Gabriel is still at his desk when Tasha arrives, going over the 'wish list' of items and material needed by Bellerophon and her crew. He's not alone: Nora, Fred and Dr. Zerachiel, along with the PersoCom projection of Dr. Caravelli are all crowded into the small office area with him to double-check the lists.

Tasha pauses as the door slides open, ears perking as she sees the unexpected crowd. She was going to see about getting the crew a meal, but with Tartarus's galley commandeered by so many diplomatic attaches, she decided it was best to just head home. And, she's back much later than she expected; politics demanded she remain until her meetings were done. Her plan had been to simply relax in the Tartarus crew lounge, but like so many situations in her life these days, necessity demanded her plans change.

"Wow," she says after a second. "Did I miss a party? I would have brought the alcohol, but Colonel Rapatia and I drank it." It strikes her immediately that her comment feels off; not inappropriate to the situation, but out of place in her vocabulary – out of time. She decides it must be a Terran thing, some fragment of her shared memories and the unsafe process she underwent to have them.

"Ah, Tasha," Gabriel says, smiling a bit tiredly. "How did the intelligence gathering go?"

"Oh, you know about that do you?" Tasha walks inside and give the collected people a wave, then sits herself down where-ever she can fit herself. "It wasn't planned, but as it happens, I ended up speaking with at least one major member of every delegation: Colonel Rapatia, Archon Strength-of-Stones, Dr. Drake, and both representatives of the Terra- … Expedition. All in all, I think it went very well."

"Very well in what sense?" Gabriel asks. "That we can work with them, or that they can help us?"

"That Tasha didn't put her hoof in her mouth or punch anyone," Tasha answers, grinning. She leans forward, tucking her hands under her butt. "But there's more: the Colonel informed me that the Confederacy has lost much of its infrastructure and is currently scattered, their contribution minimal at best, if it can be anything. They lost something called a Progenitor – not what you think – and it's all a mess. She did offer to train me personally, and personnel may be a good choice to pursue. I think they'll be most limited of the four, however."

"Maybe, maybe not," Gabriel notes, looking at his datapad. "They may have some of the equipment the doctors want for the cloning setup. What about the Silent-Ones?"

"The Colonel also gave me advice about how to sway the council, and appears to find me genuine, in the Vartan personal sense. She feels this tact may help convince the Confederacy and the Expedition of, at least, our honesty – at least to those who can read Karnors and Vartans." Nodding and taking a breath, Tasha answers, "Archon Strength-of-Stones appears to be very friendly and sympathetic, which surprised me. He doesn't seem to mind other species. Not much was said about resources, but at the very least we can count on him to be open minded. His second, Scholar-to-Aliens, appears to try and direct him and is likely more conservative. So, he's our man there." The young woman glances at Nora, and asks, "What does it mean when a Silent-One shows me his face, anyway?"

"It's a sign of trust," Nora explains. "For a Silent-One, their mask is their public identity – usually only family members see them unmasked. It's like being naked, essentially."

Tasha blinks at that, leaning back, ears lifting. "Oh." She glances at Gabriel for some reason, then reaches back and runs a hand through her hair – something she'd been avoiding most of the day. "And he asked me to listen to music. He's not like any Silent-One I ever met. At the very least, he wants this to work out as much as we do. He knows what will happen if we're forced in to bias by a resource need."

"Hmmm, unusual – I wonder just what the Pit of Himar is like to change a Silent-One like that?" Gabriel ponders. "Those two groups were the ones I expected to be least likely to be cooperative, too. What did you learn about the Imperials?"

"Not as much as the others, since I was simultaneously talking to the Archon. However, I did find that their primary representative was traumatized by what happened at their lifedome, and that the Exile woman, Envoy, should not be mentioned or we may set him off. Diplomatically avoiding that matter would be best. I think that's also an opportunity, too. We have the medical technology to be of great use in dealing with their infection problem. Oh, and both mentioned our ship's survey ability would be of great use scanning this planet and others for useful resources, which is something to keep in mind tomorrow," the young woman explains. She lets her hand fall to her side, then spreads her hands. "We already have some good will there, what with non-PersoCom Dr. Caravelli's work – assuming he doesn't mind that we use it. I never saw him, and I wonder if he will return to us."

"He's probably busy, if there's a hospital or some new treatments and diseases to learn about," PC Caravelli notes. "He isn't one for politics – he's a scientist and a healer first and foremost."

