Tasha is still a little woozy when her elevator platform reaches the main hangar level. Rapatia had to retire, eventually, in order to sober up in time for the meeting tomorrow, which left Tasha with a passed out Silent-One. Once she found someone who could take the cat back to wherever it belonged, she had an urge to take a walk. Even at this late hour, there was an active shift – and lots of activity on the hangar level.

Vehicles buzzed past, hauling supplies from the cargo drop, and there were a lot of Karnors out on station – mostly escorting or watching the various soldiers that came along with the Council. Just off to her side, near the entrance to the vehicle bay with the experimental hybrid Titans she spots one such mixed group: Naga soldiers on one side, watching Silent-Ones on the other, and both bracketed by a few Karnors.

Oh this looks friendly, Tasha thinks as she gazes at the group, arms folded. She shakes her head and lets her arms fall. A little buzzed and feeling bolstered by her talk with a fellow Vartan, she decides: What the hell, and begins forward.

The reason for the multiple groups of soldiers becomes clear soon enough, as Tasha enters the bay and finds Dr. Drasskessa'tek (or Kessa Drake, according to Gordon) and Archon Strength-of-Stones poking around at one of the strange machines.

Tasha's ears perk and eyes widen as she sees the two representatives and a thought crosses her alcohol-lubricated mind: if it gets out she talked to Rapatia, then the other delegates might feel slighted! The last thing she wants to hand Gabriel are accusations of impartiality at the table tomorrow. This is a chance to even things out. Continuing forward, she calls out, "Ahoy there! Mind if I join you?" With so many soldiers around, she decides to hold her hands up in front of her chest, in the classic 'I'm unarmed' position. She even gives what she hopes is a winning smile.

"Pleassse do, Miss Argentine," the Naga scientist says, beckoning the hybrid forward. The cheetah turns around, showing the he's smoking a hand-rolled cigarette of some sort. The swirling smoke is a sharp contrast to the geometric patterns on his face-mask. He does wave, though, in a friendly gesture.

"Thank you, Dr. Drasskessa'tek. But please, Cadet Argentine, if you would." Tasha smiles to show there's no hard feeling, then lowers her hands to Sign in that strange formal hand-language Nora wrote to her mind, "And thank you, Archon."

"You may call me Kessa outside of Council chambersss," the Naga says. Up close, Tasha can even recognize the smell of the cigarette – Himarian trabac weed. Being able to get into the Pit of Himar has its rewards, apparently. The cat even offers Tasha a puff, while signing, "You look much larger up close." He's still taller than Tasha, though.

The young Vartan nods to the Doctor, smiles again, then accepts the cigarette and gazes at it for a moment, nose pulling in scents. "Himarian trabac weed," she decides out loud after a moment, nodding. "I remember the scent from the hold. Its been a while time since I smoked." Smoking, predictably enough, isn't encouraged on ships made of wood with highly explosive gasses keeping them aloft. Were it not for that, Tasha might have ended up adding smoking to her list of constant vices. As it was, she had a puff or two at several ports, after certain activities, and when she was able. She puts the cigarette to her lips, inhales, then exhales slowly to enjoy it, as she was taught. The smoke lifts from her nostrils and muzzle, making her look a bit more demonic than usual. "We Vartans often to," she admits a moment later, "It's a quirk of our design."

"You consider yourself Vartan, and not Karnor?" the Archon signs. He's wearing a speaking glove, but it doesn't seem to be turned on.

Tasha offers the cigarette back, head tilting. "I consider myself both, but in this case it's the Vartan part of me that makes me as large as I am. Also, referring to myself as a Vartan-Karnor hybrid always feels a little clunky. I am what I am, and that's Vartan, and it's Karnor too."

Accepting the cigarette back, Strength-of-Stones takes a puff, and then nods at Tasha's claim. Then he gestures to the strange metal-exoskeleton clad Titan. "I have not seen this kind of Nightmare-Canyon-Beast before," he signs. "I am curious about the trees and plants here."

