"Vartans and Titanians created by the same ancient race," Gabriel says, shaking his head. "I didn't know the Khattas bought in to the whole 'Progenitors' notion."

"I suppose it isn't impossible, given that we are theoretically created by the same race too, the Terrans," Layth points out.

"What?!" Tasha's leans forward suddenly, staring at the ProgMat created Synthy, eyes wide in a look of shock and revelation. "I- … I thought there was somethin' familiar about 'em but I just thought we were both … loud people!" She blinks, taking the information in and running a hand through her hair. "That would mean we've been fighting each other for generations … Because we didn't know?"

"No, Tasha, it doesn't matter at all," Gabriel claims. "The Khattas may have told the Vartans something once, but it was thousands of years ago, and the Progenitors would have been… what… a hundred-thousand years back? The truth is that it wouldn't affect the Titanians or Vartans one bit in the real world."

The young woman lays her ears back, turning to Gabriel. "I don't know, Gabriel. We were clans once, and we still have close family bonds. Knowing another species was like a brother or sister might make a difference … " She breathes a sigh, lowering herself back in to her chair as she looks down at her hands. "Or maybe that's just me. I don't know. It just doesn't seem right." Her voice is unsettled, quiet. "I was just starting to like the Khattans, too."

"And at this point it doesn't affect our current situation, nor the odd green section we need to investigate soon," Layth suggests. "Current matters are more pressing that a matter of history. It can be sorted out once we know we are secure."

The Karnor nods his head. "Download the relevant information to a data chip please," he tells the robot. "We can review it later. Right now I want to get the hatch open and make sure we have access to the top of the ship. Then we can deal with the Imperial section."

Tasha nods to Layth's words; Slowly at first, but with increasing rapidity. "Yes, you're right Layth. I'll think about this some other time." She takes a deep breath, then turns to stare at the hatch. "I'll just … just go open this." And then she's up and moving.

"If we die here, the information would hardly be useful to anyone," Layth tries to add helpfully. "It waited this long, it can wait a few more days. It … isn't going to change. And be careful with the hatch, if there's a windstorm outside, it could have stirred up the dust into something unpleasant."

The hatch is heavy and thick, and opens inwards. It's got a thick porthole though, showing some sky and lot of… dirt, or something very similar to dirt. The instructions for opening it are pretty simple though, with lots of diagrams for which levers to pull in which order.

"Hrrrk." The red woman puts all that pent up anxiety and Vartan strength to work twisting around latches rather than memories – or necks. "I … nnngh … I know, I'll be … careful … ," she breathes as she works. After working through the series of locks, she gives the now unlocked porthole a careful, body kept back, shove!

"Ah, I think you need to pull, not push," Layth offers and holds up his right index finger. "If I am reading the Khattan right, anyway… "

"Oh right – sorry, I only read Vartan." Tasha shifts her grip, then yanks the hatch back before hopping back.

The door swings down, showing that it's angled inwards like a cork to ensure it couldn't open at all if there was more air pressure on the inside. It also releases a rain of pea-sized brown beads that were covering the surface.

"I'm useful for something," Layth quips, "I can read and write Khattan." He now heads over since Tasha helpfully took the brunt of the dirt for him when the hatch opens.

"Anything up there besides… uh… beads?" Gabriel asks.

Tasha blinks at the bead-shower, beginning to dust off any leftovers. "This is some strange dirt. Usually the beads in my tail are more colorful." She shakes her tail, looking back at it with disdain. "I really need to buy something shiny for it, it's been too long."

"It might be, well, droppings," Layth points out to Tasha. While she's busy wiping the stuff off, Layth tries to climb up and look out the now opened hatch.

"Wouldn't be the first time," the woman sighs. "I did drove three extremely large reptiles, these things happen." She does seem to speed up her dirt-clearing, though. One done, she dusts her hands off and heads to follow Layth.

The upper hull is slightly curved here, but a few dozen feet away it flattens out – and there's a garden on the march. Hundreds of giant, translucent flowers track the sun, and march along on crab-like legs as they jostle for the best position. Their petals reflect the rays onto spheres of green-filled glass at the end of stalks rising from their centers.

"Oookay," Layth says and even scratches his cheek. "I have never seen this before. There are flowers up here and they're walking on little crab-feet. It is … I can't say quite what it is, but it is a lot of it. Spring Meadow would love this … right up to the point they kidnapped her and used her for fertilizer."

"These beads could be seeds… or dung, I suppose. Eli can figure it out," Akkers notes, pocketing some of the pellets. "Is it clear around the hatch though?"

"Walking what?" Tasha pops her head out of the opening, looking around curiously until she spots … walking flowers! "Oi, look at that! And they're shiny too – ahoy flowers!" She gives them a wave, then peers looks down as Gabriel calls up. "It's clear, I'll move my butt!" And so, she climbs out at takes a few steps towards the flowers. "Ooo, very shiny."

The motion prompts a response, and the flowers at the edge turn their petals to shine light back (more or less) towards the hatch.

"The surface is curved a bit, but it is reasonably clear. About a twenty foot or so area around the hatch is fine. Past that the area flowers are … stalking," Layth tries to explain. "And Tasha, they might be violent! Don't … oh go ahead, get eaten!"

"What do you mean, they might be violets?" Gabriel asks.

"Vi-o-lent," Lath clarifies. "Aggressive! Bodies are, after all, walking water and plant food… "

"Violent flowers?" The woman gives Layth a look, and laughs. "They don't even have mouths! Come on, they're pretty!" She blinks when a focused beam of light catches her eye, turning back to watch the plants. "I think we've been spotted. But remember, the crabs are afraid of water."

The flowers seem to pick up speed as they move away, although with all the flashing and resulting glare it's hard to actually pick individuals out. But they are definitely not hanging around.

