Landing 3, 6106 RTR (Nov 17, 2010) The promised tour of the Bellerophon is conducted by Tasha, who ends up revealing a great many more things than planned.
(Planet Abaddon) (Legacy of the Fenris) (Tasha)
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After a late night, Tasha awoke to realize she had to get things ready for the ship inspection. Luckily there were still some minor details to iron out with the Council, so she'd at least have a few hours. Of course, most of the ship is either empty or unfinished rooms, with a few quarters set up for different species – or else completely packed with cargo and gear from the Orpheus. The Silent-Ones Reaper was surrounded by boxes, and Melchior was little better off. The bio labs on the lower deck were also full of suspicious incubation tubes and other cloning gear – along with the mortal remains of Fallen-Star.

There was also the matter of the ghosts. "I guess we should just… hide?" Mariel asks Tasha in the corridor outside of the Captain's Quarters. SAINA rolled along the floor behind her, like some sort of mechanical pet.

Tasha rubs at her head, mussing her hair. With so much to do, and some of it physical labor, she has put off getting herself presentable until just before the Council arrives. "Ugh, hokay … Let's think." She tilts her head, hand falling, and gestures down the long corridor. "We decided it would be best if you, Fred and Nora behaved like true AIs. I'm not comfortable with that, but we need to avoid spooking the Council if we're to do more than follow the old JEF to a life on the ground. You could hide in your quarters – no need for the Council to be there, right? – and maybe take control of the robots if you want to observe. We also need to hide the glass incubation tubes for cloning, seal off the Avionics Bay, move cargo so it doesn't obscure the Titans so much, and go through each other room and make them presentable."

"Moving cargo will be hard," Mariel notes. "You'll need the power armor. And you're the only living person on board: Layth hasn't come back yet and Dr. Z is with the captain."

"Moving cargo was my whole childhood!" Tasha exclaims, throwing her hands out and laughing richly. "I'm all the ship needs, that way."

"Oh… well, I guess you could just move some stuff from one side to the other, to clear a path along one side of each Titan?" Mariel offers a bit shyly in the face of the laughter. SAINA even backs up a few feet – Tasha's laugh can have that effect on the uninitiated.

Tasha doesn't seem to notice the reaction, still grinning and sounding positive. "I also brought something that may be good for this: a wolf nanny bot. It looked so lonely, how could I not? It's unassuming and very friendly, perfect for coming with the tour and guiding any Ambassador that may need to depart early. I think it's a little damaged, but what isn't around here?"

"Has Fred gotten it working then?" Mariel asks, looking back towards the Mech Bay at the far end of the corridor.

"Maybe. Let's go look; I need my armor anyway. I think I'll wear it during the tour, too. It's part of our technological artifacts and it will help remind the Ambassadors not to wander!" Tasha slings her arm around Mariel's shoulders, laughing, and directs her down the hall as they head for the Mech Bay.

The workshop is… cluttered. There are bins full of random parts laying about, and leftovers from SAINA's construction. The nanny leans up against a storage cabinet, looking lonely. SAINA rushes past, and scoots into a little box with a charging port in it. "This is my nest," it claims.

"We all need a nest," Tasha agrees as she enters, looking around. "Fred? Are you in here? We're a few hours from the tour and we need you!" The young Vartan walks straight for the lupine-shaped robot which she found stored in a closeted nook not unlike SAINA's. Be it her sentimentality or maternal feeling, she just couldn't leave the nanny there to be forgotten.

"BRAINS!" the robot says, lurching to life and waving it's arms around. "Only not really," it says next, sounding like Fred. "I borrowed the robot so I could do stuff without the powersuit."

"Gah!" Tasha wails, stumbling back and nearly falling on her butt if not for a flap of the wings. She eyes the robot a moment, folding her arms. "Will that work for you, then? I'm thinking of having it come with me on the tour, to guide anyone who needs to leave and help me keep an eye on things. I also need my suit for a lot of lifting, so I may need to swap batteries before the tour," she inquires.

"The charger on this bot is a bit fritzy, but if you move slow enough it should do fine," Fred says. "Do you want me to run it though? I just realized it may seem odd for such a rugged, masculine and virile voice to be coming from a lady-bot."

"I was thinking Mariel would direct that robot, and you would contact me via my suit so I can answer any especially technical questions," Tasha replies. She resists the urge to hug the machine; it is very friendly looking. "And your voice is very nice, Fred," the living young woman adds, grinning.

"So… do I just… " Mariel asks, and then… steps into the robot. Once her arms and legs match up, the visible bits of the PersoCom vanish. "Okay," the robot says in Mariel's voice. "I think this will work."

"It suits you a lot better, Metal Mariel! In fact, I think it's adorable!" Tasha wags her tail, smiling at the robot and leaning over to fuss at the centuries old apron until it looks just right. "There! Now I'd better suit up."

"Do you need any help?" Mariel-bot asks. "I've never seen how your armor works before."

"Maybe, but you can definitely keep me company. I'm used to lifting crates with a lot of people around; it'll be fun! Just like my old life!" Tasha grins as she heads over to her suit, stepping in to it and pushing her arms in to their respective sockets, the suit folding up and around her as she says, "We're off after this, Fred. Let me know if you need anything else, and sorry to take your lady friend!"

"Shh, don't call her that in front of the kid," Fred says over the intercom. It's not clear who he's referring to as the 'kid' though.

"Fred is such an odd man," Tasha asides to Marielbot as they walk down the corridor, the footfalls of metal on metal heralding their approach. She pulls her helmet from under her arm, peering in to it. "Do you know, I may actually really like a Silent-One?" She eyes the protective headpiece this way and that, with no small amount of one-eyed, bird-like, staring. "I never thought I'd do more than tolerate them."

"Why wouldn't you like Fallen-Star?" Mariel asks, since that's the only Silent-One she knows of.

"Oh, I do," Tasha insists as she drops her helmet over her head, the seals hissing in to place. "But Fallen-Star is dead, and from a culture far in the past. Well, that's not really it. What is it, is that while I like Fallen-Star, I don't like the people she came from, and don't like Silent-Ones. I like her despite being a Silent-One." Tasha turns and heads in to the first room, looking it over. "What I mean is, maybe I'm wrong. I don't know. But I like him, and if he and Fallen-Star are this nice, maybe I misjudged them all?"

"I'm not sure who you are talking about," Mariel notes. The cabin they're inspecting is bare – to the point of not even having a bed. It was probably never fully installed – or else had been salvaged for the Fenris.

Tasha eyes the room, then shrugs and declares, "It's done!" before moving on. Turning for the door and the next room, she explains, "Archon Strength-of-Stones, the PHTO Silent-One Ambassador. I spent half the night with him and Feather-Tail, dancing and smoking and other things I never realized Savanites did on the surface."

"Oh… curious," Mariel says. It's hard to tell what her intonation means, since her face is immobile and fixed into a smile. "Have you met with all of the Council members?"

"All of them on arrival and in council, as least formally. I've spoken with over half of them privately, as well. The Archon actually invited me to music; it was completely unexpected. Did you know, he's around my age? I never realized there were others my age, also doing things like this." Tasha peeks in the next room, finds it the same as the last, and keeps going.

"Perhaps you have an advantage, being an alien," Mariel suggests. "None of the old biases or rules of protocol really apply to you."

"When I arrived on Abaddon, the first Silent-One I met called me a 'Confederate abomination," the red woman confides, ears laying back inside her helmet. "The Terrans – the Expedition now, that is – denied my request to become a citizen because I'm a hybrid, and most thought I was the product of rape between Vartan Confederates and Expedition Karnors. The Celestials seemed fine with me, though, and I never actually met the Confederates until I met the Colonel."

"Maybe if they didn't know you were from Sinai, they would have reacted similarly," Mariel supposes. The next room is presentable, but clearly made for a Naga, given the donut-shaped bed and lack of chairs.

"Colonel Talonstrike said something about being … what I appear to be, maybe that's it?" Tasha offers. She eyes the next room, and shakes her head. "I forgot how many empty rooms we have." She closes the door, and heads on. "Maybe we should split up and examine them in tandem, I can't help but feel we may run out of time otherwise. Meet me in the hangar?"

"Alright, but what am I looking for?" Mariel asks.

Tasha glances back as she heads down the hall, giving a one armed shrug before waving Mariel off to work. "Just make it tidy! Move boxes so they can see the fancy parts, and hide the cloning tanks! I'll start moving the heavy stuff on the top deck," the young Vartan calls out.


There's no moving the reactor when it comes to tidying up the Titan bay, but it's not too difficult to clear a path along the cradle, so that people would be passing below and to the side of Melchior. Granted, it's not as impressive when the Gryphon is laying face-down, but it does make it look bigger at least.

"I'm back," Mariel announces, and then plugs her tail into a wall receptacle to start recharging her battery. "I piled up boring stuff in front of the tanks, after covering them with a tarp."