"Have you ever been to the city of Elamoore, while it wass still on Sinai?" Kessa asks Tasha.

Turning to the machine, Tasha plants her left hand on her hip as she examines it. "I've never seen it either, but that's not saying much given this is my first time seeing any of them!" She chuckles, then glances at Kessa, "A few times, when I was a lot younger. But once it was more or less destroyed, trade in that region evaporated and we never returned. That is, the 'we' of another world and life." Her head shifts to regard the monstrosity again, and she admits, "It's the technology that really fascinates me, I must admit. I keep thinking, 'how could this work?'"

"Apparently it doesss not work," Kessa notes, and gapes her mouth for a moment in a Naga grin. "Strength-of-Stones hasss overseen much of the reconsstruction of Elamoore. Not many on Abaddon understand how wood isss used for building."

"It's a real surprise, isn't it? I puzzled over the use of metal in the same way, when I first saw it used in large-scale construction," Tasha agrees, eyes still scanning the monstrous prototype. She opens her mouth, pauses, purses her lips, then changes her mind and says instead, "It's kind of you to help the people of Elamoore. We thought them lost, and it's good to know they might be recovering. It's good to build something positive, isn't it?"

"Mossst did not make it," Kessa says, a bit morosely. "The kaiju from the canyons spilled out, and slaughtered many. I do not know how many of the original inhabitants chose to remain afterward."

"We should have moved in sooner to protect the area instead of making claims on it," Strength-of-Stones comments.

"That's tragic!" Tasha remarks sadly, head lowering. "I may not have known many of them, but I can still remember a few faces. And now, they're probably gone. Death always seems too close, if you ask me." She shakes her head again, but more rapidly, as if to clear it. Then, she looks up. "I imagine your people and the others were concerned with themselves first and foremost, which is understandable to a degree. Sadly, it's thinking like that, that also destroyed the original JEF. Six thousand years later, we know the results of that." She searches the bug's face, then murmurs, "Maybe utilization of pre-existing nerve pathways … "

After the head shake, the cheetah looks at Tasha, and then reaches out to tap a claw against one of the metal studs coming out of her skull.

Tasha, who's eyes are on the machine and head lost somewhere between bioengineering and thousands of years of death, barks a start when her connection is touched. She immediately looks over, a little bewildered, but as she focuses her expression eases and she just asks, "Are you curious?"

The cheetah smiles, and signs, "I do not think they are jewelry. What did you mean about nerve pathways?"

The Naga is also examining Tasha's head more closely now, rising up an extra foot or so to get in closer.

Tasha smiles back, reaching to rub her neural connection studs as if they were sore, or perhaps that she's self-conscious about them. "They're neural connection studs. That is, interface points for a mind-machine interface system that uses my brain and extended nerve pathways to control and command it. Cybernetics, as I am a cyborg." She glances at the Doctor, then back to the Archon, feeling a little like the next in a line of half-living oddities on display. At least I work, she reminds herself.

"Fassscinating!" Kessa comments. "And decorative. These are what let you pilot your ancient Gryphon?"

"Yes," Tasha confirms, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Among other things." She turns to look back at the biomachine in front of her, and gestures at it. "In a sense, I'm the final part to that device. It learns from me, and I from it, and together we are the Melchior. It's my second body, and I'm its brain. In certain modes, the difference between me and it vanish completely."

"It would seem to be a much deeper connection than an interface helmet, then," the Archon signs, "but far more specialized. Only one person could ever pilot the Titan, unless it is memory-reset for succeeding pilots."

The young woman nods to that. "Only I can pilot the Melchior, or so the thought goes. If his memory could be reset, he would lose the accumulated knowledge of his pilot. It would be a bit of a waste – not that I intend to die any time soon!" Tasha suddenly remembers reading that were she to die in Cerebral Virtualization mode, her mind would persist for minutes or more. A shudder runs through her, but she tries to hide it by staring at the machine in front of her.

