By the time Tasha and Blammo make it across the hangar, much of the buzz from the heavy Vartan beer has worn off. The door that the Titanian leads her to is fairly nondescript, near the control section of the ship but opposite the entrance to the Silent-Ones area. The door opens silently after Blammo pushes on it.

Gauss rifle shouldered on her right shoulder and a mug of strong beer in her left hand, Tasha leans forward to peer through the doors. "Never been to this part o' the ship before," she admits, looking this way and that. With her buzz gone, she feels some of her earlier anger simmering just beneath the surface. but the promise of adventure, Vartans, more alcohol, and Blammo's cheery company keeps her growliness at bay – for now. "Oi, an' you said you could put a flamethrower on my gun?"

"Got strong glue!" Blammo claims, and heads into the opening. Lights come on, revealing a decorated hallway. It doesn't have the grandness of the Terran or Silent-Ones style, consisting of warm, soft lighting and soothing colors, along with walls made to look like hanging curtains between narrow pillars. The Titanian is already heading towards another set of double doors at the not-so-far end.

Tasha follows along, glancing at the curtains, eyes widened and brows arched. "I wasn' expectin' curtains," she says, head shaking. "It's kind o' nice, almost peaceful – soothing." She then shoots Blammo an almost accusingly defensive look, "If you liked curtains, not sayin' I do," she insists.

The big wolf just gives a slightly confused whine to Tasha, and heads through the double doors – which swing back and forth a bit after him. Tasha just gets a glimpse of something shiny before they swing closed, the view being largely blocked by Blammo's own bulk.

"I'm not mad!" Tasha yells after the Titanian, sounding a little mad for having to insist she isn't! Shrugging, since she can't throw her hands the air, full as they are, she elbows through the double doors into the area beyond.

A well-dressed lynx stands behind the bar, and smiles to Tasha (while clearly trying to ignore Blammo). "Hello Miss, welcome to the Talon Lounge," the Khatta says – in Vartan. Albeit with a bit of a purr instead of a squawk to flavor his accent.

"OI!"

The exuberant exclamation of Tasha is followed by her throwing her hands up – almost. Her beer sloshes to the ground, causing her to curse, and then she nearly drops the Gauss rifle on her foot scrambling to keep the mug from falling. Several seconds of stumbling and awkwardly pulling this and that to her chest for stability, she's up again, and no less impressed. "WOW!" She scans the room, eyes widening like saucers, ears perking so much they threaten to just pop off her head and run off. Several more seconds are spent just staring, until the woman seems to remember there's a person looking at her, casuing her to turn back almost shout, "'Ello, kitty! This place is great!"

"It is certainly the finest establishment on Orpheus catering to Vartans," the Khatta says. "Also the only one, but we do have certain standards to keep up to no matter what."

"Well whatever the case is, I'd tell anyone this is the best tavern I've ever seen – and from me, that means something!" Wasting no time, Tasha walks up to the bar, putting her drink down and laying her gun against the bar frame. "You're also my new favorite kitty," she adds, plopping herself down in a stool which such enthusiasm she has to flap to avoid falling off it. "You served a lot of Vartans then? I didn't know Orpheus had Vartans!"

"The original security contingent was reassigned to the Ark before launch," the bartender says, apparently taking a cue from Tasha's mug and pouring her a fresh one from the tap behind the bar. It comes in a crystal mug, and when placed down on the bar top it lights up – because a circle of light appears beneath it. "Politics, I imagine. So actually I have never served a Vartan in here before now."

"Beer! Beer!" Blammo barks at the Khatta, and the force of it actually seems to ruffle the feline's fur until he pours another mug for the Titanian, who hugs it to his chest before turning away and going to sit at the stage.

"Oooooh," Tasha breathes as she looks down at her new, very shiny, very glowly mug is set down. It takes her a moment to become functional in a way that doesn't require staring and grinning stupidly, but she eventually makes to look up and declares, "This is the best mug I've ever seen!" Without further delay, she snatches up the mug and sips at it. Again she seems to remember there's more around her than shiny things and alcohol, the woman blinking and glancing at the bartender to say, "I 'ope I'm Vartany enough for you? If it makes you feel any better, I thin' you're doin' great."