The red half-Vartan turns from where she'd been gazing up at her Titan and nods appreciatively, smiling inside her helmet. "Good! It'll have to do. I managed to move these crates and expose at least the underside of the Titan. There's not too much I can do with the Reaper, given it is in the Cargo Bay, and not exactly cradled as it should be. But, at least they can see the head and shoulders." After taking one last glance around, Tasha tilts her head and asks, "Well, think we're as good as we're going to be?"

"Yes?" Mariel replies uncertainly. "Fred has things ready down in the Crystal Bay – he put a locking bar on the inside, so we can all hide down there and make sure nobody comes in."

"Oi, well, I guess that's all we can do. I'm used to scrapping wood and moving crates, not fixing up a metal ship for dignitaries!" Tasha laughs, then throws her arm around Mariel's robot, moving to look up at her Titan. "And soon, it looks like I'll be leaving. You'll miss me, won't you?"

"Where are you going?" Mariel asks. "Who will be staying? If they start finishing the ship's interior, will we have to hide all the time?"

"I'm being dispatched on my first official mission for the JEF: taking the Melchior to the Pit of Himaar to scan for water, so they can put less effort in to drilling and more in to helping us," Tasha explains, gazing up in to the lens-encrusted depths of the Titan's eyes. "I assume repairs will be underway after I leave. And to be honest, I don't know what will happen then. Nora suggested you, she, and Fred act like true AIs around the new crew and other personnel, but the more I think about that, the less I like it."

"That would be tricky, if they tried to touch us," Mariel admits. "Too bad you couldn't just tell everyone we were specialists in ancient Expedition systems. Or… that we're ghosts. If the Captain and Dr. Z just ignore us around others, then we could pretend to be ghosts."

Tasha frowns, leaning her head over until it clinks against the robot's metal one. "I don't know. I'm really afraid that if they realize what you all are, and how we brought you back, that they'll be affronted. Or worse. There's a lot of secrets we can't share, and I don't like it. What's even worse, is that the whole reason I started all this was to honor the memory of you, and all those like you. But what kind of honoring am I doing, if I just end up making you suffer more, in your own home?" Tasha breathes a sigh, head lowering. She reaches to rub her eyes, but pauses, remembering it's useless. "I just wanted to create something good."

"Well, you could always just… take apart the artifact," Mariel suggests, a bit nervously. "I mean, once the new bodies were ready, we'd need to be turned off in order for stuff to work, wouldn't we? I'm not sure how spirits work… it's weird that there are two versions of the Captain and Dr. Z."

"I am not at all comfortable with any of this," Tasha insists, sounding sad. "You, Fred, and Nora, you're part of my family – you're all my friends! I followed Nora here, because she asked me to. It's not a lie to say I did all of this for her, in a sense! I can't stand what happened to you! I just … just … " With a heave, Tasha pulls her helmet off and lets it clatter to the floor, rubbing her face now that she can, ears flat. With a breath, she admits, "I'm afraid, Mariel. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing, I'm afraid I'll lose all of you, I'm afraid that's selfish, and that maybe I'm losing sight of some things while trying to be others. Nora would know what to do, I … I don't. I just keep going forward, never really knowing what I'm doing, and if we'll be alright."

"Would knowing for sure actually help though?" Mariel asks. "I mean, I question myself all the time, but if I always knew the right course… well, I wouldn't really be making a choice at all, right? And… well, we… the PersoComs… we aren't fragile. We were dead for six thousand years and… uh… survived… that. Sort of."

Tasha smiles a little, if sadly. "I guess you're right. I'm just worrying too much, trying to be Nora while also trying to be myself, leading without really knowing. But, if I hadn't decided this, then we'd have never gotten this far; I'd never have met you, this ship would still be decaying, and I'd have parted ways with Gabriel and the others after my duty was done. And, I'd be regretting it now. So, what I mean is … " Tasha glances down at her helmet, then with a swipe of her hands, grabs it. "… I need to get ready!" She leaves over and kisses the robot on the temple, then stuffs her helmet under her arm, turning to face Mariel. "Whatever happens, Mariel, I am always on your side. If this new arrangement bothers you, tell me, and I'll just tell them the truth and live with the consequences. I won't sacrifice JEF personnel just for appearances!"

"Oh-okay," Mariel says, still recharging the robot body. "I'll be quiet unless spoken too, I guess… "

Tasha nods, then pats Mariel on the shoulder as she walks past her, heading for her quarters to get ready. "Remember, you can always come to me. If you're all happy, and we're still moving forward, then I know I've done well." Somewhere out in the hall, Mariel can hear Tasha mutter, "We'll see if I do my hair well … "

After washing up using Gabriel's shower (which necessitated having to dry off, which led to a bit of fluffiness), Tasha returned to her quarters to lay out her uniform in case she needed to change quickly, then donned her undersuit and power armor again – foregoing the helmet though, since she'd just washed and combed her hair! The gloves should be enough of a clue that the armor uses both Vartan and Terran technologies. Messages are sent to Gabriel and the others through the collar, and she heads for the gangway.

"Mother, forward this announcement to all crew aboard the ship: "Attention crew: the PTHO Council members will being embarking shortly for their tour, please prepare yourselves,"" Tasha bids the optical computer as she makes her way towards the aft airlock, trying her best to boost her confidence. By the time she's nearing the airlock she's feeling better, having reminded herself of all the things she did do right, and how far they've come.

The same two guards are there at the foot of the gangplank, Bradley and "Peanut" Pearce. They salute when Tasha arrives. There's no sign yet of the Council entourage, but there is a familiar long-eared form leaning against a crate near the hangar entrance. Aaron waves a hand to Tasha.

The salute is returned and Tasha just begins to settle in to an at-ease stance when she notices Aaron's wave. This makes the woman blink – she had forgotten all about Aaron and the others! Groaning inwardly, but smiling outwardly, she inclines her head to the man who had traveled worlds with her. "Ahoy, Master Lightfoot." Her tone is calm, professional, and utterly unlike the woman he had know, with the only other time he's heard her like this being upon greeting the PHTO council. "I'm sorry I haven't had the time to meet with you. I've been very busy."

The Lapi comes closer, but stays off to one side of the ramp. "I can imagine," he says, and smiles. "Still, holding up okay? All this responsibility agreeing with you? Snazzy armor by the way, even if it does hide your curves."

Tasha's head follows the man's movements, and lingers briefly when he stops. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing and if I'm doing it the right way. Then I'm reminded we all have doubts, and we must move forward, because if we don't, who will?" She takes in a deep breath, eyes and head resuming their search for the approaching council members. "The JEF deserves sacrifices; if it's a burden on me, it's not too much to bear."

"And it is very shiny armor, isn't it?" Tasha adds, a brief smile crossing her muzzle.

"No regrets! You're too young for that," Aaron notes, and does reach over to buff a spot on the metal with the heel of his hand. "Wait until you're my age before worrying about what you could or couldn't have done – you know, when you aren't so busy actually doing things," he advises with a grin.

"I certainly am doing a lot, that's for sure." Tasha gives the man a smile, which lingers this time. "Thank you for helping me get this far. Even if our travels together are at an end, I want you to know I appreciate all you've done for me, and for us. I wish I could repay you, and if I can, I will."

"Well, I also came to ask if you needed any help from the… well, you know… " the buck says, holding his hands at shoulder height and wiggling his fingers like he's casting a spell. "Also if you needed anything delivered to or sent back from Sinai."

"The … " Tasha wiggles her hands, even as her expression hardens. "Well." She eyes the man, then, for some reason, averts her gaze and looks down. Seconds later, her head shakes. "That is something I need to deal with, isn't it. If I don't, that would be … No." Her head shakes again, and she looks up, eyes focused and determined. "Tell them I would like to meet with them at their convenience, if not within the next few days, then upon my return – or they can speak with the Captain. I need to remedy something, and I'd best do it as … Do it. Also, I need to prepare a letter for my mother and The Rake, requesting their services for a potential minor expedition to Sinai."

"Okay, need any… I dunno… paper to write on?" Aaron asks, looking up at the ship. "It seems bigger than the last one. If you want a mage, it's always best to spell out exactly what you want too… but I can help you with that if you need it. It's my business to… do business with them, after all."

"I'd like to … to arrange a meeting, and discuss … Discuss potential … ," the half-Vartan sucks in a deep breath, rolls her eyes skyward in a 'heaven help me,' gesture and focuses her gaze back on the Lapi. "Discuss a potential alliance and or other matters of a potential, mutual, benefit. There!" The young woman exhales, ears flicking and head shaking. "There. It's done. Tell them. And, tell them I may need their expertise, to determine if returning to Sinai won't kill me."

"What?" Aaron asks, looking shocked. "Why would it kill you? That… that's a suit of armor right, not your actual body?"

"What?" Tasha echoes, looking down. She blinks, then suddenly laughs, head shaking as she pats the suit's chest with a clang, clang noise. "Oh, no. I'm not this much of a machine – at least not yet. Who knows with the ways things are going?" Looking back up, her expression sobers again, and she taps her head with a metallic finger. "I don't know if you overheard last time, but I have wires in my head, something called a neural link. It allows me to talk to machines, and them to talk to me, via my brain and muscles. It's also a machine. The last thing I need is my head exploding upon returning to my homeworld; then, I'd never get anything done." With her tone so flat, it's hard to tell if she's joking or not.