The thing looks like a lobster with a pig-like face. Of course, the muscles have all been replaced by hydraulics or cables or whatever the Expedition uses for Titan joints. At least it doesn't appear rusted.

"Nature should not produce such ugly things," Strength-of-Stones signs, following Tasha's gaze to the monstrosity.

"It seems to me, you could replace the brain and save a lot of unnecessary modifications to the interior. Weight too, probably. Although, some backup and enhancement might be useful. With a interface and computer distribution of commands, you could pilot the machine in lieu of its organic br-" Tasha trails off at Strength-of-Stone's 'comment,' frowning a little, then pursing her lips. After a moment, she offers, "Monsters don't ask to be monsters. And perhaps to it, we're the ugly ones. Just look what we did to it." She gestures at the machine, unnecessarily.

"Beauty should be present in all things," the Archon signs. "It merely takes persistence to uncover it."

"I like to believe that, too," Tasha agrees, turning her head to regard the young man. "What do you feel beauty is?"

Kessa rolls her head from side to side – the Naga equivalent of rolling ones eyes, probably. "Geometry, I wager," she hisses.

"Geo-… Mathematical purity is one thing. Balance, symmetry and how well something fits its environment," the cheetah answers.

"For me, it's people and the spirit of a thing. And I may well be enamored of most things electronic and mechanical." The young woman smiles, then waves back the way she came. "The Bellerophon is a work of art, but what it means, it's spirit, and the people aboard it, mean more to me. I believe in what it all represents, and what it could be, both to its people and to others."

"You believe the intent of the artist is the greater signal than the art itself then, would you say?" the cheetah signs.

Tasha tilts her head, pursing her muzzle, then offers, "The artist is art, him or herself. In his or her deeds, we know it. In his or her creations, she shares it – does that make sense?"

"Not entirely, but it is poetic, and that is just as important," the boy replies. Kessa licks her eyes, and says, "I like sssculpture best."

Tasha grins, then chuckles. "Well, Vartans aren't known for their poetry, so I'll take that as a compliment." She glances at Kessa, and nods. "Me, I like machines and people. I can feel the spirit of a machine if I'm around it enough, that sense of what it is. The Captain claims it's because I grew up on a ship, that I'm so close to them in general. I'm very fond of my Titan, for instance, and I would love to see that airship you arrived on up close."

"The Ajax isss formidable. My father fought against it in hiss youth," Kessa notes. "The Silent-Ones' Titan transports are alssso impressive. My people are not known for creating flying battleships."

"I was certainly impressed, and would definitely not want to be on the wrong side of a ship like that. Who built the Ajax, anyway? And what do your people build that's well-known?" Tasha glances at the Silent-One present, and asks, "The transports, would they happen to be pill-shaped with a significant amount of artistic work on the hull?"

"Yes, they are," the Archon replies.

"Tankss, small aircraft, excavation and mining equipment… at least, for public trade purposesss," Kessa notes.

"Then I've seen one on Sinai. I had heard that the Knights Templar acquired a ship to reach Sinai, and the Intimidator may be that ship. It is the most impressive flagship on our world, and amazing just for still functioning, however modified it may be," Tasha informs the Archon. To Kessa, she nods and says, "The latter two we may see a lot of use of, if you feel the JEF is worth supporting. I can't imagine we'll need much in the way of military vehicles, save to protect and defend."

"We have good surveying equipment as well," Kessa adds proudly.

Tasha nods to this. "Also very useful. We possess the means to fabricate some of our own machines but, at least it seems to me, your people already understand this environment and know its needs. And given how generally hostile this world is, that counts for a lot, I think." The young woman smiles, then tells the Archon, "But don't feel like I'm trying to make deals here. That's for tomorrow." Then to both, she admits, "I'm just trying to get to know the parties involved, given I'm not from this world. It's good to take some time to know people."

"Searching out new resources is an important activity," Strength-of-Stones notes. "Your ship is a planetary survey vessel. You should emphasize that."

