The warm – if distant – sun rouses Tasha from her sleep. When did she fall asleep? There are fluffy white clouds in the sky, and the world has turned… green. Grass grows up around her, shrubs and flowing plants dot the landscape and copses of trees (and further off, forests) seem to dominate.

As the young woman blinks against the light, squinting as her eyes adjust. For a moment, she struggles to remember what happened, and where she is. And then …

"AHH!" With a violent lurch she's up, the nails of her Karnor hands digging in to her scalp as she clutches her head, eyes widen in terror. The serene landscape flashes to that place … that stormy hell! Fearsome clouds roil as lightning, like the fangs of an angry god, flashes in all directions. Below, lava seems to hunger for her, threatening to pull her in to an inescapable tomb where her dreams will rot as her life vanishes forever. And, center to it all, an impossible monstrosity: thousands of tentacles extend from a plate-like floating mountain covered in crystal, greater than any airship. It could devour Rephidim. Even in its apathy it is terrifying; it needn't do a thing, its very existence in this hell, greater anything of her world, is beyond enough.

Thought the memory lasts but a moment Tasha stares in horror still, not seeing the beautiful world before her. Not seeing anything, but the place where she almost died.

Birds begin to sing (real birds, not Creens) in the trees behind Tasha. The shadow of Melchior stretches out next to her own from behind, where she left him. A few blades of grass fall from her bio-suit when she lurches up… but otherwise nothing seems out of place beyond the world itself.

For minutes, it's all Tasha can do to squeeze her eyes shut against the memory. The action is of little use; the memory follows her still, in to the dark. But there is a strange comfort in the passage of time, and even the most horrific memory cannot hold a mind against all the rest of the world indefinitely. Little by little, realization begins to come to the young woman: Where is she? Didn't she exit the Melchior to be alone in the wastes? Did she return? Is this a simulation? The last question she tries desperately to get out of her head: Am I dead? Her memory tells of a narrow survival that had nothing to do with her own actions, but not death. Not unless …

"NO!" Tasha cries out against the world, eyes snapping open as she looks in to the sky, pleading. "I'm not dead! We survived! I'M NOT DEAD!!"

"Of course you aren't dead," a deep voice claims from behind her. "That would ruin everything, wouldn't it?"

Tasha cries out in alarm, scrambling in to a turn such that she ends up half-sprawled on her side and looking back. "W-who-?!"

A stranger is standing next to Tasha's own armor, which has some clinging vines stuck to it – as does the hulking Melchior beyond it. The strange thing about the stranger though, is that he is incredibly familiar. Blonde hair, red fur and feathers, a Karnor head and torso atop a Vartan lower half. And definitely male – as if Tasha suddenly had a twin brother. "Who?" he asks. "You've come all this way, just to find me haven't you? How could you forget who you were looking for?"

"I-I … ," she stammers. Tasha's stress-decimated brain can only convulse at what she's seeing before her. One terrifying mystery followed by emptiness and now a place terrifying in its familiarity; she can't grasp it. She can't even lift the hand. "Wha- wha… ? Who … ?"

The man walks over, and flowers bloom in his hoof-steps. He stands before Tasha, then reaches down and offers her a hand up. "It is good to finally meet you in person," he says with a smile.

The disheveled young woman stares at the hand as if unable to comprehend it for several seconds. When it seems like she can't manage, she suddenly reaches up and, slowly and cautiously,  takes the offered hand. Her hand shakes, even as it tries to hold on.

She's easily pulled up to her hooves, with bits of greenery still sloughing off of her. "Much better," the stranger says, then asks, "So what do you think of my world – as it once was and will be again?" He uses his free arm to gesture to the landscape around them.

As Tasha turns to gaze across this world of his, more akin to Sinai or Terra than Abaddon. She seems to see, really see, it for the first time. Her wide eyes are not so wide anymore; even though she still looks frightened, with canted ears and tucked tail, it is not the stark terror of moments ago. "You … your-" She shrinks away from the sudden flight of a bird, but her eyes track it. As it soars away in to the sky she tilts her head, and as it vanishes, her eyes widen in something other that fear. "Your … ? Not Melchior … you … you … " And then she looks at him, and like the world, seems to see him for the first time, too. A gasp, and then she cries out,  "Abaddon!"