This time, Aaron clearly is holding back laughter. He puts a fist to his mouth and coughs loudly. "Oh… well… unless it does your thinking, you won't be affected," he explains. "I've seen Sav… Silent-Ones in powered armor on Sinai. The machinery doesn't work, usually, but it doesn't explode either. I mean, how much technology did we cart all over the place before getting it back here to where it would work?"

"Well, let's hope I'm the same way. I'm not expecting anything, but I've been drilled on safety and double-checks, and so I'm a lot more careful than I used to be. At most, I'll probably see and hear things, if the net is disturbed." She glances across the hangar again, checking, and looks back. "I should note I won't be here very much longer. In a few days, I'll be departing on the Melchior to scan the Pit of Himaar. I'm not sure when I'll return."

"Yeah, I'll be on that trip too," Aaron notes. "The Ajax is the only way in or out of this place. At least those Council people are entertaining. The old bat will tell the most filthy shaggy-dog stories at the drop of a bug, and Rapatia is terrible at boardgames but keeps playing on and on… "

"I saw. I like her; she's offered to be my martial instructor, if all goes well. I haven't spoken directly to Senator Cornelius, but he seems extremely sharp and I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of his wit." Being reminded of the Council, Tasha casts another searching glance, then continues again. "It'll be nice to see the Ajax and travel again. And, it will be the first time I'll be on my own, if you don't count the Melchior. Maybe we can talk more then, before we part company?"

"Sure! I have some business in the Pit anyway… not sure what the does are planning though," Aaron says. "They've locked themselves in the suite with Layth and kicked me out. I don't suppose I get to go on the tour with the others though, even though I've been to the Fenris already?"

"Ah, the does are here too, aren't they. I actually feel a little bad, given I never treated Aisha that well, and Calligenia helped me so much. It's good they have Layth and I'm not a big concern. It feels like a poor 'thank-you' for me to move on without thanking them, and somewhat less to ask you to do it, but if it comes to that, will you please tell them thank you?" Tasha reaches back and rubs her ear, head tilting as she thinks. "As for a tour, I'll inquire of the Captain and the Council, so stand by. I'll wave you up if you're clear."

Aaron salutes and returns to his out-of-the-way crate. And just in time, as Tasha can see a crowd approaching the hangar along the main corridor. Too much of a crowd! Gabriel is leading, although he seems to be talking to Vesuvius more than anything else. Behind him are the Council members… and behind them are their bodyguards! So instead of eight dignitaries, there's a mob of sixteen including the guards.

"Well," Tasha murmurs under her breath, but Aaron's Lapi ears can easily pick it up. The young woman return to her at-ease position until the group begins to near, then snaps to attention and prepares to salute.

Gabriel salutes as he reaches the gangplank, and says, "Cadet Argentine – don't let the soldiers aboard. Can we handle all eight Council members or should we split them up?"

The salute is returned sharply, then the woman settle back in to an at-ease stance. "Understood, Captain. Clearance in the hangars and in several labs has been increased, so we should be able to handle most, if not all, the Council members. Baring that, the Karnornoid Automated Nanny has been deployed to assist."

"The… " Gabriel starts to ask, then just blinks and skips it for now. "Well, I leave it to you to escort the Council members," he says. "As a show of good faith, I'll be remaining out here with their bodyguards."

"Very good, Captain." Tasha salutes again, then turns to walk to the man's side, facing the Council and their amassed body guards. "As we agreed, I will now conduct a tour of the Joint Expeditionary Flagship Bellerophon, heavy scout class, inter-planetary, trans atmospheric survey vessel. For your own safety, please refrain from handling any of the technological artifacts and control surfaces." Tasha, sweeping her gaze across the group, nods as if satisfied, and then bids, "Ambassadors, please follow me – and welcome aboard the JEF Bellerophon."

"Us first!" Rapatia squawks, as she pushes the Senator's wheelchair forward. This earns her a lot of complaining squeaks from her charge, most of which are, "Slow down you crazy woman!"

Tasha coughs down a chuckle, having to lower her gaze briefly to even manage that much. When she's recovered, she holds a hand out to forestall any rushing. "Please, Colonel. There is plenty of ship to go around. Now," Tasha gestures behind her, "we will proceed in the the aft airlock, which is the primary loading and unloading airlock for the ship. A brief scan will commence once the doors close, during which I'll explain some other things. And just before we enter, Captain," Tasha glances at her make and leader, "if it's no trouble to the ship or the ambassadors, I would like to Master Lightfoot accompanied us, as a veteran of the Fenris expedition."

"I see no problem with it," Gabriel says. At the mention of the Lapi having been on the Fenris expedition, a few the Council turn and give him questioning looks. After all, he probably spoke to all of them on the trip out, and just failed to mention that tidbit. The buck ignores this and hurries to the end of the line.

Tasha keeps her gaze on her Captain, not wanting to draw any more attention to the buck than necessary. "Thank you, Captain." One more salute, then Tasha turns and proceeds up the ramp with a clung-clunk of suit. Turning again once inside the airlock, the young woman bids, "Please arrange yourselves comfortably as you gather inside; the scan will take a few minutes."

The council immediately splits up into two different factions: the ones that are eager to get aboard, including Strength-of-Stones, Dr. Drake and Rapatia (along with the Senator, who has no choice) and the more sedate crowd; Cromwell and Alteiri, Sssistho and Scholar-to-Aliens. Aaron is at the rear, biting back all the no doubt embarrassing questions that might fluster Tasha if he asked them out loud.

Once the tour has assembled, Tasha cocks her head upwards and says, "Mother, close the aft airlock and begin cycling, scanning. The tour is aboard." With that done and the outer door closing, the armored half-Vartan gestures at herself. "While we wait, allow me to explain my powered suit. This is a hybridized, environmental, powered suit: the Achilles Class Environmental Suit combined with Terran Karnor powered gauntlets, and helmet." Tasha lifts her hands, flexing them for everyone to see. "The gloves and helmet come from Terran exploratory and defense powered armors, while the Achilles was created for Vartan mercenaries defending the original fleet. It is not battle armor."

"Where you find it?" Rapatia asks. "Got more?"

"Can you fly in it?" Dr. Drake asks.

"How do you go to the bathroom?" Strength-of-Stones's gauntlet says.

"The exact location of the acquired technology remains restricted, for reasons I'll elaborate on during this tour. We do, however, have several more suits in storage." "Yes; the suit has a flight mode, enabling full, albeit unaugmented, flight. I can fly as well as I normally can, but not better." "I-" Tasha pauses, giving the Archon a look, then soldiers on. "I can exit the suit. Barring that, I am also wearing a mesh undersuit that is designed to store body waste and monitor my vital functions. It is powered as well, but much thinner, and works with my powered armor."

"But it makes you stronger?" the other Karnor, Altieri asks. "Or does it just make normal things less tiring?"

"The suit provides power enough to move it without fatigue on the user. In times of need, it can also increase or reduce its powered assist, allowing for feats of strength or delicate precision work," Tasha explains as lights on the control panel behind her shift and blink."

"Does it itch?" Aaron asks, finally.

"No," Tasha replies, settling her eyes on the buck. "The undersuit does move with you, however, which can be disconcerting at first. You get used to it after about a week."

A chime sounds, and the door to the suit-lock (a large airlock where the various powered suits are also stored) opens.

"Let's proceed inside. Here, you can see our various powered suit – the modified white Terran model is Cadet Layth's, while the gray, armed, suit is the Captain's. My suit would also be stored here, if it's not being stored in the Mech Bay." With a wave of her hand, Tasha directs the group to follow her inside, where she takes up position beside Gabriel's suit.

Everyone fits, and Cornelius mutters something about lower lips on doors. Aaron eyes every suit with suspicion, lest one come to life and attack them.

"Do you have any for Nagas?" Dr. Drake asks.

"Mother, close the exterior suit bay door and cycle the interior when ready," Tasha bids, talking to the air again. Perhaps sensing people's confusion, she explains, "MOTHER is our Silent-One optical computer, installed as a joint-venture between the Silent-Ones of the day, and the other fleet specie, in order to provide a alternative-technology backup system that is resistant to the Sifran Probability Matrix. Mother is an AI, and supports ship functions as well as monitors against SPF corruption." And to answer the posed question, Tasha replies, "We do not, unfortunately. It may be possible to construct some; it will need to be looked in to."

"MOTHER?" Aaron squeaks, and then looks about to panic when the door closes.

"Not the same MOTHER, Master Lightfoot." Tasha tells her friend, walking over to lay her hands on his shoulders, to calm him. She watches him for a moment, concerned, then glances to the others. "The original MOTHER was corrupted by several sources. While it managed to preserve some of the crew, it also murdered Lieutenant Commander Nora Argentine, the current acting XO, and killed several natives before we located and addressed it. As a final attack, it attempted to incinerate us during our departure, using the engines of the Titan Themis-Skoll. As you may imagine, these are unpleasant memories for us."