"That's true. I've had my mind on exploration in terms of discovery of alien, and not-so-alien, ruins, locating new flora and fauna, etc., but I hadn't considered the exploitable resources beyond the technologies and information discovered and distributed. History, discovery and technology are all draws, but I imagine raw resources are just as important. I'll pass that on to the Captain," Tasha agrees.

"Raw resssources will get you funding," Kessa agrees. "Archaeology will get you recruitsss."

"I have to admit, we need both," Tasha explains, chuckling as she does. "You both make excellent points, definitely. I'll admit, I'm rather new at all this. Luckily, the Captain is not."

"He isss a military man though, and may not be used to dealing with civilian authoritiess," Kessa notes. "The Council will assk for some ssort of oversight."

"We're anticipating that, in fact. And don't be hard on the Captain; he may be a military man, but he sacrificed a great deal to explore the stars. Many of the members of the Terran – and other – forces were military, but they came for the promise of seeing what existed beyond the distortion." Tasha smiles, then nods. "I'll be interested in meeting who the Council chooses, if you do decide to help us. In fact, I'm looking forward to meeting all the new recruits and envoys."

"That may take time, assssuming the Council agrees to back your group," Kessa warns. "It may come down to finances, and no amount of lofty ideals or fancy machinery can overcome inadequate funding."

Tasha grimaces at that, but nods. "It's … It's not something I'm unaware of, certainly." She turns, gazing off, her ears perking and frown melting in to a look of resolve as she says, "But, I have faith in our mission. Even if we're not supported by the Council, we will find a way."

"The Council has little choice but to ally in some way," Strength-of-Stones signs.

Tasha glances over to watch the Archon Sign, then asks as she turns her head to look at him fully, "Is that so? I'm a little surprised you'd Sign that, but it does seem to be true." She holds her hands out, spreading them as she goes on. "Without mutual support, we may be faced with an alliance with one or two of the Council members, or some other party, which would lead to problems of balance and pressure on us to increase our bias further. I don't think anyone wants that."

"Plus, we need new resources to support and secure the Pit for the future," the Archon signs. "It is best if we have our own group for finding them."

"Yes, it really is best if we work together. Best for each of us, best for peace, and best for the spirit and mission of the JEF. A JEF composed of mostly one group would be the JEF in name, only." Tasha lets her hands fall, then glances between the two representatives. "That said, do you have any further questions of me? I don't mean to sound in a rush, and I'm not, but I do mean to locate a Terran ambassador in order to avoid any thoughts of favoritism."

"Do you like music?" the Archon signs.

Tasha's eyes widen a little at that, ears perking. "I do, but I'm not a musician myself. I've been meaning to listen to the music archive in our database, but there's been little time."

"Scholar-to-Aliens does not care for my taste in music," the cheetah signs, frowning slightly. "And the Imperials have issue with loud percussion. The golden rabbit listened with me but complained of the volume. After the meeting, would you like to join me in listening to music?"

"I … " It strikes Tasha, that this is the first time a modern Silent-One has ever wanted her presence for anything. Further, he's also nice to her. She assumes he must deal with a lot of species, and perhaps has grown to be more inclusive, Whatever the case may be, when he shock passes her mind jumps at the chance. She isn't about to snub her first real chance at getting along with the Silent-Ones! "O-of course," she finishes, albeit with more of a stammer than she'd have liked. "I'm very fond of loud sounds in general." She smiles, trying to cover her earlier hesitance.

The Archon smiles, and even lifts up his mask – revealing a face that probably isn't any older than Tasha. He slides it back down, and bows, before signing, "It is good to find someone who appreciates the effects of loudness. I should retire now, before Scholar sends someone to fetch me."

Tasha's eyes widen when the Archon lifts his masks; she goes to ask if she should be looking upon his face, but finds she can't spit a word of it out when he moves faster than she can think. This leaves her looking a little stunned, but she returns the bow in short order and offers, "I, … Well, I appreciate the Archon's offer and look forward to the music."