"Actually, since I don't recognize you, would you mind placing your finger in this for a moment?" the Khatta asks, holding up a slender, glossy black box with a hole in one end that big enough for a very large finger to fit into.

"Hokay," Tasha agrees, sticking her finger inside. "I jus' want it back – that's my shooty finger."

"I know how important that finger can be for a Vartan," the barkeep says. "And you even have extras." There's a very slight stinging sensation in Tasha's trigger finger, but it goes away quickly. The entire box then flashes green and chimes, and the Khatta pulls it away from the finger. "Ah, searching… searching… " he says.

"It's goin' to be searchin' a while," Tasha warns, wiggling her stung hand in front of her face and searching for damage.

There's a sore spot near the tip, with just a bit of blood showing in the fur. Meanwhile, Blammo is sitting on the floor camped out in front of the stage. The floor of it lights up, which Tasha can see in the bar mirror, and vaguely familiar music begins to play. A door opens at the very top, allowing a Khatta dancing girl to slide down the pole, wearing a gauzy getup not very different from something a Harem Club dancer would wear.

"Hm?" Tasha lets her hand drop and go back to doing it's important job of ferrying her mug to her muzzle as she turns her head and glances at the stage. "'Ey, a show, too! I saw one of these, once!"

Blammo's tail is thumping the floor as the cat-dancer swings and swirls and wraps herself around the pole, and otherwise dances as only a feline can.

"You lot sure is stretchy," Tasha tells the bartender, smiling at the show. "If I did that I thin' my spine would snap." She takes another sip and finds herself settling in. No one to judge her, nothing all that unfamiliar, and no immediate worries – the Bellerophon and Nora remain intentionally pushed out of her mind. "So, you said the Vartans all got moved to the Ark? My mum's where the Ark landed."

"Partial match found… refining," the barkeep mutters. "Definite Harbinger Clan affiliation. Predominant markers suggest your ancestor was Apollyon Stormbreaker, the Garuda pilot originally assigned to Orpheus."

"What?" Tasha's drink sloshes as her head snaps back from the show, the woman's attention focusing on the feline like a steel trap. "You … You found my ancestors?! I love you, magic kitty!" Leaning across the bar, the young woman demands, "Tell me more! Harbinger clan? Apollyon – that's Abaddon! – and the Garuda??"

"I'm only a synth, miss, so I'm not programmed for love," the bartender warns. "And I have found one possible branch of your family tree, based on what records I have available. Since the Harbinger Clan were supposed to be my clientele aboard Orpheus, I have their genetic records. Vartan mercenaries tend to bring their families with them on big assignments, and since the Expedition hired large numbers, several complete clans came with it. Harbinger was meant to berth here on Orpheus."

"So the Harbinger was a ship??" By this point, Tasha is leaning so far across the counter she's on the tip's of her hooves. "A Vartan ship?? My family … My clan … is the Harbingers?? More, I need to know more! Tell me everything!!"

"Garudas are the preferred troop-transport and air-support vehicles of the Vartan forces," the barkeep explains, and the mirror behind him turns into some sort of display, showing something between a Titan and an airplane – a Vartan-shaped aircraft with some semi-mobile sections.

"Harbinger is the designation of the clan as a group, as opposed to the name of a ship," the Khatta corrects. "A clan usually contains from fifty to one hundred Vartans, including non-combatants such as children and the elderly."

Tasha's eyes shoot wide, "Ooooh! It's li' a Titan but … not!" Her gaze darts across the entirety of the image, abording every aspect of it, burning it all into her brain. Buzzed or no, finding her family history has snapped her back to awareness faster than twenty coffees and a bucket of cold water to her face. "Oh!" She remarks at the knews of her clan organization, tail breaking into furious wagging. "I want to know about Apollyon Stormbreaker!!"

A new image appears, of a young-adult Vartan's bust. Apollyon was a brown and gold bird, with a dark red beak and matching eyes. "According to my records, Apollyon was unmarried but a skilled Garuda and Gryphon pilot," the Khatta notes. "There is not much personal information on him, however, as the Vartans only entered what was necessary for medical and logistical purposes."