"How could it control the other systems?" Scholar-to-Aliens gauntlet-asks.

"We're not completely sure, but we believe it accessed personal datastores and was able to acquire the Lieutenant's codes, allowing it to gain more access than permitted. There are also concerns of incorrect coding, as well as Sinaian-field corruption. The original MOTHER was several thousand years old, and had been operating in a heavy SPF environment. The exact cause of it's complete mental breakdown can only be speculated at," answers Tasha, who keeps a very neutral face through the entire explanation. She squeezes Aaron's shoulders, then lets go, heading back for her post.

"We have not seen any errant tendencies here on Abaddon," Scholar-to-Aliens reports. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but the gauntlets all have the same monotone voice.

Tasha nods her head slowly, but seems content to let the matter drop, because she turns to the interior door and says, "Our tour will begin here, in the aft ramp airlock, and proceed along the lower deck. Beyond these doors is the Vehicle Bay, which is largely filled with cargo, but does have our sole vehicle."

The sight of the huge, multi-wheeled truck gathers some real attention from the visitors. This is something familiar enough to them that they can be impressed by it. "Look at the suspension – it's like wheels on legs," Dr. Drake coos.

Tasha smiles, both at the appreciation, and glad they've left the memories of MOTHER 1 behind, where they belong. "The 'Big Truck,' as we call it, was primarily used to move loads throughout the interior of the JEF Carrier Orpheus, and has done much the same for us in loading the Bellerophon. It features individual suspension, power, and turning, for each wheel, and can even raise or lower its legs and bed, as needed. The cabin is very spacious, and features a number of safety, assist, and other gadgets. During our preparing the Bellerophon, I was the driver of the Big Truck."

"So it can handle any terrain?" "What's this thing it's sitting on… is it a door?" "Do those cable things lower it through the floor?" "What fuels it?" "How fast does it go?"

"It can handle most uneven terrain, but it certainly can't fly or go up walls!" The red woman smiles all the more; vehicles are something she can really talk about with enthusiasm. "That is a door. When the Bellerophon is hovering over a location, the truck – and other items – can be lowered through those floor airlocks so that the Bellerophon needn't land to deploy equipment, vehicles, and personnel." "The truck is fueled by powerful batteries and a set of electric motors. It is recharged via the Bellerophon's power systems, like most of our equipment, including my suit." "As for speed, it needs to be kept slow inside, but in open terrain it can maintain a reasonable clip. In fact, I'll ask." While she says she'll ask, Tasha seems to just stare in to space a moment, smiling.

Fred chimes in Tasha's head, "It tops out at 50 kilometers per hour on flat ground. Not a speedster, and slower of course with a big load."

After standing around for several seconds, Tasha suddenly answers, "50 kilometers per hour, slower with heavy loads." She walks over to the big vehicle, laying her hand on its hood. "New personnel may get to learn to drive the truck. We hope to load several more vehicles for various duties, when they are available." She glances over her shoulder, asking, "Do you have any further questions, or shall we proceed to the Bio Labs?"

The group is happy to move on, it seems, and ignores the rest of the stuff in the vehicle bay as a result.

In truth, Tasha isn't even sure what all is in the vehicle bay; being able to talk about, and lead, when she doesn't know half of what's what has been the name of the game for, these days. Once in the hall, Tasha extends her arms out to both sides, indicating the doors to each side of her. "Here we have the Bio Labs, which handle our biology needs. As I am not a scientist, I cannot fully explain them to you, but I believe several of you are familiar with what they entail. Dr. Zerachiel and our AI medical doctor are their usual occupants. Previously, the synthesized food for us, and now, are in the process of being rebuilt with parts acquired from Sheol."

"So… they are for analyzing flora and fauna?" Dr. Drake asks.

"And much more. They appear to be capable of creating basic meats, analyze life structures, and other things. These labs would be where any special plant or animal life would be created to suit your needs, from DNA stores we acquired – the Terran Trade Library." Tasha then turns, walking to the main lab so that the door slides open. "As you can see, it's mostly packed, but the synthesizing tubes used to create our meals are still active."

"It very shiny," Rapatia comments. Nobody touches anything, but Cornelius asks, "Can you make bugs? No decent bugs to eat on this base."

"Most likely. I'll forward that request to the Doctors. Moving on … " Tasha steps back from the door and waits until everyone is done looking, then proceeds one set of doors down. "To my left is bio-storage, where all the needed chemicals and biological agents are stored for the bio lab. To my right is the Geo Lab, where rocks, minerals, and so on, are analyzed, or so I'm told. I imagine it'll see a lot of use when we begin scanning for water, but for now, it's largely in crates."

Crates and things covered in tarps don't seem to fire the imaginations of the visitors. Cornelius is starting to look bored.

Tasha watches the elderly bat, and decides it's time for something exciting. "These next few rooms on either side remain empty, so we'll skip them, the armory, artifact bay, and avionics bay for expediency, given half are restricted at this time. So! Why don't we head to the Titan bays?" Tasha glances back, grinning widely. "And when the tour concludes, there'll be gifts."

Everyone perks up at the mention of gifts.


While there was plenty of interest in the crew quarters (with various Council members testing the furniture meant for their particular species) and the Medical Bay with its stasis tubes and robot garnered a lot of respect, it was the Titans that stole the show.

The Archon is a bit disappointed about not being able to access the cockpit of the Reaper, but Tasha's passion for Melchior shows through in her presentation. Throughout it all, Mariel-bot and SAINA observe quietly.

Standing before her Titan, Tasha gestures back at it with her right hand as she continues her historical review. "A Khattan Trade Empire construction for an unknown Vartan mercenary project, the Tech Level 2, Magi Class, Gryphon Melchior features direct neural interface with its pilot, and houses an on-board AI system that is fully interactive. In order to pilot the Melchior, invasive cranial surgery was performed, as well as extensive sensory tattooing." Tasha turns her gesturing hand so the tattoo can be clearly seen then takes her other hand and pushes her hair aside so her neural plugs can be seen as well.

"Very shiny," Rapatia says in approval, while Aaron looks a bit queasy. The others seem less shocked, but do crowd in close to look at the tattoos. "Are they all over you?" Strength-of-Stones asks.

"They trail from the interface point down my back, where they're most dense due to the underlying spine. From there they travel across my wings, arms and hands, and down my legs. When operational, they glow blue," Tasha explains. In order to demonstrate properly, she had to remove her powered armor, which allowed her to remove or open parts of her undersuit to show the areas surgery was performed. As she turns and reveals, she catches Mariel's robotic 'eye,' her gaze lingering as a frown crosses her face; soon, though, she moves on.

The wolf-bot can't show any expression on its face, but it does wring its apron nervously from the frown. The display seems to impress them… but whether it's the circuit-tattoos or the way the armor slides open and closed is difficult to tell when facing away from them.

Once done demonstrating the degree to which she is a cyborg, Tasha replaces the removed parts of her suits and begins heading back for her armor. "The powered armor and the Melchior were located within the same hangar bay, left behind due to an early transfer of personnel aboard the carrier. The Reaper-class Silent-One Titan – who's name we don't yet know – belonged to a Commander Bathed-in-Gold, and was likely left behind due to space considerations. Some of the members of that evacuation may well be your ancestors," the young red woman goes on to relate.

"We keep very good genealogy records," Scholar-to-Aliens relays via gauntlet.

As she climbs in to her suit, and the suit closes up around her, Tasha nods – albeit stiffly given the pressure-collar is closing around her neck. "You may be able to locate the name, and lineage, of the Reaper's owner. We haven't yet decided what to do with it, but any interest in the machine will definitely be considered."

"Hah, any descendants would have to fight a war with each other to see who got it!" Cornelius cackles, earning him a sharp glance from Scholar-to-Aliens and silent grins from the others.

Tasha coughs at the mention of a war over the machine and pats her chest with a metal-encrusted hand. "Let's leave deciding who gets what for the negotiation table," she insists, turn to face the others and smiling. Even as she sweeps a smile over them, she sends, "SAINA, are you prepared to approach the Council? I'll introduce you, if you like?"

There's a commotion as the little robot pushes through the crowd, changing course only to avoid the wheelchair. It stops next to Tasha and spins around to face the Council. "It ran over my foot," Cromwell mutters.

Tasha bows in apology, then holds a hand out to indicate the robot beside her. "The JEF and the group this little robot represents apologize for the inconvenience. Neither of us were able to provide a suitably advanced body on short notice. That said, please let me introduce the Sheol's first ambassador, SAINA, of the Sheollian Artificial Intelligence Nation." To show her respect, and to not tower over the robot, the young woman takes several steps back and bows again.

"Greetings, squishy water bags of Abaddon," the robot says, and dips its camera-head in lieu of a bow. "We wish only peace. We promise not to rain down destruction from on high, and would like to keep communications open. End Of Line."

"I not that squishy," Rapatia mutters. Everyone but the Silent-Ones mutter and shrug a bit, until Dr. Drake asks, "What do you want to communicate about… ambassador?"