The Silent-One bows again, and walks towards the main doors into the central corridor, where his honor guard is waiting patiently for him. "He likesss you," Kessa says. "I expect he will want to know all about your life on Sssinai."

"I didn't see that coming at all," Tasha admits, sounding as stunned as she looks, and forgetting for a moment she's in the presence of one of the people who will decide her fate. "I hope I didn't offend him? I just didn't expect … I don't really know what … " She begins running a hand through her hair, but quickly drops it as she shakes her head, clearing it. She takes a deep breath, then, more calmly, says, "I wasn't expecting a pleasant reception from the Silent-Ones, that's all. I don't mind telling him whatever he'd like to know, but I'm still a bit stunned."

"He is young and… " Kessa says, and pauses. "You must realizzze; the members of the Council are somewhat outcasst from their own governments. They are troublemakers, or political radicals. But they are also the most adaptable, and the Pit and Gateway and now magic have changed everything. So now those liabilities at home are virtues abroad."

"That … That sounds familiar, actually," the young woman has to admit. It sounds more than a little like the story of her own crew, and herself as well. "Well," she takes another breath, pausing her words until she exhales, " … I guess I like him, too." Tasha stares after the young man as he and he entourage departs, then she turns to the Naga delegate and says, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to neglect you. I'd actually heard very positive things about you and was going to seek you out when I could. I was just a bit taken aback, there, and I apologize. Do you have any questions for me, Doctor? Dr. Kitty recommends you highly, I should note."

"I am a notable eccentric," Kessa admits. "That is ssometimes mistaken for charm, I understand." Again she gapes in a Naga grin. "As for questions… how are you holding up? This must be overwhelming to someone from Sinai."

Tasha blinks at the admittance, but laughs and smiles when the other woman grins. She's always found Naga humor to be delayed, but often more powerful for it. The question sobers her a little, smile dulling as she folds her hands in the small of her back. "I won't lie, it was disorienting at first; hard to accept and harder to realize that I knew things that prevented me from living the life I had. I can no longer return to my old life, I could never sit back and forget what I've seen, nor the duties impressed or lingering. In a manner of speaking, the day I connected to the Fenris's memory retention machine is the day I became a different person. The journey has been as much an inner one as an outer, but I've also had good friends and strong role models to steady me when I faltered. These days, I feel somewhere between who I was and the Captain: from another time, yet still part of this one. I've also found that being back among people has helped steady me."

Kessa bobs her head, while flicking her tongue. "There wasss one other thing," she notes. "Before you left for Sheol, you visited an isolated site in the desert. I have my sssuspicions about why, but is it anything you can tell me about?"

Tasha pauses. Does she mean Orpheus? We didn't visit any other location … At least, I didn't. Her head tilts, and she asks, "Oh, you know that we were on Sheol, then? But you you don't know more?"

"Well, I have contactsss in the Museum in New Zion," Kessa explains. "I know that you, Captain Akkers and some others went with Professor James out into the desert for several hours. If I know this, it isss possible others do as well. You must be prepared if asked. Councilman Sssistho-Sephra was visiting the Imperial Life Dome when the Seed was awakened. It wasss very traumatic for him. Ssso it would be besst if a certain persson was not mentioned, if indeed you were visiting her."

"I don't make a point of betraying those who aid me, nor of making needless enemies, Kessa. Whatever we did there, I assure you it was entirely professional and nothing more. We do not take sides, and it is not our place to judge," Tasha offers, nodding once she understands. It feels like so long, she had forgotten about meeting the woman called Envoy and her political problems. "I hope that is sufficient?"

"For me, yesss," the Naga says, and bobs her head. "Also know that the councilman has a newfound fear of vegetables. Especially the sssort with tendrils or bean pods."

"That would scare anyone," Tasha agrees with a smile. "Now, if there's nothing else, I should go locate one of the Terran delegates before they accuse me of unfair bias in sleep deprivation."

"Very well," Kessa says, and dips her head. "It was very educational meeting with you informally."

