – an nothin' else. I tried to be friendly, bu' e's … 'ard to make sense abou'."

"I don't know what Vartans are like now, but I did study them a little when I as at the Academy," Caravelli says. "One thing that stuck with me was their sense of family bond, and that they mated for life. When they fought, they fought as a family. If I were designing a Titan for a Vartan, I would be aware of the power of such an emotional bond. Did you know there are two kinds of intelligence, Tasha?"

"Is tha' why 'e kissed me?!" The Vartan's eyes shoot open – her Titan was trying to be her family … Or more! This revelation causes her to sit stunned for a moment, several seconds passing before she remembers the question posed to her. "My kind an' everyone else's?" She asks wryly.

The Karnor chuckles, and shakes his head. "There is Cognitive Intelligence, and Emotional Intelligence," he says. "Cognitive Intelligence is what we use to solve abstract problems, predict the future and figure out what other beings are thinking. Math, science, language… that is all Cognitive Intelligence. But far older is Emotional Intelligence, and it lives right in the limbic system in the middle of the brain, where everything passes though. It chooses what information gets remembered and what information even makes it to the Cognitive part of the brain."

"It is much, much faster than Cognitive Intelligence, and when the first Artificial Intelligences were made it became clear just how important Emotional Intelligence was," he points out.

Tasha looks a little bemused at this explanation, but nods slowly suggesting she might understand some of it. "So Melchior … is tryin' to be my family? Tha' why tha' wire is in my 'ead, because everythin' goes through where it is, is faster, an' it … makes me bond with 'im? Is tha' the kind o' memories he's tryin' to make?" To Tasha, the realization her Titan is trying to bond with her on such a strange, artificial level is both touching and disturbing. Further, she knows she had already been seduced by the machine before she ever spoke with it – and a part of her wanted to be lost in it, too. And so, she admits it.

"I didn' wan' to say this aroun' Gabriel, I was afraid o' wha' 'ed think after wha' I did, bu' … I knew the neural link was open. I knew Melchior could do this. I did i' because I … " Looking up from her meal, Tasha tilts her head as she meets the PersoCom's eyes, " … I wan'ed to be connected to i'. Tha' bon' you say, I always felt i' towards me ships as well as some people. I was afraid o' bein' alone after wha' I did – I knew i' was wrong. I wan'ed to hurt Nora, to … to not be Karnor … Bu' I didn' wan' to be alone."

"Hmmm, I think you have some other issues we should work on," Caravelli comments. "But it's not just a bond, Tasha. An AI can't make decisions in a purely rational manner. The first ones would lock up, using all of their mental resources to weigh and extrapolate every possible outcome of a decision in order to decide on a proper course of action. People would too, if not for Emotional Intelligence: it is what actually tells the Cognitive mind to stop thinking and choose. Soldiers, martial artists… well, warriors in general… condition themselves so that the faster part of their mind makes the decisions and reacts to them before their cognitive part even has to think about it. That's why you have a wire into your emotional nexus – not to influence or condition you, but so the Titan can react as fast as possible."

"Then you know why i's there? It's jus' for pilotin' better?" In a way, Tasha finds herself a little disappointed, and has to admit the Doctor is right. She knows that family bond, because she feels a little hurt her Titan may not have been trying to reach her after all, even with the problems that may have caused. Nodding, she says, "I guess I wan'ed 'im to trust me, too. I know I'm no' the pilot Melchior was promised, maybe no' tha' 'e deserves, bu' I wan'ed to show … I'd give somethin' if 'e'd accept me. Give somethin' back, to show I meant it. Does tha' make sense?"

"It sounds to me like you subconsciously wanted to be controlled," Caravelli replies. "The other problem is that you aren't a trained warrior, so your immediate, emotional reactions will be chaotic and of no use in piloting, compared to your thought out ones. Can you tell me about your parents?"

"My parents?" The woman blinks, not having expected to be asked about Desdimona and her unknown father. "Well, me mum's a Vartan – a true Vartan, big an' red an' like me. Me father, I don' know. Mum said 'e's some noble she met once, bu' I think she said tha' to make me feel good abou' i'. E' coul' be any Karnor on Rephidim or beyon'."

"Who raised you then?" the doctor asks. "Just your mother?"

The red woman nods to that after taking another bite. "Me mum, aye. I was born on The Rake, an airship. You could say the ship was my family. There was the crew, too – an' Cap'n Eyeshine. I guess if anyone was li' a father, 'e was."

"A captain," Caravelli says, nodding a bit. "Someone in a position of responsibility and command. He'd give you orders, I imagine?"