The apparent hybrid bows his head slightly and kisses the back of Tasha's hand before letting it go. "Not what you were expecting?" he asks, sounding a bit amused.

There seems to be a conservation of space within the Vartan's mind, as one tremendous life event vies with an impossible meeting to clutch the young woman's emotions. Her face goes through several acrobatics as she tries to comprehend what she's seeing and hearing, settling at stunned. "B-b-but you're a Khatta," she blurts out as the first thing that comes to her mind.

"Am I?" Abaddon asks. "Maybe an echo of me, worshiped from afar. But this is my world, and I choose my form here. Would you put limits on a god?"

"N-no!" Tasha sucks in a deep breath, and seems to finally regain some grip on her self in doing so. Perhaps it is that the impossible, being more recent to mind, has won out or she simply cannot deal with so much at once, and has latched on to what is before her as a life raft cast to a her drowning mind. Whatever the case may be, she seems a little calmer when she continues, asking, "No … B-but … But why? Why … now? What did you mean, it would ruin … everything?"

Abaddon steadies Tasha by resting his hands on her shoulders. "Because I need you alive, Tasha, in order to bring all of this about. It is our children who will create this new world. They will infiltrate the invaders, and inflame them. Conflict will destroy them all, leaving my world pristine for them. Isn't this what you desire? Peace, through conflict?"

The hand does seem to settle her. She listens, ears forward. And, though she still shakes, she seems to have regained her focus and listens attentively. By the time he has finished she has cocked her head to the side, her face full of concern. "C-children? Us? Need … me? I, … I don't understand, Abaddon – Lord Abaddon? Peace and conflict? Invaders … ?"

"The humans and their dogs," Abaddon whispers, leaning forward. "Spotted cats, slithering snakes, winged vermin… " As he talks, he begins to change as well. Flames burst, burning away the fur and skin to reveal hot iron beneath, with molten red metal forming the seams between the plates. His face drops away as well, and black metallic ram's horns grow from the iron skull. His eyes become holes into the inferno, and his touch is causing Tasha's bio-suit to scream as well!

What little peace she had regained crumbles before the horror before her and it's awful words, forcing to Tasha recoil – then cower! "Bu-b-b-but, n-no! No, please!" She tries to get away, but the hands keep her here, even as they destroy her suit and threatens to burn in to her. "That's not what I want!"

"Does that even matter?" the demon-god hisses, the suit coming free in his hands as Tasha's struggles send her falling backwards. She can see Abaddon fully now, with cloven hooves and a spade-tipped, reptilian tail. And between his legs… well, how she was supposed to survive that is just… And then the screaming is all she hears. It's an alarm, she knows. And there's pain… her stomach, her waist. Hands numb, head aching and…

It's a struggle to open her eyes, which seem frozen shut, but Tasha manages. The bio-suit's low-power alarm isn't really screaming, but it is insistent, and it hardly matters at the moment. Tasha thinks she's dizzy, that the world is spinning… but the world is spinning. She's being shaken around, and the pain from her midsection… She realizes that she's being held in a huge set of jaws! They're clamped across her lower torso, and saw-like teeth are screeching as they try to chew through the bio-suit armor! A baleful red eye the size of Tasha's fist glares down at her. Even in the dark (and Abaddon's night are very dark, with no Procession to light them) the outline of the head seems familiar. Despite the freezing cold, the pain, and what's she's just woken from… it may be a bit too much to find herself in the clutches of a giant vermite!

As her eyes adjust, the horror of the world returns all in full to Tasha. For the third time in this worst of days she screams for her life. Driven by what little resistance she had managed in … the dream? Nightmare? Warning? She lashes out, wailing, feet kicking rage and fear, her hand thrust at the baleful eye, so like the smoldering ruin that was … Him.

The eye pops, and the monster screams (roars?) and drops Tasha to the ground. It then tries stomping around with its many legs, and sends out a horrible chittering call; teki teki teki!

Tasha grunts from the hard impact, the blow exasperating the damage of an already wounded body. She then crawls before stumbling up to run for her powered suit, vaulting over the front and climbing in!