"Likewise, Kessa." Tasha bows as well. "I hope we have a chance to work together in the future, and to continue to see what we can learn."

As luck would have it, Tasha ran into Ace as he was coming on duty, and he told her that the Terran councilmen were meeting with Lt. Vesuvius in one of the upper level briefing rooms. An elevator ride and a few twists and turns brings Tasha to the right door, which is slightly ajar – enough to let her overhear the men inside.

"There's no official name for these yet, but we call them pipe-grass for now," Gordon explains, over the hum of a small fan. "They're good and bringing water up, and grow fast, but we don't know the actual rate at which they grow or move water, or even how deep their roots go."

"Hmmm. I was hoping for something less metallic," another voice comments, definitely human and male. "I like being able to control the area of growth by controlling the iron level in the ground, which is ideal since the Pit doesn't have any iron in the soil. But I'm just not sure it'll be worth it, if we have to decontaminate the water afterward."

Tasha pauses at the door, listening in to make sure approaching and knocking won't be considered an intrusion. It's a sense of propriety she just didn't have a year ago, or even a month ago, but the fast-paced race towards the Joint Expeditionary Force's second formation seems to have also put her adaption in to high gear – with Nora's forceful memories being no small contributor. After deciding knocking should be fine, and that maybe they'd like the opinion of someone from Sinai, even if she knows little of plants, she steps towards the door and knocks.

The door is opened by the big Karnor, Gustav Altieri – although up close he's pretty thin looking, and has a pair of glasses. "Hello? Oh, Cadet Argentine," he says, smiling. "Were you looking for Lt. Vesuvius?"

"Oh, no," Tasha replies, smiling back. "I was actually looking for the Terran – excuse me, Expedition – delegates, and was told you were here. I apologize for interrupting, but did want to offer an impromptu meeting if either of you would like to talk a bit. I've already spoken to a few of the others by happenstance, and wanted to make sure my time was allotted fairly."

"Oh… well, you're welcome to come in then," the wolf notes, and holds the door open. The room beyond is dark, except for a screen that's being brightly lit by a slide projector. It displays a forest of bamboo-like plants growing from red soil. Gordon holds out a chair for Tasha at the conference table, hopefully on a side that won't cause her wings to get in the way of anything, but also right next to Mr. Cromwell of the Expedition.

Tasha follows the man inside, and offers, "Thank you, Mr. Altieri," when he pulls the seat for her. She sits down, sweeping her smile to the man beside her with a nod, "Mr. Cromwell," and again to the base commander, "Lt. Vesuvius." She folds her hands in her lap, finishing with, "It's a pleasure to see you all again; I hope I'm not interrupting too much?"

"Just vacation slides from the canyon floor, my dear," Lyle Cromwell says with a chuckle. From the side, and with the light from the screen illuminating him, he almost matches Gabriel's colors. "Looking for… well… anything that might be useful in the Pit."

The young woman eyes the slide, muzzle pursing as she does. A second or two later she admits, "You're trying to draw ground water from the soil, then? I wish I could offer some insight, but I'm afraid botany and xenobotany aren't my fields. Dr. Zerachiel may have better input, as may ancient records. There may have been a Terraforming protocol for plant life on arid planets, for all I'm aware."

"Groundwater is very deep here on Abaddon," Gustav notes. "The Pit has a slight advantage in that it's a pit, and already a few hundred feet lower than the surface. But we always have to be aware of how much water is available for agriculture."

"What about extraction technology?" Tasha asks, glancing Gustav's way. "Drilling and extracting water via pumps and filters? Or is there a problem with the ground, or SPF-caused breakdown?"

"Drilling is expensive," Gustav notes. "If we can find a way to do it using native organisms or structures, it will be much easier to deal with," Cromwell adds.

"That makes sense," Tasha agrees. She glances at the strange plant again, then shakes her head. "So much to learn," she remarks to no one in particular.