"An' then some," Tasha confirms. "I don' jus' carry a whip aroun' for nothin', I was firs' drover before I lef' the ship to come 'ere. E' an' me mum were worried." Smiling a little sadly, Tasha tilts her head the other way and says, "Bu' nothin' bad 'as 'appened, right?"

"I'm just trying to understand you, Tasha," Caravelli says, smiling. "Was your captain a very affectionate father-figure, or did he maintain a professional distance? Did he hug you, tuck you into bed, dote on you in any way?"

The idea of Captain Eyeshine hugging, tucking her in, and doting on her makes Tasha suddenly laugh, nearly spewing a chunk of rabbit on to the floor. "Ha! No. Cap'n Eyeshine was business firs' an' likin' me secon', I think. I'm no' sure 'ow much 'e cared, 'cause 'e 'as a thing for me mum an' I'm jus' a reminder it wasn't 'im." The woman rubs her muzzle clean, then licks at her fingers. "Bu' I respected 'im. 'E was one o' few Vartan captains I knew. 'Im an' Blackwings."

"Hmmm," Caravelli goes, raising his eyebrows at Tasha's reaction. "So, did you want him to show you affection, or approval?" he asks.

"Uhh, … " The woman pauses, leaning back. She had never really thought about what she wanted Captain Eyeshine to show her, she thinks. Seconds later she realizes that's not right, not when she really thinks about it. "I guess … Well, maybe I did wan' 'im to be more li' a father? I wan'ed 'is approval, I 'ad to 'ave 'is approval, bu' i' would 'ave been nice if 'e was … More willin' to talk to me." Its been some time since she had last thought about her old Captain, and the memory of him makes her suddenly sad. A frown crosses her face, and she nods a little. "It seems li' there wasn' more than me mum talkin' to me, an' Beaky … An' Captain Eyeshine. Sometimes I wished 'e was my father, tha' I wasn't a half-blood. I wish I knew my father, bu' if 'e was a noble, e'd 'ave dodged me or worse."

"So, even though your biological father probably never knew about you, did you feel rejected all the same?" the Karnor asks, in a gentle voice. "I admit that you have struck me as a woman who is trying to prove her worth, and perhaps trying too hard to do it."

"You think so?" Tasha glances at the Doctor, brows raising. "Is it okay to tell you, with wha' Gabriel said abou' PersoComs?" She doesn't wait for an answer, instead just shrugging and admitting, "I always feel out o' place. I've never met anyone who looks li' me, an' everyone knows I came from somethin' no' proper to most. I'm a fatherless bastard, Cap'n Eyeshine was bein' kind just lettin' me stay on the ship."

"Oh, don't mind me," Caravelli says. "We all wear multiple hats, and I'm also the crew psychologist. If I had to guess, I would say your fear of rejection and need for affection led you to a lot of… well, meaningless relationships. Ones where you felt in charge, and which you broke off before there was a risk of rejection. Am I way off in that?"

"Oi, well … No, I guess not. I've never 'ad anyone say it tha' straight before – an I probably wouldn' 'ave un'erstood it without Nora's memories – bu' … I guess you're righ'. 'Avin' those men an' women made me feel wan'ed, you know? If people wan'ed me, tha' was li' carin', li' respect? Then I learned 'ow wrong I was, bu' … " The woman sighs. "I guess it's all still there, I'm jus' goin' abou' it differen'ly now."

"I think, perhaps, you're looking to Gabriel as more than you need him to be," Caravelli suggests. "He isn't your father, Tasha. You don't need to prove yourself to him in order to win his affection. You have that, and it's something that's given and not bought. You don't need to prove yourself to a phantom father either, to show that he was wrong to leave you."

Tasha' opens her mouth, but finds herself stunned by the surge of emotion Dr. Caravelli's revelation brings. She reaches to her face to find her eyes moist, and looks at the way the light glimmers off her wet paw pads as she pulls it away. "I, I know," she tries to insist, "Tha's … Tha's why I ran. Off the ship, I mean. I didn' wan' to run to 'im like 'e was my daddy. An' … I didn' wan' to let everyone see me cry." She breathes a sigh, letting her hand fall as she shakes her head. "An' I was tired of Karnors. Karnor Elites."

"You ran into Blammo," Caravelli notes, handing over a tissue. "Did you seek his affection, challenge him or try to be accepted? Or… maybe… you just were yourself?"