It takes forever for the suit to close up, it seems. But adrenaline keeps Tasha warm – her bio-suit batteries exhausted themselves trying to keep her from freezing in the night! With the defrosting that comes with the gauntlets, there is also some pain. She might have gotten a bit of frostbite. Eventually the suit finishes closing and powering up, and she can hear more motion out there in the dark, and answering chitters. Was the monster attracted by her suit alarm going off?

Tasha doesn't waste any time once her armor is ready, turning and taking wing for Melchior's cockpit. Her mind is frenzied, adrenaline flowing like the pools of lava she had seen so many times, keeping her warm, keeping her going. And …

There is ice in Tasha's hair, which falls out once she's back in the saddle and the interface arm connects. Melchior stirs back to life, and the virtual displays show that he's surrounded by the giant vermites (vermaxes?). They seem to be keeping their distance from the larger foe… or else waiting for enough reinforcements to arrive.

Inside the cockpit, Tasha's wild eyes scan the display that only exists in her mind. Seeing the creatures that threatened to end her life – again! – now beneath her brings an empty smile to her face. And then, she begins to laugh …

"Melchior … combat mode."

Things speed up… or slow down, depending on perspective… for Tasha. The numbness of her fingers is replaced by the heat and vibration of Melchior's slicing talons. The sound of the stirring Titan causes the vermaxes to retreat a bit.

Tasha's laughter carries from her cockpit in to the waste as she gains full control. It is a maddened, vicious sound. The terrible sound is all that warning that comes before the great black machine lashes out, reaching to try and wrap its taloned hand against the beast with one eye.

That's all it takes. Seeing one of their own grabbed by the metal monster causes the other vermaxes to flee back into the fissures they crawled out of.

The flight of the others only heightens the laughter as the black giant lifts the creature before it, a myriad of lenses tracking and twisting in its emotionless eyes as it turns the vermax in its grip.

And then, the laughter stops.

It doesn't squish and goosh as well as the real vermites Tasha used to pull the legs off of as a child. It just goes limp when a vibrating talon slices into its back. Steam rises from the gash for a moment before the talons crush and crumble the body, then drop it to the ground with a splat. Gore doesn't stick to the cutting surfaces, but does paint the rest of the Titan's hand with green goo.

Seeing nothing further that threatens it, the machine turns to face the direction it had once followed to return home. The reddish-pink glow of the plasma engines blossom behind it, wings spreading before plasma flame carries it in to the sky – even as the wash reduces the dead vermax to ashes.

"Are you feeling better now, Tasha?" the voice of the machine asks in Tasha's mind.

"I don't know what to feel." The pilot responds, her voice devoid of its usual emotion. "But I am here."

"You appear to have suffered some cold-related injury," the voice points out. "Please seek medical attention upon landing."

"It's nothing. I am fine. Please give me a status report," Tasha bids. Distantly, she feels her fingers burn, her ribs ache, but it is nothing compared to what she has seen.

"Energy reserves are low. Adjusting flight speed as needed to reach base," the AI recites. "Your biometrics are off. Why did you wish to land and sleep outside in the cold?"

"I … " Even with her emotions exhausted, with all that's left being cold thought, Tasha can't fully understand why she did what she did. And so she offers what she can, "I wanted to be alone, away from everything. Alone, where all that existed … was me."

"You did not need to leave the cockpit for that," Melchior claims. "Was it a religious activity?"

"I was … I still may not be quite sane, Melchior." As she ponders the question, a long silence ensues. Along with so much else, her religion nearly crumbled before the unrelenting onsalught. Abaddon, God of Conflict, War, Destruction … Did he really appear before her? Or, was it just a fragment of her wounded mind, putting a face to her dreams, as well as her fears? "No," she answers after a moment, almost forgetting the question. "It was just the action of a woman who was falling apart."

"Your physical integrity seems normal, despite mild frostbite," the AI points out, as more miles are put between them and the nightmare spawning landscape. "I understand that organic intelligences often have conflicting thoughts and emotions which can cause confusion. Is this the case?"

"You were there … You saw how … You saw what happened. And, after … and again … " Tasha's head tilts, and before her erupts the aft camera view, the hellish place shrinking away behind her beyond the glow of the engines. "My dream, Melchior … Am I leading everyone to their deaths … ?"