"Moving on," Gordon says, and clicks to the next slide, which shows some sort of… well, it looks like a blood-stained mattress. "We aren't sure yet if this is an animal or some sort of fungus," the Lt. notes. "It does hold a lot of water though, and is less armored or iron-heavy than the other megafauna. It's internal flesh is blue or green, and… edible, if prepared properly and carefully. Its skin produces a corrosive substance, but it is luckily slow acting."

Tasha's brows rise at the creature, not at all sure what to make of it, and feeling she certainly wouldn't eat it! Or sleep on it, for that matter. Not having anything to contribute, folds her arms and leans back. That is one weird … Whatever, she decides.

The slides continue, showing various plants and creatures found in the canyon, with lots of ambiguity about how useful they might be. "We never really had the resources for on-site study of these things; just what we could bring back to the base," he concludes.

"Perhaps your Bellerophon can clear up the mysteries, eh Cadet?" Cromwell asks with a grin. "If it can find underground rivers, though, it will be invaluable."

"I was thinking exactly the same thing, Sir." For a brief second, Tasha wonders where the 'sir' came from – and the strange feeling of difference towards this high-ranking human. In the brief pause it causes, she decides it must be one of Nora's feelings: old Karnor difference to humans of authority. "Um, but yes, definitely. The Bellerophon was remodeled as a survey vessel, and as part of an exploratory fleet. We have on-ship laboratories and powerful sensory arrays that may be able to penetrate the ground. In fact, I can ask now if you like."

"No rush, my dear," the human says, raising a hand. "I'm sure it will all be in the presentation tomorrow. I'm more interested in what resources you will need, in terms of fuel, facilities and supplies."

"Gabr-" Tasha pauses again; the older human reminds her of Gabriel too. Who knew humans – whom she had considered rather forgettable before – could evoke so many emotions? "Excuse me, the Captain is compiling a list as we speak. Reaction mass is compulsory, of course. We're not getting anywhere without it. As for facilities, it would be very useful to have access to, or to have, a ground base like Tartarus at our disposal."

"Tartarus belongs to the Expedition military of course," Cromwell notes. "But I think we might be able to use it. The others may have their own locations to offer."

"Of course. It's just an example, and I've found the crew," she smiles toward Lt. Vesuvius briefly, "to be very friendly and accommodating, which is vital to an organization like ours. What's most important, however, is that it have the resources and neutrality necessary for our mission." Tasha purses her muzzle again, thinking briefly before she adds, "There's also the matter of personnel. While I have high opinions of all my crew, I'm afraid three people and a host of AIs simply won't cut it."

"Oh, I'm sure every member group of the PHTO will have plenty of potential recruits, support personnel and spies to offer," Gustav comments, then gives a sort of wheezing laugh.

Tasha laughs right along with the human man. "Oh, I'm sure," she agrees, nodding. After shaking her head at it all, she says, "Since resources will be handled tomorrow, do you have any other questions for me? Don't feel like you're taking advantage; everyone else has asked a few already. Of course, the depth I can go in to is limited, but I can answer some things."

"Do you plan on extending membership in your group to the remnants of the Knights Templar, or to the Kampfengruppe or their Offworld Legion?" Cromwell asks. "For that matter, what about to your fellows from Sinai: the mages and traders?"

"We don't have an official stance on membership of non-PHTO nations and groups quite yet, but I can offer speculation based on our organization goals: Provided they show an earnest desire to follow the JEF member, and – likely even more important here – work with JEF personnel regardless of personal or national feelings, I can't see why we would reject them. Individuals will be welcome to approach us for review and testing; groups, if desiring part of our results and findings, will probably need to offer something back. And of course, we'd notify and discuss the inclusion of any group with the other patron groups."

Tasha takes a moment to catch her breath, then holds her arms out in a reserved, expansive gesture as she continues. "As for the groups you mentioned, given the Knights Templar are – or were, according to records – a kind of peace keeping version of the JEF itself, I can see their interest. The problem would be their duties and vows conflicting with ours, but we'd cross that bridge when we come to it. The Kampfengruppe is rather a mystery, but I do have the feeling they will approach us sooner or later."