"Well, at firs' I wan'ed to fight with 'im. I 'oped he'd take tha' big Titan an' come aft'er me, or … I dunno, I jus' wan'ed something to hurt, I guess." Tasha wipes her wet hand against the tissue before wiping at her eyes. "Blammo was nice, though. 'E didn' wan' anythin' from me, didn't care if I said wha' I said, or did wha' i did. I even stopped talkin' like Nora. Then I found the bar an' I learned abou' my people's 'istory, an' … I was proud o' them again. But, I think I jus' felt easier aroun' Blammo. Maybe that's part o' why I was so … Nora's word's 'defensive' … when Gabriel came. Maybe it was li' all tha' comin' back at me?"

"It's hard to hate the Titanians when you aren't actually fighting them," Caravelli chuckles. "Gabriel worries about you and the Titan. But I think I know why you are so drawn to it. I don't know what Captain Akker's family was like growing up, but a lot of us early generation Karnors were raised in human families. Maybe Gabe didn't have any sisters in his, but I did. And when my human sister got to a certain age… well, she wanted a horse. I know now that it was about power and sexual awakening, but back then I couldn't understand why a girl would be so drawn to riding around on a huge animal. But it was about being in control of something masculine and powerful – basically, at a time when they had no control and felt the shadow of their fathers the strongest. The Titan, Melchior, is your horse, Tasha."

Tasha's ears shoot up; She hadn't thought of her Titan as a horse! A few months ago she'd have wondered if the Doctor meant a Rhian, but she now knows what Terran horses are, even if she can't imagine having one. What she can imagine having is a ship, or a ptera, both of which, she thinks, might be what Dr. Caravelli means. "Is tha' … bad, Doctor? Tha' 'es li' a horse? Or maybe for me, li' a ship or … ptera, maybe?"

"It isn't bad, so long as you don't think of it as more than that," Caravelli says. "It isn't a partner, or a friend, or really even a pet. It is something you use to fill a need and a function. And in time, you will outgrow the need for it. If it helps you to accept what you are, right now, then it is good. And right now, Tasha, you are a young woman, barely out of being a girl. And that's all you need to be, right now. Not a leader, or an ambassador, or someone carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. Let Gabriel love you, and love him back, and don't think you need to do anything more than that. That is my advice to you. You have a lot of growing up to do still, and a lot of time to do it. There are paths you can take, or not take."

Ears perked and focused on the man in front of her, Tasha listens attentively. She doesn't comment until he's done, taking the time to internalize what he's telling her, and deciding it does make a lot of sense. What's more, it makes her feel like much of the stress and burden she's felt ever since she arrived in Amazonia is falling away. "Not 'avin' to be all tha' … It's, … It's nice, isn' it." She rubs a thumb against her other hand, feeling the shaved tract that leads from her upper arm down to her pads. A horse. Just being a woman. Not a leader. Not anything else. She sighs, but it's not a defeated or burdened sound. No, she sounds relieved. "I think I … I get it, now."

"Don't worry about Nora, or living up to the image of the Karnor Elite, either," Caravelli says, and then leans in to whisper, "None of use could live up to it. We were the ambassadors of our generation, the images of what Karnors could be. It was mostly a lot of marketing and an incredible amount of stress. Nobody in their right mind would want to take on that sort of responsibility."

Tasha's eyes widen at the knowledge the Karnor Elite were just … marketing. It takes her a moment to remember what marketing is, but Nora's memories are more solid now and so it isn't long before she gasps. "You mean, all tha' … it was jus' … a big lie?" The idea makes the Vartan woman suddenly laugh so hard she nearly drops her rabbit leg. "I'm no sure if I shoul' laugh … maybe cry? … Ah-haha, it's jus' so funny. Ahh, jus' li' me. A big lie, to get others to think you're importan'." She coughs as her laughter chokes her, then wheezes, "I'm glad I'm a Vartan."

"It wasn't entirely a lie," Remiel says, sitting up a little straighter. "We were the best of our generation. But it was more that other Karnors needed a symbol to feel proud about, and the humans needed something to show the other races that Karnors deserved higher status." He gives Tasha a look, and then reaches over waves his hand over her left shoulder, and then over her right.

The woman lays her ears back, holding a hand up. "I didn' mean it was a lie, I know I said i' but … I didn' really mean i' like tha'. I'm no' so good with words some times, you kn-" When the Karnor starts waving his arms around her, she pauses to watch him curiously, then asks, "Wha'a are you doin'?"

"Checking for chips, of course," the Karnor says, and then grins and sits back.