"I cannot analyze dreams," the AI states. "If you are referring to the events witnessed at the spatial anomaly, I cannot confirm that what was seen was actually real or not. None of my instruments were performing properly in that area."

"What you saw is what we from Sinai refer to as a 'Forbidden Zone,' Melchior. They are terrible places, where magic … where reality twists and writhes. They have doomed ships less complicated than us. And, it was before a volcano, the Fenris fell. I … " Tasha's head lowers. She doesn't need her emotions to tell her what she feared. back there before the strange volcanic fissure. As her life teetered on the brink, all she could think about was the end of the Fenris and meeting the same fate. So close. The end was so very close … "We are lucky to still exist. I didn't know we could survive that."

"Are you afraid of death, Tasha?" the AI asks. It sounds… almost supportive?

"Yes." The reply carries no hesitation, and no emotion, save a tired edge. Seconds later she adds, "Thank you for being here for me, Melchior. I am afraid of a great many things right now, and you are all I have." As the chill passes with a little warmth, so, too, does her words begin to carry a little emotion; a little warmth in return.

"I exist to serve you, Tasha," the machine replies. "Perhaps you can tell me about your dream?" It's not clear if the AI is actually interested, or just trying to occupy Tasha's mind to keep it from returning to dark places.

Tasha considers Melchior's motive, but decides, in the end, she doesn't really care why he asks, only that he does. "I can always count on you, can't I? Alright … I'll tell you. In the same space I slept upon, I awoke to a green world, full of trees, flowers … even birds. It wasn't this barren, red wasteland we see all around us; it was beautiful, Melchior. And then there was a voice, and there behind me … was me. But, not me. A male me, like if I had a brother. He was Abaddon, God of Conflict. God of Destruction. My god."

"Did he speak to you?" the AI asks, "Or perhaps give you a task or quest?"

"Yes … yes, Melchior. He did." Tasha turns her mind's eye to that vanishing place far behind her now, lost in the haze of engines. "The last time I spoke with those who represented my god, the task carried me to the Fenris, to Gabriel, and ultimately in to the stars to come here. To Sheol, where I found you. I have spoken to these manifestations before, and they often council me, or provide guidance. I tell you this, so you understand why what I am about to tell you worries me so much."

Taking a mental 'deep breath,' Tasha explains, "That green world is this world, or so he claimed. He said it would come again, brought by … By our children. By our children, who will come amidst the invaders … to destroy them all."

"Are you certain it was the same god?" the AI asks. "Have you spoken with other incarnations of it before?"

"I have never spoken with Lord Abaddon personally; always through his representatives and priestesses. He claimed the Abaddon of Sinai was but a pale echo of Him, that this is his true world. He appeared like me, and then … as … as the unspeakable," Tasha answers.

"You have been under stress since our encounter with the Forbidden Zone," the artificial voice observes. "This may affect your dreams, along with the hypothermia from leaving your head unprotected in the cold. I would not take this dream as being a divine vision."

"He claimed I mustn't die. Melchior, how did you save us?" The young woman then asks.

"When you became unresponsive, I followed emergency protocols and acted to move as far from the source of distress as possible," Melchior explains. "This is normal when in flight mode but would not happen during combat mode."

"Then … perhaps it all was just a dream. I'll … I'll try to forget it." Taking a breath, Tasha reaches up and rubs her face. "The rest remains, though. How easily we are cast from the sky, by even an indifferent byproduct of this world. And our technology, even back then … It's nothing to these worlds. Nothing at all. I wonder, Melchior, if I am just using my influence to recreate the disaster of old. I can no longer be sure that I am not simply leading people to their deaths. We have so little power!" The young woman closes a fist, thunking it against her control bench. "What will we do, if this happens to Bellerophon? And, it's just one Zone!  All I can think of is … without more, we are children toying with gods."

"There are paths to security that do not require great power," the AI notes. "There is learning. Technology does exist on its own, it is a created thing like any tool. Tools are byproducts of learning. These worlds are not beyond comprehension, they are only mysterious to us at this point in time."