"AHHH!" The wail of an over-excited Tasha rattles glass. "My Ancestor! M-my, … my … Right there!" She points necessarily, too excited to consider such things like practicality. "Can you copy that all of this to … my … " Tasha pats across her suit with her hands, then remembers she left her datapad back on the Bellerophon – and curses follow.

Behind her, Blammo howls in time with Tasha's wail, and the barkeep's ears fold back. "I can provide you with a new data pad if you need it, along with all of the information on the Harbingers," it says. "That is, the unclassified information. Military data, flight codes and the like are of course restricted and not available to a public interface synth like myself."

"Oh." Taking a breath and looking back, the young woman nods slowly as she takes a moment to calm and consider what she's just heard. "I'll take the datapad," she confirms shortly, adds, "I guess it's jus' like the Silent-Ones, nothin' works an' no codes for a non-V-" The woman's eyes widen in sudden realization, hand smacking her forehead. " … Oi wait, would I have access to Harbinger military data?? Can I access it on Orpheus??"

The Khatta produces a pad from beneath the bar. It looks similar to a Terran one, but is a bit larger and the control contacts are better organized for someone with three fingers and a thumb. "The military data systems would be in the training area, I imagine, near the launch bays for the Garuda and Gryphon."

"Launch bays??!" Tasha snatches the datapad, clutching it to her chest as if it were life itself. "Garuda? Gryphon?? Here??! Where, where?!"

"If you set down the pad, I can show you," the Khatta says with artificial patience.

"Nnnnn." Tasha eyes the pad, ears flicking as if her brain were suffering a short circuit. After a moment of pure indecision, she gently – but quickly! – puts the pad down and then looks at the protection expectantly. "Ready – go go!!" Beyond patience, Tasha literally bounces on her hooves as she waits.

The bartender simply taps a symbol on the function-strip of the tabled, the one that looks like a slowly rotating sphere with arrows radiating from its core. A three-dimensional map appears above the device then, showing a wedge-shaped section of Orpheus. A blinking point of red light near the bottom at the inner edge is likely Tasha's own location, but the rest is a maze of transparent corridors, suites and large areas. At the very top, taking up most of the wedge is what can only be a hangar, with rail-launchers for vehicles. Bird-shaped symbols sit on the rails, while a vertical launching system has a humanoid figure instead.

Tasha lets out a cackle that can only herald trouble, then leans across the counter to try and grab the feline and smooch him. "I'll remember you forever," she declares, "and when we go you're coming too! I'll get you another bar, with Vartans, with other people – whatever you want!!" And then she grabs her gun, the map-enabled pad, and is is off like a proverbial rocket, laughing all the way!

"Tash?" Blammo asks as the crazed woman rushes by.

There are a lot of doors to deal with, but Tasha eventually reaches an elevator, and the pace has left her out of breath. This gives Blammo some time to catch up. "Why run?" the Titanian asks while panting.

Wheezing, gun barrel against the floor and Tasha leaning heavily against the wall, she can be heard to complain, "Oi, too much Karnor … living can't … breathe … mum would … laugh," as Blammo rushes up to her. Spotting him, she pushes herself off the wall, staggering back to her feet. Too winded to voice her excitement clearly, she just waves her free hand wildly at the door and pants, "Found … family, family … machines and … stuff … up!"

"Ah," Blammo says, nodding. Then he asks, "Why run? They goin' away?"

"Ummm," Tasha blinks at Blammo, then shrugs at him. "Big … Big excited?" Then, she reaches back and touches the elevator control. "Dunno!" She adds a a second later.

The doors slide open almost immediately, so the elevator was probably already waiting at this level. Lights come on inside (just as they go out along the corridor the two explorers just came through).

"Sorry, Blammo!" Tasha re-shoulders her weapon and starts for the open door, holding her hand out to take his hand and guide him inside. "I just get excited sometimes – you know, lights, shinies, big machines? Boom?"

Glancing past the Titanian after, Tasha's brows narrow and asks asks, "Are the lights supposed to do that?"

"Lights light where people be," Blammo says as he squeezes into the elevator with Tasha, his tail thumping against the wall. "Excited good… yeah? Tussle with Blammo?" he asks.