"We have not determined what there is to talk about as of yet, but I hope to discover common interests in my time here," SAINA says.

Tasha suddenly seems to have, perhaps, inhaled down the wrong pipe, because she starts coughing violently. Upon seeing the assembled ambassadors haven't become mortally offended, or broken out in laughter, the couching vanishes shortly after. Rubbing her throat, Tasha says, "Please be patient with the ambassador, it has literally only been alive for less than a week, and is currently adjusting. When provided to us, the ambassador was entirely software."

"Who made the robot then?" Gustav asks. He seems to be the engineering sort among the delegates.

"That would be … Be our engineering … Our engineering AI," Tasha answers, albeit uncomfortably. She takes a breath, glancing at the small robot representative, then exhales and says, "Why don't you all get to know the ambassador? You're also free to examine the Titans so long as you don't not attempt to board or manipulate control surfaces. I won't crowd you, so if you need me, I'll be by the interior hatch."

While the visitors group around the odd little robot, Mariel makes her way over to Tasha. "I think things are going well," she confides.

Tasha walks up to the control panel of the hatch, staring at it as if not really seeing it. It seems at first, that maybe she didn't hear Mariel, but then she suddenly states, "I may be about to ruin that." Putting her back to the assembly, and raising her hand, she gestures at the reader, "MOTHER, secure inquiry: can you spoof a failure of the interior Titan bay hatch, such that it would seem to require localized repair by two separate individuals?" Then, glancing up, Tasha asks Mariel, "You know what I'm going to do, don't you? Do you know why?"

"You mean to lock them all in here… to see how they cooperate?" Mariel asks quietly.

Several options appear on the terminal screen next to the door: Engineering Test Simulation 376B – Emergency Door Operation, Engineering Test Simulation 490A – Hydraulic System Failure…

Tasha pauses, grinning a little. "That would be interesting, but no." Eying MOTHER's response, Tasha signs, "MOTHER: execute spoof failure Engineering Test Simulation 376B – Emergency Door Operation, arrange so internal repairs are required that cannot be performed from inside the Titan bay. Dispatch this request to Nora and Fred ten seconds after the simulated failure:" "Nora, Fred, looks like we have a problem; please come to the hatch and repair the door, or we're going nowhere fast. I'll handle the Council in the mean time." "Conceal origin and nature of simulation, authorization Nora Argentine, current CO. MOTHER, execute." As Tasha leans back, exhaling, ears canting back and expression somewhere between distant and worried, she says, "No one should have to feel like a prisoner in their own home."

Several lights flash red on the panel, and the green ones go out completely.

"I can't say I understand this," Mariel admits.

"I didn't either, until the Colonel and the Archon reminded me of something important. The hatch will seal shortly, let's stand and look surprised." Smiling over at the robot beside her, Tasha reaches to pat the machine's arm before turning to watch the crowd.

"Can you serve drinks?" Scholar-to-Aliens asks of SAINA, just as the pressure alarm on the door goes off. Everyone turns to look towards the hatch then.

Tasha's ears perk, and she swings around to watch the door, brows raising, "Oi, what's that?" She asks aloud, reaching back to scratch her head. Mariel can hear her whisper, "Something's been nagging at me these last few days, even while I tried to convince myself it was necessary." Louder, Tasha calls out, "Don't be concerned! It's just detecting foreign particulate from the ravine as a biological unknown, and sealing the area as quarantine. I'll override it!"

"Mariel," Tasha drops in to whisper again. "What kind of person does that make me, to be willing to sacrifice the very people I believe in, for an organization I claim to be inclusive? A family?" The young woman sounds disappointed, even disgusted.

"Iss something wrong?" Kessa asks, slithering towards the hatch. This prompts the others to follow after her.

"I… are you talking about us, Tasha?" Mariel asks, her volume at minimum.

"This could be problematical," Gustav notes. "The systems will need to be attuned to Abaddonian elements to avoid this in the future, won't they? Can it even be done?"

Before Tasha turns to face the approaching crowd, Mariel can see a faint smile cross her face as she says, "You're part of our family, too." Turning, Tasha shakes her head to the Council. "No, actually … There's something I need to say, to all of you – and it's not about any door. This isn't an emergency. It's a simulation. I spoofed the failure in order to rectify a shameful mistake in judgment. If you all will, please join me in front of the hatch?" The young woman gestures to the currently flashing temperature, then nods Mariel to follow, too.

Everyone looks at one another and huddles close, only to be rearranged by SAINA pushing through.

Tasha exits her powered suit so that she's just a woman, no stronger or more dangerous than any of them. She walks towards the front of the closed hatch, and spreads her arms. "I'm sorry to trick you; I'm not very good with these sorts of things. Colonel," Tasha nods to the other Vartan woman, "you know me to be a straightforward woman, and honest, I believe. What I am not, is infallible, and I have made a sad decision I intend to correct, right now. You told me that I always have a family waiting for me, and I understand now what you were trying to tell me: my family didn't turn their back on me because I had changed; in changing I had turned my back on my family. Colonel," the young woman smiles, tilting her head, "Family, clan; is there anything more important?"

"In the long run, no," Rapatia says… although Cornelius mutters something about good dentistry.

The younger Vartan nods; she had expected no other answer. Her gaze shifts to the Archon now, and she raises her hand to sign even as she speaks, "Archon, by your kindness and openness, you taught me two things, even if, perhaps, you didn't mean to. The first is that in forming the JEF, I have forgotten myself in an attempt to live up to the ideal I thought was correct. The second, is that my belief that prejudice and exclusion truly has no place in our JEF – and no place in myself."

"I am glad to have been an inspiration," the Archon signs, but doesn't have translated by the gauntlet. "Dance is very powerful."

"A kind heart seems to be even more so," Tasha replies, smiling. The smile fades soon enough as the young woman sweeps her gaze across those assembled, replaced by concentration, and a focus that might be construed as an expression of consideration.

After a heavy silence, the young woman seems to come to a decision, and nods to herself. "MOTHER, state the location of Mariel Mathers, Fred Kohler and Nora Argentine."

Signs flash on the terminal screen. "PC Mathers is one meter starboard from your current position. PCs Kohler and Argentine are both one meter forward and one and three meters starboard respectively."

"Archon, would you please translate that sign for the others?" Tasha requests.

Strength-of-Stone uses his gauntlet to translate, and afterwards everyone is staring at the Karnor-shaped robot, which doesn't respond other than to wave slightly.

Only Aaron is still looking at Tasha. He's the only one that would recognize the names anyway.

Tasha glances at the robotic form Mariel has inhabited, and steps over towards her, reaching an arm to wrap around its shoulders. Her free hand pats the robot's, even as Tasha says, "It'll be okay, Mariel. I'm sorry. It's time I made my promise more than words. You know Nora would never have come if asked; she'll sacrifice anything for the mission – even her own happiness. Well, this is where we sacrifice for all of you." Leaning back, but not letting Mariel go, Tasha calls out, "MOTHER, terminate Titan hangar interior hatch simulation – release the door!"

The hatch opens, revealing Fred and Nora hastily packing tools into a box.

"What did you do on Sheol, Tasha?" Aaron asks, eyes wide. "You hate magic!"

It hasn't occurred to the Council that they're looking at ghosts. "You have a maintenance crew from Tartarus working already?" Kessa asks in surprise.

Tasha releases Mariel now, and turns to face the two crewmen, who had been ordered to hide, until now. "Magic is just a word," Tasha says, watching Fred and Nora scramble. "Just like 'Silent-One,' machine, … ghost. What matters, is something more. Nora, Fred, stand up please." After a pause, Tasha glances back and replies. "No. They are my seniors, and my role models. Let me introduce them, once they adjust."

Fred and Nora exchange a glance, and then stand at ease and smile to the dignitaries.

Tasha looks back long enough to make sure Nora and Fred haven't retreated, then turns herself to face the crowd and their bewildered faces. Well, too late now, Tash. Time to live up to that big speech, she tells herself, followed by an internal insistence she is not stalling because she's nervous.

Tasha presses a smile, urging herself to keep talking. And so, she glances at the robot beside her, and says, "Mariel, why don't you come out and join us, please? It's alright; this is your home, after all. There's nothing to fear."

"I haven't figured out how to do that yet, Tasha," Mariel admits. "This is my first time in a robot."

The younger Vartan chuckles, then waves Nora over to help Mariel. After hesitating, she just waves Fred on over, too, before turning back to the crowd. After a breath, and another sweeping smile, she announces, "May I present to you, by means we do not fully understand but we value them all the same: Lieutenant Commander Nora Argentine, Chief Engineer Fred Kohler, and Junior Technician Mariel Mathers, of the TSS Fenris."

"I thought there were only the three survivors?" Cromwell asks. The others seem confused as well. Aaron just stares at them.

"In a sense, that is correct," Tasha replies, with a nod. She then extends her arm and reaches through Fred's torso.