"I see why you are called a Magi; you truly are a 'wiseman.''" For the first time since launch, Tasha's smile is genuine. "And, you make a good point. I just hope we can learn enough, before this world sweeps us away again. I can no longer fear magic. Like it, hate it, … I must work with it, or my avoidance may destroy me. Maybe, even all of us."

"If it helps, realize that there is no transition between childhood and adulthood. One day, you are simply part of the adult world, although some cultures do practice adult initiation rituals," the robot voice points out. "Likewise, there may be no distinct transition from adulthood to godhood. Thus, gods may simply have more power or responsibility or knowledge, just as an adult has over a child. But that does not make them very different."

"That is an interesting way to put it, Melchior. I will think on that a while. For now, I think I'll rest and prepare myself for answering to my superiors." Settling back, Tasha angles her seat so that she's reclined and only a scant few monitors fill her mind. "And thank you again, Melchior. You may not be what Doctor Caravelli said you were not, but you are clearly close to me, in a way I can't articulate."

"I am connected to your nervous system, Tasha," Melchior says. "There is not much which could be considered closer."

"Yes; we together." Another smile, then Tasha closes her eyes. "Please notify me when we are nearing base. I will keep an eye on things as I rest, too."

---

Several hours pass, and then Melchior gently wakes its pilot as they pass over the rim of the Pit. Tasha's fingertips still burn a bit, as do her ears, but the soreness of her stomach and hips has dulled considerably. It's early morning, and searchlights blaze upwards from the landing field.

"Mmm." Tasha blinks, sitting up as her chair follows her. It only takes her a moment to remember this time, but even though she pauses, she manages to avoid freezing up. An exhale later, she moves to her forward incline and brings up all the windows needed for landing. "Good morning, Melchior. It looks like they've come to greet me; flash the external lights in the pre-arranged landing request pattern for the conditions."

Signals are flashed back and forth, and Melchior is cleared to land. There are several Lawbringers out on the field as well.

Compared to everything else, landing is a relatively languid affair as the Titan descends from the sky and touches down on to the runway. This time, Tasha remembers the lack of magnetic landing assist, and the great machine does not need to step forward to help come to a halt. From here, Tasha opens up windows, scanning the area. "While I said I was planning what to say, I barely came up with anything before falling asleep. The flight record may help, but we may need to edit it."

The Lawbringers come in close, as if expecting the Gryphon to collapse or fall over, and a very frazzled and sleep-deprived Dr. Zerachiel appears on one monitor hurrying towards the Titan and waving to the men with a boarding ladder to keep up.

"I know it's bad of me, but … it's good to see he cared so much to stay and wait for me," Tasha says of the doctor. Deciding it's best to forgo emergency exit, the great Titan lifts its hand at her direction and signs, "I will return to the hangar with permission and disembark."

This causes another burst of activity as Titans and ground crew clear the way for Melchior.

Once the path is clear, Tasha directs her machine forward. There is no further contact from her until the machine has powered down and the woman can be seen stepping out from the airlock. She gazes down at those who have waited for her, knowing she must look like hell. Then, she leaps from the Titan and clops to the ground.

"Tasha!" Zerachiel barks, running up to her – with a medic on his tail. "What happened to you? You just took off! Was there a malfunction of some kind?"

It's about here Tasha realizes her body can't quite keep up with the sudden land-and-stand maneuver, causing her to just drop to her knees and rest a moment. Staring at the ground in front of her armored hoof, she struggles with how to answer. Unable to think of anything, she remains silent.

"Water!" Zerachiel tells the medic. "She's been gone for eighteen hours without any!" Has it really been that long? The medic (a human) holds an open canteen to Tasha's lips.

"Eighteen … " Tasha repeats, voice raspy. She reaches to help the water to her mouth, and as she gulps it down, she realizes just how thirsty she's been. The canteen is empty before it leaves her lips. "Thanks … for waiting."

The older Karnor sits on the ground next to Tasha, while the Silent-Ones Titans return to the hangar as well. "What happened, Tasha? Are you injured?"

"Frostbite … " There's a sudden click, followed by the scalloping release of her suit as it opens up, showing Tasha's damaged armor and darkened fingers. "Doctor," she whispers, as she begins pulling out, " … dataslate … flight recording one … I … I need drink."