"Ah, so you are willing to face the unknown so long as you do so on your terms," Cromwell says, still smiling. It's the sort of expression that makes Tasha want to sit in his lap and ask him for presents, for some reason. "Good. If you'd been willing to deny any group participation out of hand or political bias, I'd have doubted your neutrality."

Tasha blinks at the human for a moment, then rubs her eyes, looking up after and smiling. "Ah, well, I won't say we, as individuals, don't have our preferences and biases. We are only human," she blinks again, quickly presses on. " … After all. We would be more open, but we also understand our technology could unbalance the peace, and we are not willing to endanger this world or any other recklessly."

"A good sentiment," the man says, and actually pats Tasha on the knee. "Let us pray that it survives, eh?"

Tasha blinks once again at the pat, but chuckles a moment later. "We can only hope. At least we have the mistakes of the past to guide us this time around." She then tilts her head, watching the human for a moment, before offering, "Please forgive me if this sounds strange, but recollections are quite intense around you, Sir. If I've been reacting a little oddly, that's why."

"Oh, who do I remind you of?" the man asks. Gordon turns on the lights then, since the slides are done with. And yes, Cromwell's eyes do remind Tasha of Gabriel's. If he were human, he might have little crinkles along the edges and a bushy beard too.

"You do resemble our Captain, if he were human. But beyond that, what I'm feeling are likely ancient Terran memories of Lt. Commander Nora Argentine. The Karnor Elite had a certain difference towards their creators, the humans." Here, Tasha glances at the two Karnors in the room, curious if they have feelings on the subject. "In addition, I suspect Lt. Argentine had a father or grandfather much like you. I get these feelings every so often; it's a side-effect of the emergency data transfer."

"Fascinating," the man says, studying Tasha's face a bit more closely. "Being able to transfer memories… it sounds a bit dangerous, really. I imagine I'd go a bit bonkers if I had someone else's memories bubbling up and thinking they were my own. Best not to mention having that sort of technology in your report, if you want my opinion."

"It can be a bit disconcerting, but I've learned to live with it as a necessity and part of the person I am now. You can definitely drive yourself featherless thinking about it, but I've had months to adapt." Tasha smiles, then bobs her head. "Will do. It's really an emergency procedure, anyway. Do you feel there's any other technology we should not present? Titans?"

"Oh, Titans aren't anything dangerous," Cromwell claims, waving a hand. "Useful for construction work though, and dealing with the canyon biospheres. But they don't offer any particular advantage over conventional vehicles for the most part."

Tasha inclines her head to that. "Yes, I recall they were built as an alternate means of conflict resolution. Duelist-machines, as it were, to avoid employing the devastating weapons of their age. And speaking of weapons of their age, we possess very few, if that's a concern. Mostly small arms for personal defense, and the Bellerophon's linear cannons." Resting her hands again, Tasha asks, "Well, barring any further questions, I'd best be going so you can finish your meeting in peace and get some dinner?"

"I look forward to tomorrow's presentation," Cromwell says, standing up and actually giving a short bow to Tasha. "I'm not sure what else Gordon has to show us, but hopefully it will be appetizing."

Tasha rises as well, returning the bow. "I plan to head to the galley after this, if you want me to inform the cooks you'd like something. Either way, it was a pleasure to get a chance to meet you personally, Sir." She turns and bows to the Karnors as well; first Gustav then the base commander. "And you as well, Mr. Altieri. Always a pleasure, Lt. Vesuvius!"

"I wonder if they have any of that mattress-meat… " Cromwell mutters, while Gordon quickly shakes Tasha's hand. "Try to get some rest too - tomorrow is likely to be tiring," he advises her.

The hand is shaken, Tasha smiling. "I will, thank you, Sir. It's off to the galley with me, then back to the ship for some rest. Again, thank you for having me. Good day, sirs." After stepping back and giving another bow, the young woman proceeds on out and makes towards the galley.