"Wha' … Hey!" The woman makes a face, then shakes her finger at the man. "Jus' because I'm from Sinai an' you're from Terra doesn' mean I don' get tha'." Her muzzle then splits in to a faint grin, but she nods to the point a moment later. "Well, I guess I am bitter abou' some things. I guess I'm as much a Karnor as Vartan, so I ought an' be proud of Karnors, too. I jus' don' un'erstand them as well. Before I met you all, mos' of my run-ins with 'em weren' comfortable. A few were alrigh', an' one was really bad. I though' abou' tha', when I was leavin' the ship, even."

"Your father was a Karnor, so your mother must have felt they had some redeeming qualities," Caravelli jokes. "But I want to make sure you're comfortable enough now to not be overly sensitive to criticism… because I think you're going to be doing a lot of apologizing before this is over."

"I'm … no' sure I won' get angry. Whenever anyone's angry with me, i' jus' seems li' their anger makes me angrier, then i's all a mess before I know i'." Glancing at the door, Tasha frowns as she admits, "I wan'ed to tell Gabriel I was glad to see 'im, bu' he was so mad, I got mad, then 'e started revokin' my access an' treatin' me like I was someone else because of the wires in my brain an' … I jus couldn' say it." She breathes a sigh, shaking her head as she looks down. "Poor Gabriel. 'E worries abou' me, an' I point a gun at 'im, then run off to see if my Titan is well. Then this."

"Well, I can't say what he will do, only urge you to be honest with him," Caravelli says. "However, he's pretty much taken charge now. That's probably for the best if you want time to get your Titan ready for transport. Try not to feel bad or frustrated if he doesn't understand your need for it. He never had a daughter. But maybe Nora can explain it to him."

Tasha flattens her ears at the mention of Nora. "I need to talk to her, too. I … Well, she … Lemme think o' 'ow to explain. You won' tell anyone, will you? Don' you PersoComs talk to each other in … Computer space?" The woman looks up, questioningly. Then she blinks and adds, "Why is computer space so borin', anyway? It's always flat an two colors!"

The Karnor laughs at that. "Don't worry, anything you say to me is confidential, otherwise I wouldn't be the psychologist," he says.

The young woman smiles. "I'll trus' you on tha' then." The smile doesn't last as she begins thinking on how to explain what happened with Nora, which takes her almost half a minute before she begins. "Nora … She's my sister, aye? No' in the usual way, bu' we Vartans don's seem to care much abou' tha', no' li' some others. Bu' anyway, I wan'ed to talk to 'er, and we talked – I look up to 'er, you know that? – an' then we got to the part about 'ow the Expedition fell apart, an' the ideas for beginnin' the Joint Expedition again, an' … She … She decided to push for knowin' abou' 'ow she died. I … I was in tears when I finally told 'er. It's no' somethin' I deal with well … I … Um … I should tell you somethin' else, too … So I'll tell you now, an' maybe you'll un'erstan' the res' better."

After taking a deep breath, Tasha explains, "I wan'ed to 'elp 'er with 'er death. I feared her goin' mad, I feared seein' it. An' I feared knowin' tha' someone li' 'er could die. It mean we all could, an' I couldn' stan' tha' thought. I know 'ow to meditate, so I used the crystal room to do i' … An' the artifact spoke to me. We talked, i' said i' was jus' me talkin' to me … Bu' i' knew things, i' knew everything anyone who 'ad ever touched i' knew. An' … I' knew wha' death was like … " Gritting her teeth, Tasha looks down, finding her hands clenched. "I asked i' to show me." Her ears flattem, face strained. "An' … It did."

"A powerful experience, from what I've learned," Caravelli says. "It doesn't sound like it made it any easier for you to accept, though?"

"No … I don't know wha' i' made me, except tha' I saw 'ow precious life was. The memory's fadin', I guess memories li' tha' lose a lot after a while, bu' I remember some o' it." Looking off, Tasha can almost see her sister sitting on her bed, wondering what her fate will be. It makes her heart ache, even as she's about to relate why she struck her. "Nora pushed an' pushed, an' I couldn' 'old 'er back – she's really stubborn! – an' then I jus' … I jus' told 'er. An' there I was, waitin' for the wors', waitin' to see if she wen' mad or destroyed the ship or wha' not. I even tried to get 'er to give 'er codes up, jus' li' Gabriel did to me, bu she wouldn' an' … I was weak." Closing her eyes, Tasha tilts her head back, grimacing. "I knew tha' was the righ' choice." Her head shakes. "Anyway, I tol' 'er … and then she said … Said 'ow disappointed she was. 'Ow I failed at that! 'Ow I failed at tellin' her something I dreaded because I cared! It as a test to 'er, she was testin' me!"