"Geez, Tasha… " Fred notes. "If you wanted to mess around you just had to ask… "

This causes and uproar… and lots of poking. "Ghosts!" Rapatia squawks. "Well, spirits," Aaron notes. "Demon working!" Scholar-to-Aliens electronically declares. "How are they able to use the tools?" Kessa asks. Cornelius is asleep.

"Shush, I'm trying to be dramatic here," Tasha mock-whispers back, glad for Fred's cheerful nature and humor popping up at just the right time. The hand is pulled back, and Tasha then gestures at the three figures. "They are not alive, in the sense we are alive. But they are people, with the memories and feelings of their namesakes. I don't pretend to understand how this can be; call them ghosts if you will, but I think that's ignorance."

"And please show them respect," Tasha adds, eying all the poking disapprovingly.

"Can you pleassse explain how they came to be?" Sssistho-Sephra asks, very calmly.

Tasha nods, bowing slightly do Sssistho-Sephra and his calm approach. "I will, thank you." Glancing at the others to make sure they're listening and not poking, the red woman explains, "In the time of the Expedition Fleet, the Terran Military – and other nationalities – employed what is known as a 'PersoCom System.' This system allowed its user to record vital memories, such as skills, and also their personalities, as a means of emergency backup should they be unable to act. I was tasked with bringing these embedded memories to Sheol by the PersoCom of Nora Argentine, and so I have. There, we were able to integrate them with this ship – but that is not why they are as you seem them. The Sifran artifacts have also interfaced with the system, and by means we do not understand, have not only recalled these memories, but memories and personality beyond what those crystals contained. They are, in essence, Sifran technology combined with Terran and Silent-One technology. But more than that, they are people, they are JEF, and they are members of my family. I can testify as to their nature; I have lived with them for a while."

There's a long moment of silence, which is broken by… SAINA. "They cannot leave the ship," he announces. "There are range limits to their corporeality. Fred explained this to me."

"But… they can still serve as crew?" Rapatia asks. "Crew that doesn't have to eat or sleep or anything?" Gustav follows up with. "Did you want to talk to a Spirit Mage then, Tasha?" is Aaron's remark.

The half-Vartan nods her head to this. "That is correct. And that is half of why I have gone against our original plan to conceal them, because we feared an unfavorable reaction. But I will not," Tasha lifts her fist, slamming it down against her leg , "NOT sacrifice their comfort in their only home, just to further our goals. I will not," another clang of her fist, "sacrifice, nor hide, nor be ashamed of the people of the JEF. That, is my decision, and the mistake, I have corrected."

After having said her piece, Tasha replies, "They were – they are – the best of their kind, and the elite of the Karnor. They are the best crew." "They do not eat or sleep, but they do feel." "We'll see, Aaron. We'll see how this pans out."

The Lapi's ears are down, from the loud metallic clangs. "So they come with the ship, then?" Cromwell asks. "Are they counted as… crew or assets? Do they need to be paid?"

"What would I spend money on?" Nora asks.

"Books," Strength-of-Stones replies.

"They are not accessories, they are people. While they cannot retain command, they are more proficient than any save the Captain, and the Doctors. Nora is my adopted sister. I will not allow anyone to treat them as objects." "If they desire pay, we'll see to that. If that is not acceptable, I will volunteer my pay. Nora," Tasha glances at her sister, "You'll want hobbies and reading material, won't you? New clothes?"

"My clothes are just projected, Tasha," Nora reminds. "They could be made out of purple noodles if we wanted… "

"There mussst be a way for them to leave the ship," Sssistho notes, and hisses something to Kessa, who starts taking notes on a pad.

Tasha makes a face, looking a little hurt. "But, you can wear whatever you want within projection radius. I just want you to feel comfortable."

Glancing at Kessa, Tasha shakes her head. "We don't know of a way, yet, but they seem to be anchored to the artifacts, which are in turn connected to vital systems. We would need to somehow mobilize all of that."

"Experimenting with something like that would have to be done very carefully," Gustav notes. "When there is time, perhaps the Silent-Ones could find a way to extend the radius with another linked device like MOTHER. If they aren't ghosts, then they shouldn't have to haunt the same place forever."

Scholar-to-Alien's ears go down at the suggestion, while Strength-of-Stones' perk up.

"I knew you'd be sympathetic!" Tasha reaches towards Gustav like she might be about to hug him, but quickly aborts, looking a little sheepish. "Um, ahem. Yes, I agree. They've suffered enough – more than anyone else. Anything we can do for them, we do to honor heroes." Tasha then glances at the Archon, smiles, but her gaze slides past him to Scholar-to-Aliens. "You're not comfortable with this, are you?" She signs.

"It's not that bad," Fred says, then leans over to whisper to Rapatia, "No sex though. Well, not in the physical sense, but… "

Despite trying to look concerned, Tasha sputters at Fred's remark, and has to fix her expression.

"The dead returning to life is not something easily dealt with," Scholar-to-Aliens replies.

"We do not truly understand what they are. We can call them the dead, but their memories extend six-thousand-years, so it is difficult to claim they have been truly gone. Whatever the case, they remember who they are, and they have given more than we may ever know. I honor them; I could not make them suffer more." Tasha then bows her head to the older Silent-One, to show she isn't unsympathetic. "It has taken me time to adjust to them. In truth, I feared what they represented. Even now, I fear this may link me to magic. But, I believe in them, and in the JEF, more than my fears."

"They came out of those crystals you've been carrying since Fenris then?" Aaron asks, holding his hands and fingers up to outline the shape of one of the crystal memory-cards.

Tasha turns from the scholar, and nods. "Partially. The memories seemed to act as a seed, or connection, which the artifacts linked to. Those crystals do not contain all their current memories; the crystal artifacts appear to be drawing them from memories before and after their … Their incapacitation," the woman replies.

"I know a few mages who would really like to study that," Aaron points out.

"They are not lab specimens," Tasha reminds Aaron, brow raising as she gives him a look.

"Did I say they were?" Aaron asks. "I know you don't like it, but if you're going to have a hope of understanding how they work and a shot at overcoming their limits, you're going to need Spirit Mages."

Tasha opens her mouth, looking about to snap an undoubtedly growly remark; when it looks like she might spit it out, she stops herself, leaning back and rubbing her muzzle with a hand. "No, you're right," she admits, sounding a little tired. "It's what I'm saying here, the JEF ne- … needs the mages, as they … n-need us. I will not … I will not let my prejudice get in the way." The young woman scrunches her eyes shut, looking rather pained for the admittance.

"Is this a religious conflict?" Strength-of-Stones asks.

The half-Vartan groans, continuing to rub her muzzle and keeper her eyes closed, as if she had developed some sort of migraine. "It's close enough," she replies, unhappily. "The truth is, we Vartans of Sinai – at least the Vartans I have ever met or heard of – hate magic. There's no reason given – I don't think anyone has even wondered why until now. It just is." One eye twitches open, Tasha gazing over at Rapatia, the only other Vartan present. "It's a sacrifice for unity. I don't like it – in fact the idea of magic makes me a little crazy, and it's worse now that I can't even tell the difference anymore. By choosing to go against this, I run the risk of betraying what it is to be Vartan. Sinaian Vartan. It's a kind of, … I guess treason of the soul. But I won't let another do it; I will live what I ask of others, even if it hurts."

"It's not like you are going to be working magic, Tasha," Aaron reminds. "Vartans back home don't have any problems working with mages," he explains to the others. "Almost every airship has Vartan crewmen and an Air Mage as well."

"That's not exactly true," Tasha corrects, letting her hand fall and opening her eyes. "Not all Vartans will work with mages, and some are very opposed to them. My issue is just more personal. I've been afraid I've been losing myself, and I think I … I clung too much to resisting magic. As if agreeing to it would somehow mean I've lost everything I was. I don't know, I don't presume it makes sense." Her tone, towards then end, is apologetic, and she bows her head to the group. "As I said, unity is vital. It was selfish desires and an unwillingness to cooperate that destroyed the original JEF, and doomed us all to these worlds. That, as much as anything, is why I can't found a JEF that is splintered."

"Necromancers and Mind Mages can be very creepy though," Aaron whispers to those nearest him.

"Well, we haven't dealt with mages in some time," Cromwell notes. "Not since the magic wore off in the Pit. But the JEF, while nominally sanctioned by the PHTO, is still a quasi-independent entity, and will not need our oversight for most of its doings, according to the charter we worked up. So you're free to work with Mages and… and whatever the Ambassador here is… without asking for permission. I think." He looks to Gustav, who looks to Strength-of-Stones, who looks to Scholar-to-Aliens… who just nods.

Speaking to Scholar-to-Aliens has reminded Tasha of one more affair she needs to see to as second-in-command, and self-appointed manager of crew comfort: Fallen-Star. This may be her only chance to speak to one of her people before her time is done, and she means to at least provide that chance – it will be Fallen-Star's choice whether or not to accept it. "I'm sure it'll all be sorted out. I've provided Master Lightfoot here the go-ahead to contact the … the Mages Guild, and after some time, and therapy, we will meet with them and decide what's best for us all. Now," she glances at the others, "if you don't mind, I would like to check on one last thing. I promise: no more blaring lights or dramatic surprises! I just need to see about something while we're all here. Please, get to know Nora and the others, or examine the Titans."