Tasha pokes the control panel, and when she spots the Vartan phrase for where she wants to go, touches that selection. "Tussel?" The woman looks over, tilting her head, "You wan' to fight me? You should 'ave asked me earlier!"

"Yah, tussle!" Blammo says, nodding. "Mebbe find ball!" The doors close and the elevator begins its ascent, it's progressed displayed above the door.

The red woman eyes Blammo a moment, then slowly puts her weapon aside, powering it down. She puts the datapad carefully behind it – and then loosens her jacket. "Hokay," she agrees, putting her arms up, "Bu' no killin' an' no knockin' me out, I wan' to be awake for what's up there!"

"Wah, now?" Blammo asks, looking confused. "No room!" Then there's a ding and the doors open, showing a short corridor and a security station. Since the walls are transparent though, a good section of the hangar is visible – most notably that the hangar doors are wide open, showing the odd sky of Sheol. There are some scorch marks along the path of the launching rails that lead to it, as well. The Garudas must have been launched as part of the evacuation, even without Vartans to pilot them.

"Tha' was fast – oooh!" Tasha snatches up her gear, then races out of the elevator to press herself up against the glass. "What?!" Pressing farther, her facial fur is smushed as she sees the burn marks, rows and rows of several thousand years too-late. "It's all gone," she cries, slamming the base of her left hand against the window. "We 'ave to get down there and look!" Pushing away, she marches towards the security station.

It's unmanned, of course, and the double door airlock is as wide open as the hangar doors themselves. The rear of the hanger is partly obscured, since a launch shield failed to fold back into the floor after a launch, but a long row of black and gold Vartan armor stretches not far from the airlock. There is a structure past them that serves as the flight control center and ready-barracks for pilots on standby, according to the map, and on the other side of that should be the Gryphon bay.

Tasha skids to a stop as the Vartan armor comes into view, ears shooting up again. "Ah-ha!" Racing over, she approaches the nearest suit and begins examining. "Blammo, thin' any of these work – can they be fixed?" As she looks, her tail begins to wag all over again. "It's almos' like bein' home again – think o' it, my ancestors might 'ave worn these! Maybe this very suit!"

The suits don't look like anyone has ever worn them – they're still wrapped in some sort of clear protective skin. The suits are complete, so there's no clear evidence of how a person would actually put them on, especially the articulated wings.

"Folks in these?" Blammo asks, trying to peer past one of the helmet visors. "Fancy coffins, yah?"

After several minutes of looking, Tasha steps back and scratches at her ears. "Well, they look new – new-ish – anyway, bu' I don' see how you open 'em. Are they jus' robots?" She glances at Blammo, eyes widening all over again. "Coffins?! Urgh, I hope you're wrong about that!" Just to make sure, Tasha snatches one of her five flashlights off her gadget-crowded suit, turns it on, then shines it at an eye hole as she leans forward.

The helmet is devoid of any heads this time, unlike with Nora's armor.

"Nothing!" The Vartan shoots Blammo an accusing look, "Don't scare me like that – do you know how many dead people I deal with?" She shakes her hand at him, then begins opening the plastic casing, waving Blammo over to help. "This is so exciting!"

The coating is tough, but Blammo keeps his knife sharp. Soon, one of the armor suits is stripped free of its wrapper.

With more room to work, Tasha circles the suit, then finally just tries putting a hand on it. "Tasha Stormbreaker wants you to open," she commands, although her uncertainty makes it almost sound like a question.

The suit just sits inert, with nary a squeak or beep. Blammo pats Tasha on the shoulder, and says, "Needs power, yah? Brand new, batt'ry no charged."

"Oh right, battery." The woman looks around for something that either gets removed from the suit or attaches from a wall – that's how power seems to work from her experience. "Do you know where it is, or should we look around and come back?"

"Maybe need tool," Blammo says, tapping at various small armor plates on the suit. "Magnet. Open piece, get at power, control. So look 'round, yah."

"Hokay," Tasha agrees. She stands up, clicking her datapad to get a better look at the hangar overall, then looks up and scans the room. "There," she directs, pointing at what must be the barracks, "Let's go there – I'm trying to brace for being disappointed when we go to the Gryphon bay."