Growling, Tasha opens her eyes and turns to stare at the Doctor. "All my fears, everythin' I did … She already knew! She used tha' to tell me I was bad at tellin' people bad news – tha' I was bad at carin' about 'er! Then I … I PUNCHED 'er 'as 'ard as I could. I hated her then, I 'ated everythin' So, I left. I ripped my collar off an' left."The young woman growls.

Caravelli nods, and asks, "Tell me, Tasha; have you ever met another woman who you perhaps resented, because they succeeded in something you hadn't, or that you didn't feel deserved the good fortune they had?"

Tasha's growling is interrupted by the question and having to consider it at least gets her to look a bit less furious. Her brow narrows as she considers the question, then she begins to shake her head. "No, no' tha' I … Wait." Her head stops and eyes widen. "Aisha! Oi, I used to 'ate Aisha. Calli a bi' too. Oh, an' Tyche, Queen Tyche. An' Blackwings, bu' for other reasons." The woman tilts her head, suddenly realizing she's hated a great many women in her life.

"Generally, women try to hurt one another emotionally," Caravelli points out. "To knock their opponent down a notch, humble them, hurt them. Maybe not as literally as you did that time, but emotionally. Do you think Nora had reason to view you like you did those others?"

"Oh, um … I dunno, maybe because I 'ave Gabriel? An' 'e's 'appy with me? Bu' she 'as PC Gabe, so maybe not? I'm alive too, bu' tha's no somethin' I did. I'm no' sure why. She always seemed to 'ave done very well. I mean I was there when the Themis-Skoll was wrecked, bu' tha' wasn' my fault either. All this time I 'ad been doin' wha' she asked." Her head tilts the other way. "You think she wan'ed to knock me down a peg?"

"You saved the man she loved when she could not, and won his heart," Caravelli points out. "You had the resources to come here, were in a role of leadership, brought her back to life and were in a position of authority over her. You got to leave the ship and explore, and had dreams of a big future that she really didn't fit into except perhaps as a child. But you were still just a girl yourself, like a younger version of Nora. You had all of that, and she had nothing, despite working so hard all of her life."

"Oi," Tasha groans, leaning back. "It's awful to think abou', bu' … It's true. An', tha's wha' makes it so awful." She puts her rabbit piece down, then wipes her hands before rubbing her face. "An' the stupid part is, I knew this. Well, part o' it. I always felt guilty, havin' wha' she didn'. I'd 'ave given 'er my body, if she 'ad only asked for i'. I knew I didn' deserve wha' I 'ad an' she didn' wha' 'appened to 'er. I wan'ed to make it up to 'er, or jus' make 'er feel better somehow." The woman groans all over again, head shaking in her hands. "An' all I di was make 'er feel worse, then hit 'er when she tried to fight back."

"All of these conflicts seem to stem from a lack of understanding," Caravelli claims. "You didn't really understand yourself – your own motivations for doing things. So you never really could understand other people either. It's a bit like going through life looking into a bunch of mirrors, but not recognizing the person in the reflection, isn't it? Do you feel that you understand yourself a little better now?"

"Life definitely feels li' it's been a bunch o' mirrors lately," Tasha agrees as her hands slide from her face. She stares at the wolf in front of her, then nods a little. "I think I do," she confirms. "I jus' 'ope I remember i' this time aroun'."

"Do you think you could understand someone else if you put an effort into it now?" Caravelli asks next, grinning.

"I coul' try," Tasha replies, grinning a bit back. "If no', I guess I'll see you in 'ere again with wha's left o' me."

"Well, I'm here for you if you have questions or get confused again, or just need to talk without worrying about what you say," Caravelli notes. Compared to the real version, the PersoCom seems a lot more upbeat and personable.

Tasha nods to that, and then pushes herslef off the table, stretching as she stands up. "I will, Doctor. I guess I'm safe to leave then? You know, I li' you more than the real Caravelli." She smiles, then her eyes widen. "Bu' … Tha's because the real Caravelli los' everythin', of course 'e's glum! Gods, I 'ope 'e foun' some peace down there on Abaddon. Maybe I can 'elp 'im somehow." She purses her muzzle, then glances at the Doctor's PersoCom reflection, "Or, maybe I ought to think on 'im – an' me – a little more?"

"A little more empathy couldn't hurt," the psychologist admits with a grin. "I'll let Gabriel know you're awake now."

"Aye, thanks." The woman smiles a little more, then looks down at herself. "Time to face the mast then." She takes a breath, then nods as she walks the door. She's feeling much better – about everything.