"We may have old PersssoCom technology in our archives," Sssistho tells Nora, who smiles and tries to warm up to the snake. Fried gets Mariel out of the robot, which draws a lot of attention and makes the girl shy away a bit.

Tasha's gaze lingers on her three fellows, and with a smile, she decides they'll be just fine. Thus, she turns and exits the hangar, content that Nora and the others will keep things under control. Her destination is the artifact bay, where she hopes Fallen-Star is active.

PCs Gabriel, Zerachiel and Caravelli are all still hiding in the Artifact Bay, and able to remove the recently added security bar so Tasha can enter. "What's going on out there? Fred and Nora haven't been back," PC Gabriel asks.

In the corner, looking her usual transparent self, is Fallen-Star.

Tasha's muzzle splits in to a grin, the woman stopping just inside. "They're meeting the Council. They know everything, now, at least about Nora, Fred, and Mariel."

"And they weren't spooked?" Caravelli asks. "But we three are still… ah… alive out there. Do you intend to introduce us as well, or would that be even more awkward?"

"They're spooked, but they're adjusting. I just can't accept hiding them; a JEF who sacrifices its members welfare just to get a few more resources will just go the way of the old." Moving again, Tasha begins walking towards Fallen-Star, answering, "I'm still not sure what to do about you three; I think giving the Council time to adjust, then working from there, is best. It's harder to explain two copies of the same person, but I believe, with effort, our new members will accept their crewmembers without so much reservation." As she nears the Silent-One, Tasha raises her arms and Signs, "Fallen-Star?"

"I am here," Fallen-Star signs back, coming forward to stand next to the transplanted medical bed.

Tasha smiles at the dead woman, then glances at the medical bed, before having a seat. "Fallen-Star, the Archon and his aide are here. I know you do not want to see them, but I have found he is a kind man. He has taken in a Silent-One from our world, a woman who was once a slave. He helped me see I was losing myself to impersonate an ideal. We have spoken at length, and I believe he will listen to you. It may be your only chance. His aide is much less forgiving, and I can ask her remain behind," she signs.

"Archons are severe and unyielding," Fallen-Star signs. "Have the People really changed then?"

"I think he is special; his heart is good," Tasha signs back, smiling a little more. "He is young, as we are, and he is the Archon of the Pit of Himaar, a place filled with many species from many nations. He had adopted the style of those Silent-Ones from Sinai. He danced with me, and showed me his face. You know I do not like your people, and that you are an exception. The two of you have made me think that I am wrong to do so."

The ghost-girl seems reticent, and indicates that she's thinking by looking down so she can't see any signs. Finally, she looks back up and signs, "If you trust him, I would meet him in private to give my confession and testimony."

"It will be as you wish. I will get him, and see you have your privacy." Tasha then bows to the girl after standing, as Silent-Ones do to those they respect. "You are a good person. I am sorry I ever doubted you. Please accept this as a demonstration I am willing to trust, too." The red woman smiles, then winks encouragingly, turning to wave the others. "Hokay, you lot head in to the medical – Fallen-Star needs some privacy!"

"I guess we can hide in the tubes," Dr. Zerachiel jokes.

"Haw, haw," Tasha mock-chuckles, reaching over ruffle the man's head. "And don't any of you try and guilt me on not letting you socialize. The Captain is going to have words with me over this as-it-is. You'll get your turn!" After herding the others on out, Tasha pauses at the door to give Fallen-Star a thumbs up before returning to the hangar.

As she rejoins the group, Tasha approaches the Archon and signs, "Archon, may I speak to you privately?"

Strength-of-Stones twists his ears, then looks back to see that Scholar-to-Aliens is part of the group listening to Fred tell some sort of story. "Is it anything secret?" he signs tightly, against his chest.

Tasha positions herself so that her own signs are concealed from the group, as well. "Yes," she signs back, with sever, deeply formal gestures. "I must ask your trust in this. It is something you alone can do, but I risk much in showing compassion here. More than I already have."

"Very well," the Archon signs. He turns and gets Scholar's attention, but all that Tasha catches of his signs is the word toilet. Then he turns back and gestures for Tasha to lead him.

Tasha signs, "Thank you. I will explain as we go." Leading the man on out, the red woman waits until she is half way down the lengthy expanse of the corridor before moving to the Archon's side, so she can sign better. "Nora, Fred, and Mariel are not the only members of the Fleet who have returned. There is one more. She is of your people."

"Please explain," Strength-of-Stones requests. "This mind-recording technology was not in use by Silent-Ones."

"No. I know your people forbade it; there is much they disapproved of," Tasha agrees in sign, slipping and showing her bias with an emphasis on much. Strength-of-Stones has spoken to Tasha more than any other council member, and has seen this slip before when signing about his people. She doesn't seem to be aware of it now, at least. "Her name was First Technician, of the JEF Carrier Orpheus, and she served under Master-of-Artifacts. She will tell you her story, if she wishes. All I can sign is that we found her here, dead, and by her corpse was she brought back to us. It was an experiment; even a mistake. We have learned not to do so again."

The Archon pauses now, just at the entry to the lower deck access ramp. "You have summoned a true ghost?" he signs to her.

Tasha stops before the door when she realizes the Archon has paused, glancing back to read his sign, then turning to face him and answer. "The people of my planet would call her a ghost, or spirit. We have called her that, as well. It may be I resist thinking of these things as magic, because it would suggest that which makes me deeply uncomfortable, but I have also seen enough of the unknown to urge being careful in applying such labels."

"She is not in torment then?" the Archon signs as he finally joins Tasha.

"She suffers; I would call that torment. I have urged her to seek peace with you, as you are of her people and I have placed my trust in you. Please, help her if you can." Turning, Tasha steps towards the door, but stops one last time. "But, if you made me put any name to what she is, I would answer: ghost." The young woman flattens her ears, muzzle pressing, lips thin – a painful admission. "You are ready?"

"No, but that does not matter," the Archon says. "There is no way to prepare for such a thing as this." With that, he removes his mask and nods to Tasha.

Tasha smiles to that. "It is how I felt, too." She then turns, opening the door and stepping in to the shifting glow of the artifact array.

The Archon follows, taking in the crystal artifact, glowing fiberoptic cables and medical bed before focusing on the slightly transparent cheetah girl. He raises his hands and shakily signs, "Hello. I am Strength-of-Stones."

"I was First-Technician," the girl signs, looking nervous. "Now I am Fallen-Star. Will you witness my confession?" The Archon drops to one knee, and signs, "It will be my honor and duty, Fallen-Star of the Expedition."

Tasha stands a little behind the Archon, and signs in subdued gestures, "I will leave now?" She isn't at all sure the girl won't change her mind at the last moment.

"This could take a while; thank you for the privacy, Tasha," Fallen-Star signs when Tasha is looking again.

Tasha forces an encouraging smile in response to the sign before she removes herself. In the hallway now, Tasha gazes along the empty metal corridor, finding it somehow more lonely than it has have ever felt. She settles herself down to sit against the bulkhead and ponder what she has done.

The corridor is pretty dull, and Tasha is tempted to doze off – and has caught herself drooping into sleep a few times before the door to the artifact bay finally opens, and the Archon emerges, mask in place.

Tasha had tried to review her actions, to think about the past, and the future that will be written by it. But, she's only mortal, and she's been running around trying to do so much, it caught up with her. Her airship-born instinct to nap whenever she can remains strong, as does her light sleeping habits. She blinks up when the door slides open, head cocking to the side a moment, before she rises. "Oh, Archon? Were you able to … ?" Tasha isn't quite sure what ask: were you able to help? To accept? To comfort? To manage? Any of them sounds like prying, but she can't help but feel she should inquire some way.

The cheetah holds up his gauntlet-clad hand. "Now is not the time," he signs. "The others will be waiting."

Tasha inclines her head to the Archon's words. "Of course. Please, follow me." As the two return to the hangar bay, it's largely a silent affair, uninterrupted by talk or by gesture until the cadet tugs something from her wing and offers it back to the man – a feather, red and gold.

"For Feather-Tail," she explains, continuing to walk and face forward.

The Archon pauses, and blinks behind his mask. He takes the feather slowly, feeling it between his fingers before stashing it in his robe. "She will be grateful."

"I'm glad," is all Tasha says until they near the other group come sin to view, where upon she says, "Let's talk again some time. But for now, we should split, to avoid suspicion."

"There you are," Rapatia skrawks at nearly a shout, once she spots Tasha and the Archon. "Little wolf-spirit say you gots food here too? Space food?"

Tasha forces her best face as she approaches, arms out expansively. "We got food! Some of it was made in space!" She sweeps her smile across the assembled group, stepping off and away from the Archon. "How'd you all enjoy meeting the rest of our crew? Mariel, would you like to fix our guests something as we head for the bridge?"

"Oh… okay," Mariel says, smiling and wagging her tail a little. "I've never been allowed to cook before!"