"We'll take her from here, Doctor," the medic says to Zerachiel. "She needs care while there's still time." And then Tasha finds herself being lifted up and carried away, while a fresh canteen is brought to her lips.

Laying on the stretcher, Tasha begins to feel just how badly off she is. Dehydrated, frostbitten, exhausted both physically and mentally, and whatever injuries being shaken for an unknown amount of time incurred. She lays back with a groan, glad to be back, whatever happens. The water is a welcome relief, and she empties the second bottle in short order.

Zerachiel looks on helplessly, then casts his bloodshot eyes up towards Melchior and the sensor pack strapped to its chest…

Things are a bit of a fatigue-blur for Tasha from that point. She remembers taking off the armor, and showing someone how to 'unzip' the bio-suit. There are people dressed all in white coming and going, and a Naga orderly actually carrying her around. When things start to clear again, she finds herself in a warm bathtub, with her wings beneath her. She feels some bandages on her head and ears, and sees her fingertips wrapped as well as her ankles. The reptilian orderly is there, watching her with an unblinking stare. When she shows signs of lucidity, it hisses, "Pleasssse do not move about, your wingsss were injured. You must remain in the bath for a while longer, but food can be brought if you feel up to eating."

Tasha's head wobbles as she affixes her gaze on the woman, wondering where she came from, and where, exactly, here is. After wondering the same thing so many times, she decides she doesn't care anymore. She's just glad it's warm. "Th-thank you," she murmurs. "I'm not going anywhere. What happened to me?"

"You were sssuffering from exxxxposure and dehydration," the orderly replies. "Sssome bruising of the midriff, and mild frossstbite. You are expected to recover fully."

"That's good," Tasha says, although shes frowns. "And my wings?"

"You've lost some feathers, and have some frostbite that caused the skin to sssplit, but it isss will not ground you if you let it heal."

"Thank goodness … " Leaning back, Tasha rests the unbandaged portion of her head on the bathtub rim. "What a nightmare. More to come, too … aye? The Council?"

"We have been turning people away who insssist on seeing you," the orderly comments. "Isss there anyone you wissh to sssee first?"

"Doctor Caravelli, he's been worried sick, no doubt. Then, I should answer to the Council representatives. That … should be everyone?" Tasha's ears perk questioningly, but then she winces and forces them back to rest.

"Ah, sorry, Doctor Zerachiel … Wait … " The woman blinks, head tilting. "Zerachiel? I thought only Doctor Caravelli was here? Was I hallucinating?"

"Are you certain you are ready for visitorss?" the Naga asks.

"No wait … Caravelli stayed behind, Zerachiel came with me. Doctor Zerachiel, please," Tasha concludes. She reaches to rub her head, then frowns at the bandages and puts it right back where it had been resting. "Yes, I'm sure the confusion will pass."

The orderly makes sure the water is still warm, then spreads a sheet over the tub so that only Tasha's head is sticking out. It takes only a few minutes before she's back with Zerachiel, who must have been waiting nearby. At least he looks like he's gotten a bit of sleep. "Tasha?" he says. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," the young woman replies, then gestures at her bandaged head and wings with a hand. "But alive; I'll be fine in time. Beyond that … Shaken up. Did you … Did you see?"

The Karnor sits on a wooden stool next to the tub, and runs a hand through his hair. "Yes, I've gone through recordings from the sensor pack. Some… really fascinating readings by the way. Still… why did you chase after a glint of light? And leave the Titan to freeze to death?"

"The light, it … shouldn't have been, aye? Nothing in record could reach that altitude … Nothing except Expedition-era craft, weather balloons, ice crystals. And, we ruled out balloons and crystals. An Expedition-era craft unreported by the major governments, watching … I thought that was important to investigate. It could have been another space ship, a Titan, a spy platform … It … It wasn't." Taking a deep breath, Tasha closes her eyes a moment, then whispers, "The place … That hellish place … It almost killed me, Eli."

"You need some time to recover I think," Zerachiel says, reaching over to pat Tasha's cheek. "Melchior and your bio-suit need recharging, along with the sensor pack. You probably could do with some yourself. I didn't realize the sight of that rip in reality would shake you up so much."