"Maybe I'm being over-protective," Tasha agrees, bobbing her head to the pseudo-man. "I had heard he had taken an interest with … Mage Latania." Despite herself, Tasha is unable to quite avoid the displeasure in her voice upon mentioning the mage, but soldiers on. "The Terrans are interested in various forms of water acquiring plant life to use in the Pit. Help along those lines, and general resource location, would be valuable to them. They also mentioned Tartarus, as well as other nation bases, as potential home for us."

"We have good fabrication facilities here," Gabriel notes. "And lab space, as well as a certain degree of isolation. I don't suppose any of the delegates mentioned technologies or applications that would sour a deal? We can't come right out and ask if they're opposed to us cloning new bodies for the crew, after all."

"The Terrans were distinctly uncomfortable with the knowledge I possess someone else's memories, and warned against bringing that up. The Titans are fine, mmmmmm … " Tasha scrunches up her muzzle, then offers, "I'd avoid mention of cloning, the Sifran array's current operation, memory transfer, and such. Cybernetics, as long as they avoid those topics, also seem to be fine."

"I like this place as well," Tasha adds, smiling.

"I'm worried about them finding out about us," Nora admits. "We can't fake some technology and claim to be holograms. We're tied to the crystal projector – but I'm also certain the Council will want tours of the ship. How do we go about hiding things without making them suspicious?"

Tasha lowers her head at the concern, muzzle creasing in to a frown; her legs sway as she thinks, the clacking hooves echoing in the small room. "Maybe we can just claim to not know. Sifran technology is too advanced for anyone to claim to understand. We can say that we're studying it. Or … " Tasha's muzzle twists, and after a rather unhappy sigh, she offers, " … we can say it's magic."

"We'd have to admit to being ghosts then," Fred notes. "The religious ramifications will be unpredictable."

"And probably unpleasant," Tasha agrees. She shakes her head, and admits, "Honestly, I don't know. I can explain the need for the artifact – Gabriel and I already decided that – but I have no idea how to explain you. If you're not dubbed advanced AI, First One technological projections, or whatever, then you're magic. And no matter what, you're projections of people who are supposed to be dead. Frankly, I'm still struggling with what to think."

"We could just go with them being PersoComs, projected through the crystals," Dr. Zerachiel suggests. "Artificial Intelligence… without the unusual aspects we've found, regarding memory and personality. All they have to do is… act… artificial… "

"I don't particularly like having to ask them to do that; they've been through enough without also being burdened with acting like machines," Tasha points out, expression sinking. "But, what choice do we have?"

"It seems the simplest solution, for now," Nora agrees.

"That still leaves the genuine ghost; Fallen-Star," Gabriel notes. "By her own wishes, we shouldn't tell the Archon about her – but she wants a Terran burial."

"Well, if you agree, Nora, then that's what we'll do. If there's any way I can make the experience less unpleasant – anything we can do – let me know," Tasha says, reaching over to try and pat her sister's arm.

Glancing back, Tasha tells Gabriel, "That shouldn't be too hard to arrange, so long as we're quiet about it. It's not as if the original JEF didn't have people with non-normal desires. We just say we found a recording wishing that, and that we're carrying it out. Since access to Avionics will be restricted, it shouldn't be a problem."

"How much of what happened on Sheol is going to be classified then?" Zerachiel asks. "We've also got the Ambassador to introduce still. I assume you want to wait until we have something stable for ourselves before upping the weirdness factor another notch?"

"That seems wise, but remember … ," Tasha pokes the side of her head with a finger," … I'm just a airship jockey with some memories crammed in my head. This should be out of my league, and I'm still not sure how and why I'm not making a mess of things. So, Gabriel would know better, but my thought is that yes, we should take it slowly. The Ambassador can be delivered later, but mentioned early, showing we were keeping their interests in mind even on Sheol."

"I had intended to mention it, yes," Gabriel says. "It's our reason for not returning to Orpheus to recover more technology or artifacts, after all. We've got the communications system requirements in our wish list as well. It's almost all support material – is there anything you can think of that falls outside of that, Tasha?"

Tasha taps her muzzle, leaning back until she settles again her chair. "Personnel, a base, raw resources for reaction mass, organics for cloning, … How about other vehicles? While we have the truck and the Bellerophon itself, one wasn't built for this environment and the other is expensive to relocate for minor matters. Some kind of aerial transport, maybe. There's also educational needs, such as a testing center for new recruits. We should also consider mentioning a desire and request assistance in contacting other groups, such as the Knights Templar. And maybe approach the … the … " It comes out as a mutter, but at least it comes out: "Mages."