"Don't kill the ambassadors," Tasha mock-whispers to Mariel, "it will severely damage their opinion of us!" She then laughs, which echoes through the bay, before patting Mariel's shoulder and glancing to the others. "Now, let's proceed to the head of the ship: the bridge, where we piloted the Bellerophon on its journey from Sheol. Snacks will be served shortly, as well. Colonel, I'd also like to speak with you briefly on the way?"

"Sure," Rapatia says, pushing Cornelius's chair along. The others follow along, including a bemused looking Fred and Nora.

When she doesn't think anyone else is looking, Tasha sneaks a thumbs up to her two crewmates, concealed as it is by a wing. Shortly after the party proceeds down the upper corridor that traverses the length of the ship, towards the bridge. "Colonel," Tasha 'squawks' in her accented Vartan, "I had some time to think, and realized I seriously misjudged your rank. Knowing what I do now, it seems inappropriate for me to have asked someone of your stature to be my personal instructor. I apologize. I'm not used to our people holding high rank, and assumed wrongly."

"Hah!" Rapatia squawks and pats Tasha on the back (but not hard enough to knock her off her feet). "You're like my oldest daughter, Petunia! No worries."

Tasha's forced to duck a little under the strength of the pat, then rubs her neck but grins widely. "I'm glad you're not offended! I'll remove the training from our list, then? The younger half-Vartan rubs a little more, feeling the soreness. "And my neck telsl me you remind me of my mother!"

"No no, training is fine," the big Vartan notes. "I am bored otherwise, unless a monster attacks."

"I'll try and be worth your time, Colonel. You might be happy to know what I learn will also help me while merged with the Melchior." Tasha glances at the bigger, older woman beside her, and grins. "I was just apologizing to the Colonel for a misunderstanding," she says in Standard, to explain the sudden side-conversation.

"We all understand Vartan," Cromwell notes with a grin. "It helps immensely."

"Then you are all very nosy!" Tasha mock-admonishes. "So much for that!" The woman barks a laugh, then turns and declares, loudly, "Maybe Mariel will save me with a distraction of snacks. Ah, there!" The young woman lifts and points a finger down the corridor, "The airlock to bridge access!"

"Why is there such a big airlock?" Gustav asks. Fred looks to Tasha to see if she wants him to answer.

Tasha nods to Fred, "Go ahead, you know this better than I do, Chief Engineer." Tasha then glances to the bat below her, and asks, "So, you all know Vartan? Are there really that many Vartans? The Colonel is the highest-classed Vartan I have ever met, by far."

"The bridge section of the ship can disengage and serve as a life boat in an emergency, with enough power for a controlled descent to a planetary surface… " While some listen closely to Fred, Cromwell informs Tasha, "Elamoore was a port city. It has a large Vartan population."

"Really? I should know that; but it's been some time since my old ship traveled by Elamoore. I might even see some old faces," Tasha tells the elderly Eeee, smiling down at him. "I bet you know the best place in town!"

"Eh?" the bat says, snapping awake. "I got kicked out of the whore house for biting!"

"Haw! You're funny!" Tasha reaches to pat the old man on the shoulder, but pauses fearing he might break. "Time to listen to me talk more, though. Ha!" She shakes her head, then steps forward so that the massive airlock slide open. "Gather inside!"

It takes a moment for everyone to get in through the double airlock. At least the bridge is roomy though. The imaging system is on, so it looks like the bridge is open to the air.

As Tasha steps out on to the bridge deck, she spreads her arms to indicate the expansive room. "This is the brain of the moving ship, a working Expedition-era joint-effort frigate bridge. As you can see, there are three floating positions above the imaging system, which are officer positions, each tasked with a vital group of ship functions. The center one is the Captain's seat; the two others are mainly flight engineering and navigation. On the sides, you'll see science and other supporting stations. Given our limited crew, most were unmanned."

"I notice some non-Terran workstations," Gustav notes, gesturing to a Silent-Ones crystal panel and a Celestial Empire haptic pad.

Tasha smiles at that, nodding. "Good eye!" Walking over, Tasha waves a hand over the crystal panel and begins to sign with one hand, bringing up the display as she talks. "The Bellerophon, like the JEF, was designed as an inter-species endeavor, and featured a crew of Terrans, Celestials, and Silent-Ones. Accommodations throughout the ship also support this. To accommodate further species, including our own, we have also acquired replacements consoles from the Orpheus."

Scholar-to-Aliens' ears perk up. Even Rapatia takes a closer look. "Very impressive," Cromwell notes. Gustav nods solemnly.

"The entire ship was designed for this purpose. It uses not only Terran technology, being, originally, a Terran military frigate, but was also rebuilt to incorporate technology from the aforementioned species," Tasha explains, signing more. The display shows a cross-section of the ship, cut away so to display the various rooms and their species assignment. As she watches the screen, she gets the sudden ears perked look of a Karnor with an idea. "Nora," she inquires, turning to watch the woman, "Do we, by any chance, have stored flight display data from the time before the fleet left Zion?"

"Oh, we must have it in the Orpheus backups," Nora says, excusing herself as she squeezes through to get to one of the stations. "We haven't had a chance to really sort through it all yet," she warns.

"I was just thinking, some of our guests would like to see the fleet – or even their home worlds," Tasha explains with a certain solemn insistence.

"I'm working on it… oh, here, maybe this," Nora says, and then the view of the hangar vanishes to be replaced with a view from space, in orbit around a very green planet. The fleet is clustered together, all facing a huge ring in space, lit up by arcs of glowing plasma. "Zion orbit, before departure, as seen from Orpheus," Nora announces.

"Gods … ," Tasha breathes as she turns to regard the view, finding herself  speechless as she gets her first look at the assembled, original, JEF fleet. She was going to say something, but whatever it was is forgotten as she steps forward to gaze down upon the emerald world, and upon her ancestors – the first Joint Expeditionary Force!

A huge ship moves past, heading to take point. Giant statues line the sides, and vast domes and towers festoon its hull. It looks like a flying cathedral: The Ark.

"It can't be… ?" The younger Vartan walks forward, as if compelled, bracing herself against the chair she had manned during their first and only flight, gazing out across the void, and time. Her eyes scan across the enormous vessel, and even as she blinks at it in disbelief, she knows the truth. " … I-it is… !" Rephidim Temple, the Ark! Something about needing to say something flutters through her mind, but she can't manage to focus, to turn away. The Ark!

"Saturanakh," Kessa points out, indicating another huge, ornate vessel on the opposite side from the Ark.

"Uh … " Is all Tasha can quite manage, unable to muster enough will to look away. To her, it's more than a memory – it's a vision of the organization she has attempted to recreate. This vast, beautiful, impossible fleet and its countless peoples. The comparison to her own minuscule work is stunning – and that is just part of what latches her gazes forward. Seeing the Ark drives home what she had already known: that the legacy of her people and world came from that one, enormous, ship. All other explanations show false, and Tasha's world shifts a little more, forever.

"It doesn't look much like the bronze statue in Freedom Park," Aaron notes, a bit solemnly.

With great effort, and a deep breath, Tasha manages to bring herself back to the here-and-now and the job at hand. She runs her right hand through her hair, left bracing her, as she looks back. "No, it doesn't," she agrees, shaking her head. "What you see before you, on point, is … Is the Temple of Rephidim, known to our ancestral fleet as the Ark. Below is Zion, homeworld of the Silent-Ones. Above, the original fleet in all its glory and before them … the jump gate to the Sinai System."

The image begins to break up, until it freezes in place. "Some corruption in the data," Nora says. "Should be able to reconstruct around it with time though." The hangar returns to the viewing hemisphere.

Tasha glances back just in time to watch the image fade, her gaze lingering on the restored screen for several seconds before she gazes back. "Well," she starts, looking across the assembled persons. "I apologize for being distracted. I had not actually seen the fleet before, and … And, I was not prepared."

"It was certainly impressive," Cromwell notes. Even Cornelius was awake and attentive through it for a change. Everyone mutters agreement that it was a very moving experience.

"I'm glad you all … All … " Tasha glances back at the display, blinking and shaking off the memory for a moment before looking back. "All found that as moving as I did. We should be able to recover more data, with time. I expect we'll have an image of Terra somewhere within the archives. Do you have questions?"

"Will copies of the historical data be made available?" Gustav asks - and Scholar-to-Aliens signs at the same time. Mariel also enters the airlock, and timidly announces, "Uh, hamburgers are ready."

"We'll need to arrange the details at the table, but I don't see any issue at present," Tasha replies. Her gaze shifts to the other young woman and she smiles. "Ahoy, Mariel! Now that we've all had a bit for our minds to chew on, let's not leave our stomachs out. We'll retire to the wardroom to iron out any questions and have a bit of our very own, lab produced, meats. No eating on the bridge, after all!" Tasha slings her arm around Mariel's shoulders as she directs the group out, only to whisper, "I need a drink.

---

GMed by BoingDragon

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Today is 14 days after Candlemass, Year 29 of the Reign of Archelaus the First (6128)