Eyes closed again, Tasha recites in whisper, "Volcanic activity below … stator failure. Systems failing … Emergency. You remember … don't you?"

"Oh, like the Fenris crash," Zerachiel says quietly, and nods.

The young woman nods, albeit just a little. "It was almost over, Eli. I couldn't save myself … Melchior … he saved me."

"Do you want me to find a counselor for you?" Eli asks, rubbing his forearm now. "They have plenty available, I think, given all the combat and monsters and other issues of this world."

"I don't know, Eli. There's so much to think about … and so little time to work. Aren't you … used to me … like this?" She smiles a little, and winces for it.

"Do you really think you can do the scanning run without… ah… being distracted?" the Karnor asks. "And what can I or anyone do to make you feel less… " He seems at a loss for words, so just gestures to Tasha's hidden, water-logged body.

The woman's eyes crack open. "Mortal?" Tasha prompts, chuckling until she winces again. After taking a moment to let her body relax, she says, "Melchior was there for me when I was alone. I don't think I'll be chasing … distractions … soon. I can keep working. I have to … so little time … "

"What do you mean by so little time?" Zerachiel asks, leaning in closer. "Is something going to happen?"

Tasha begins to shrug, but stops, catching on. "Who knows?" She opens her eyes fully, and asks the man, quietly, "Eli, do you think what I started … what I'm trying to do … is the right thing?"

"Right?" Eli asks, looking confused. "We all came here to explore this system. It's our reason for being here. So of course I think it's right… but I don't think that's what you're asking. Do you mean; will it lead to problems?"

"Is it better we just … let people live their lives? Should we really continue? I'm not … leading people to their deaths, am I, … Eli?" The woman asks in a nearly inaudible whisper.

"I can't answer that," the man says, shaking his head. "The same questions were asked when the Expedition was formed. And you know what? We were still turning away volunteers. Some things are worth the risk, Tasha. But there will always be risk, even in just living your life."

"Maybe we should try and leave here … " Tasha mutters, looking away. She nods slowly, speaking after a few seconds of thought. "It's not that I don't … don't know that. My life was never … never safe. But it's not just mine … anymore … and … I … "

"Not responsible for how other choose to live," Zerachiel finishes. "You're only responsible for yourself, Tasha. It's normal to question your decisions after something traumatic, but remember that making a decision is something you do when clear headed. Don't let the trauma do it for you."

Tasha listens, staring at the wall, and after a moment she suddenly chuckles. "You sound like … him. I guess I'm just tired … I'll try and not make any important decisions for a while." Tilting her head down, she then asks, "My Titan is OK… ?"

"There was some gunk to clean off, but otherwise it just needs a recharge," Zerachiel says. "We're getting the reactor going again as we speak."

"Ha … haha … the gunk … vermite … haha – ow," Tasha chuckles, although there's no real mirth in her voice. After take a deep breath to calm herself, she says, "I need to … to report in. Will you stay, and … explain the readings … ?"

"Of course… but do you really want to do that from a bathtub?" the man asks. "It would be better for everyone to see you on your feet."

"Ugh," Tasha complains, looking down at herself. "Nurse, can I … ?"

"You must ressst," the Naga insists, arms crossed.

"I can work up a presentation of the data," Zerachiel says. "That will give you some time to recuperate."

"I've been … overruled," Tasha murmurs as she relents, returning her head to rest on the tub. "Yes, please … I know what I … saw … but the details … and that … thing … " She closers her eyes again, and asks, "You're the only one … to see me?"

"So far," Zerachiel says. "The Council is concerned, and the Silent-Ones have gone on full alert – they weren't sure if you were shot down or something."

"Weaponry … I could have … handled. Tell them … to stand down. I don't think … I hope … that thing cannot come here," the young woman insists.

"You need to get some sleep," Zerachiel says. "And nutrition. I'll get things started, explain that there's no immediate danger, and arrange a Council meeting for the day after tomorrow so you'll be back on your feet again."

"Thank you," Tasha whispers. "And Eli … thank you for waiting for me."

"Someone has to watch out for you," the Karnor says with a smile. "When I was stuck in a tub of water in Amazonia, you waited for me, didn't you?"

"We're family … it's what … we do," Tasha replies as quiet smile crossing her lips.