And, perhaps wanting forget she just said that, Tasha also adds, rather quickly, "And artifacts! They may all have artifacts and technological databases we don't."

"Hmmm, I keep forgetting they've been here for six millennium already," Gabriel admits. "The Council has worked with Mages before though – they may have their own contacts. I don't know much about the Knights Templar, but they don't seem to be part of the Pit of Himar Treaty Organization. As for data and artifacts – that will depend on the Council members' relationships with their own governments. We can't assume a cooperative venture with the PHTO gives us any clout with their governments or military."

Tasha's ears cant back, and she nods. "No, I guess we can't. It was explained to me that the members of the PHTO Council are all unusual among their people, too. Eccentrics. They may like us, but that may not mean their governments do."

"They're a civilian organization, after all," Gabriel notes. "If they support us, then we'll be one too. But at least as an exploration, research and rescue organization we'd fall under the STEC's jurisdiction, which could get us Tartarus as a base."

"That would be nice. After meeting with the personnel, I know we'd have the the support of at least two shifts, as well as the leadership. I don't know how it happened, but I seem to have made a lot of friends," Tasha agrees, ending with a laugh. She grins, and adds, "If we want to really make a good impression on moving in, we should bring our entertainment database."

"It would need to be converted to whatever they use now," Fred notes, "but that shouldn't be impossible. Do you want to offer them some of those Khattan progmat toys as gifts, Tash?"

"To the Council? It couldn't hurt. I was actually going to pass those out to us, but I've been so busy I forgot," the young Vartan woman admits.

"Gift-giving is a fairly universal way of sealing contracts and mergers," Nora notes. "We can pre-program them with models of Belle, even."

"Oh. I guess some things just don't change. Hokay, we'll prepare those, then." Tasha reaches up and scratches at her left ear. "It all comes down to tomorrow, doesn't it? Have we considered what to do if this doesn't work out?"

"I haven't given much thought to that, just yet," Gabriel notes.

"Neither have I," Tasha admits. She lets her hand fall, hair spilling across her face as she tilts her head an smiles. "So, we should just succeed and save ourselves the hassle."

There's a bit of chuckling from everyone in the room. "I think we will do fine getting legitimate recognition by the PHTO," Nora says. "It's material support, that may not be so easy. We don't know what resources they even have yet, so may have to plan to obtain them ourselves."

"Then we should dig through our own databases and look for any templates for constructing resource acquiring equipment and vehicles. Self-sufficiency would also free us up from being too dependent; we don't want to be in the center of a big game of tug-of-war. While we're at it, maybe we can look for other vehicles, as well," Tasha suggests.

"The more self-supporting we can be the better, for everyone involved," Gabriel agrees. "Fred, that's your project."

The engineer salutes, and says, "Aye-aye, Captain."

"We know how you like the big things anyway, Fred," Tasha says with a grin. Glancing at Gabriel, Tasha asks, "Anything you need me to do, Captain? I assume my role as second-in-command is temporary?"

"I'll work with PC Caravelli to figure out how much of what we need we can fabricate ourselves," Zerachiel offers.

"Resource management and scientific know-how is beyond me," Tasha admits. "It seems like I'm good at making friends, surviving ancient ruins, and some piloting. I'm not sure what I could do to help locally. Should I plan on departure, then?"

"I don't know what positions we'll all end up in," Gabriel admits. "I have to assume the Council will want one of their own in a high position though. For now… just get some rest, I think. I want to pare down this list a bit, to avoid scaring them."

"That sounds good to me. We'll need our rest for tomorrow, anyway, and I need to hit the fresher," the young woman agrees.

"Oh… and how much did you drink tonight?" Caravelli asks. "Are you going to need something to make sure you aren't hungover in the morning?"

Tasha peers at the PersoCom doctor, brow raised, and then she suddenly laughs! "Oh no," she insists, holding her hands up, "if this much alcohol stopped me, I'd never have gotten anywhere in life." Her hands fall, and when she sees the man is still concerned, she breathes a sigh and smiles again. "But, if it'll make you all feel better, I'll take it."

Caravelli smiles. "Good. I've been feeling a bit useless since nobody hurt themselves during the flight and landing," he says, and gestures for Tasha to lead the way.

Tasha rises, gives Gabriel a big smile, the others a wave, and heads on out. "Remarkably, I didn't injure myself last mission. It must have been really disappointing! If it makes you feel better, though, I'll tell you about how I scared Dr. Zerachiel with my – what did he call it? – thaumaphobia, and that he thinks I need help," Tasha murmurs to her doctor as the two exit.