The barracks are, predictably, empty – but at least show some signs of having been used, probably during the evacuation. There's a trash bin that hasn't been emptied, filled with a layer of desiccated muck with some foam cups mired in it. A few of the lockers have been opened and the plastic coating pulled away from some of the beds, resulting in nearly disintegrated mattresses. There are also tool lockers near the door.

"If I ever have to do this, I'm leaving a note or something to apologize for the disappointments," Tasha remarks as she walks among the disused beds, bins, and others things before returning to the tool locker. ""Oi, sorry, we needed this stuff – I left some interestin' things in this box though. Hope I'm still alive! Oh, and build a statue of me – Tasha."" She then reaches over and opens the locker.

There are few missing tools from the rack that makes up most of the locker, but the upper shelf holds two thick black cases with the now familiar plastic vacuum wrapping.

"Black cases are usually bad," Tasha tells Blammo in a low, warning voice. She reaches reaches up and takes one, holding it out for the man to release before she opens it up. "If it's a sad note, I'm goin' back to get my drink."

Blammo peals away the coating, and hands it back. There is some silvery Vartan script across the face that was invisible before, since the matte coating of the plastic prevented the symbols from shining against the black.

"Oh, a note." She glances at Blammo in a 'how about that,' sort of way, then grabs her flashlight again and shines it on the case.

"Achilles Class Environmental Armor Systems," the legend reads.

"Achilles," Tasha quotes, brow arching. "I bet his wife was a big monster, and he lost her forever because he was a bad singer, or something. Never ask what the names mean, Blammo!" She then tries to open the box.

The case opens like a book, with two equal sides. Nestled in one half is a familiar-looking Vartan data pad. The other half has various little tools and adapters.

"This'll come in handy – I better read this before I break something," the red woman says. Clothing the case, she tucks it under her arm and nods towards the door. "Let's go to the Gryphon hangar."

Tasha takes a step, then pauses, looking back. "Oh, these might not be the same things," she observes, tucking the case she has under her gun arm and then picking the other case off the rack. the process of holding it out, then tilting it towards the light before opening it is repeated.

After the wrapping comes off, the legend on the case can be read. It's a single word: Melchior.

"Melchior," Tasha repeats. "That doesn't sound bad – but neither did Bellerophon or Orpheus." With a bit of shifting, she rearranges what she's carrying enough she can open the new case.

It too opens like a book, with a data pad in one side and a few pieces in the other. There's a tool that looks like a medical needle with a pistol grip, and a vial of silvery fluid next to it. There are several more small pieces of silvery metal, all sealed in their own plastic sheaths.

Blinking at the apparatus in front of her, uttering a confused, "Huh?" Squinting, she tries to make sense of it, then just shakes her head. "I have no idea what this is. Mind if I sit down an' read about it?"

"Read? Wassat?" Blammo says, sitting down as if the request was actually an invitation.

Seeing the Titanian on the floor, Tasha just sits right down where she is, too. "I don' know wha' this is," she admits, showing Blammo the contents of the second case. Setting everything else aside, she lays the case in her lap and pulls out the datapad, powering it on. "But, I'm going to find out – can you read Vartan?"

"Vartans fight Titanians," Blammo points out.

"Titanians fight everyone," Tasha retorts, grinning. "But so do I, sometimes." She looks back down, hoping the datapad still has enough power to come on, ready to read. "You can look around here, but wait for me before going to the hangar."

The tablet powers on, and the screen fills with Vartan script. "Khattan Trade Coalition Military Cybernetics Division," reads the first line, followed by, "Technical Operations Manual" and "TL2 Magi Class Gryphon", and finally, in larger script, "MELCHIOR."

"Blammo, what's a cybernetic?" Tasha taps the console to continue. "It says something about Khattans, cybernetics, a Gryphon and 'Melchior.'"

"Ah, cy-ber… " Blammo says, scratching his head. "Oh, ah… like this," he realizes, and taps at one of the exposed scales of Tasha's body suit. "Machine and alive, work together."

"Oh, well, that sounds good," Tasha says with an air of understanding. Nodding, Tasha returns to the device's manual, tapping it again to see if she can find the instructions it claims are beyond.

The screen switches to show a long scrolling index, and a window to one side with a smiling Khatta woman. She even blinks a few times.

"Khattan's have the friendliest technology," the red woman murmurs, smiling at the feline. She had always thought Khattans a little foppish, but after all this, she's willing to give them another chance. That they've provided the means to discover her people's past has gone a long way in changing her mind. "It's even got a little Khattan woman, a bit like the bartender. Hi, Khattan woman!" Tasha smiles more. "Can you tell me what this does and how to use it?"

"Help functions activated," the Khatta says in that feline version of Vartan that seems to smooth away the harsh edges of the language. "First activation detected. Hello! Would you like to begin with the pilot preparation tutorial or the systems activation tutorial?"

"Hi," Tasha repeats, grinning. "Which one would I need to know first to use this? Or, does it matter?"

"If you do not have a pilot prepared, then that is the best thing to cover first," the help-Khatta replies.

"Oh, well, … I guess that might be me," Tasha tells the device, tail wagging at the friendly instruction. "Let's start with that." Aside to Blammo, Tasha says, "Why can't everyone else be this nice and helpful? If Nora had only been like this I wouldn't have punched her!" The Vartan mutters something dark about joining the Coalition instead, turning her full focus back to the forthcoming instructions.

"Pretty kitty," Blammo agrees. On the tablet, the text is gone, replaced by images of the odd needle-gun and the silver studs. "The Magi Class Tech Level 2 Pilot Interface requires only minor surgery, which and be performed at any Coalition medical station configured for Vartans." As she speaks, the studs take up the screen, and are shown being inserted into a virtual Vartan skull. "Once in place and initialized, the cybernetic relays will interact with the Magi system, receiving detailed instructions from both the pilot's brain and neuromuscular system, the latter being transmitted via the special conductive tattoo system." The needlegun and vial show up at that point.

Tasha's brow raises at the instructions, the woman again shooting Blammo a glance. "I don't think we can use this ourselves – did you see a medical station? Here," she hands the man her datapad, "see if you can find one that handles Vartans." Looking back, Tasha nods to the display. "Isn't Tech Level 2 advanced? Wouldn't that violated the- … Oh, this is Khattan, so I guess it wouldn't. Great! Continue!"

The video shows the pattern for the tattoos – which actually look very stylish and shiny, except that the model shown is plucked or shaved as needed for the tattoos to be applied.

"Here," Blammo says, pointing to an area on the next level down.

"Why are cybernetics so embarrassing," Tasha wonders aloud. "Continue, pleas-" Pausing, Tasha glances over and nods. "Let's head there, before someone comes along and tells me I'm doing something wrong or reckless." Standing, Tasha gathers what she can and hands the rest to Blammo, "I'll read this on the way, you'll help right? And yes I know this is reckless, but I am reading the instructions."

"Besides," Tasha continues, "I think I like life better this way. Ready?"

"Once the tattoos have been applied, the Magi system is ready to learn the pilot," the tablet continues once things are gathered up.

"Learn the pilot?" Tasha begins for the door, glancing at the display as she goes. She steps outside, further glancing towards the hangar and what may sleep inside. "What do you think, Blammo? Risk disappointment and look, or be reckless, and at least have a shiny tattoo before being disappointed?"

"Uh, lookie!" Blammo says, with little thought. "No there… make one!"

"You can make one??" Tasha gives the Titanian an eyes-wide, impressed once over. "I guess I'm wrong about a lot of people, including you. That's something, Blammo. You're right – lets look!" And with that, Tasha heads for the Gryphon hangar.

Rounding the side of the barracks and flight control building, the hybrid and the space-wolf are greeted by the sight of a giant plastic bag. And inside of it appears to be a black Vartan wearing golden armor, standing as tall as the Themis-Skoll. It's wings are folded, but two large structures can be seen attached to its back. On the chestplate is the Star and Anchor, except that the arms of the Star are replaced by wings.

When Tasha rounds the corner, still telling Blammo about how she expects there to be burn marks on the floor, or a wreck, she suddenly just … stops. Her gun slips from her grasp as her arms fall to her side, the weapon glancing hard off her leg before thumping to the floor. All Tasha manages is a quiet, distracted, "ow," as her gaze rises, taking in the Gryphon in front of her. And then she just seems to stop working altogether, staring blankly like she, too, needs a change of batteries.