"Oooor, they're cowards. That is better for us," Layth says as he finally completely exits the hatch and sits on the rim. "So, the hull up here is clear, Captain."

Tasha has to hold up her hand against the glare, but otherwise seems fixated on watching the sea of glittering, fleeing mobile flowers move. "Awww," she whines as they depart.

"Good, we can put the relay up there," Akkers notes. "Once we take care of a minor detail or two. Let's close it up and get back to Belle. I want to be properly prepared before checking the 'green zone' this time."

"I think you're right, Captain. At least, from what little Fred has shown me it looks like there are bolt-points out here to attach stuff," Layth confirms after he looks around a bit. The buck then shrugs and just hops down the hatch and lands on his feet.

With the flowers rapidly departing, Tasha gives them a final wave and turns back to the others. "Back home, then. I think we should bring a camera, to get some pictures of all this," she waves at the rapidly shrinking flora, "at least."

"There should be power and data ports, but we'll need to kludge something I think," Gabriel notes. "Hmmm, good idea on the camera… actually… hmm. Will have to talk to Fred… "

Artemis stands waiting, holding a data crystal in one hand.

"And something to scare the flowers off from nesting on the machine, right? They might damage it if they root," Layth points out.

Tasha follows after, but has to climb down since her wings would just catch on the sides.

"I can't imagine they'd set roots on the hull," Gabriel notes. "They're probably some solar-powered variant of the crabs. We can put something up to scare them off I'm sure."

"Well, if they're afraid of water, maybe one of those peeing statues we saw in the parks in Terratown," Layth says with an amused grin. His eyes flick to the crystal on Artemis' hand and the buck then waves for the Vartan to go grab it.

Nodding, Tasha reaches over and takes the crystal stick from the Synth. She holds it up to the light, saying, "Just like before," she murmurs. Pocketing it, she nods to the others that she's ready to head out.

On the way out, Gabriel tells Artemis, "In addition to the other tasks you're going to be doing, I'd like a full inventory of remaining equipment that is compatible with Bellerophon, especially any Vartan command chairs."

The robot nods, and says, "Yes Captain."

"Chairs!" The Vartan explains, eyes widening as she smacks her forehead. "I knew I forgot something!" She glances back, stopping near the elevator, adding, "And a Vartan bed, if you can!"

"And if there is a way to transfer your control to the ship," Layth says as he follows Gabriel out. "They need a doe to keep them in line."

A slight detour leads them to some sort of spa, full of fanciful fountains, baths and showers. It's vaguely Olympian in form, but the details and designs are different. Here they find Blammo trying to prize a golden Vartan head from the wall, where it presumably once spat out water.

"Trying to get a head?" Layth calls out to Blammo.

"No!" the Titanian claims, trying to look innocent – despite having one hand still on the showerhead.

Tasha follows Layth inside, then pauses to eye the guilty looking Titanian. "Can't get enough Vartan, is it? Miss me already?"

"Not enough Vartan?" Layth asks Tasha, "Do you need to have a private talk with Gabriel, then… ? You and Blammo… ?"

The big wolf wags his tail, and finally lets go of the head. "Thought Berfa would like, 's all," Blammo claims, looking… bashful?

Tasha turns and eyes Layth, then takes several deliberate steps towards him until she's eyeing him with all five foot, six inches of fury. "I. Did. Not. Bed. Blammo," she says, very clearly, and very loudly. Then she swats Layth, and keeps doing it!

"Ow, ow, ow," goes Layth in addition to the actual laughing from the buck, "Right, so it was some of the more violent pastimes. I see!"

"Hopeless!" Exclaims Tasha, throwing her hands up in the air – but at least she's grinning. Turning to Blammo, Tasha barks, "Blammo! The Khattan computers know you're here and are on to that patch-trick you're using. You'd better come with us, or at least be extra careful."

"Or there might be a Blammo head on the wall spitting water soon," Layth adds helpfully. "Then in a few years someone can come here again and try to steal your head… "

"He just said he wants the gold to impress a girl," Gabriel notes. "Let's not confuse him any more."

"Bed?" Blammo asks, looking down at Tasha. Way down.

"Blammo. Dangerous here. Come with us. Now," Layth super-simplifies.

"You know," murmurs Tasha, who looks back with a coy tilt of her head, "I appreciate gold, Gabriel." Her ears the flicker like they shorted out when Blammo asks his question. "Umm."

"Hokay!" Blammo says agreeably… to something.

After dropping Blammo off at his campsite (and overlooking his sack full of gold faucet handles) the others return to the Bellerophon, where Gabriel turns around and stops Layth and Tasha just outside the Medical Bay. "Okay, you two report to… uh… whoever is running the Med Bay right now," he says. "I need you both fitted with life collars while I get Fred."

"Moment, captain," Layth says and raises his hand so he can ask, "A life collar? What is that?"

Tasha nods up until life collars are mentioned, causing the woman to blink. "Life collars?" She turns to Layth and explains, "Life collars are the devices we had around our necks when we were pulled out of the tubes on the Fenris, they're a way for the ship to feed us food and other chemicals while we're connected to the mind-computer interface and stasis tubes. The question is," and here she turns back to Gabriel, "Why's that, Captain?"

"You were pulled out. I was never in one," Layth notes after nodding from the explanation. "I was just drugged asleep and left on the floor. But, as you like. I am sure there is a reason for this?"

"Well, you know what I mean. My memory's a little hazy about who came out of what and how, given I had just had my brain modified by Nora," Tasha asides to Layth. "You'd have gone in eventually if she hadn't taught me how to escape."

"I'm not taking you into an area that shows signs of power and who knows what else being activated without you knowing how the power and data systems work, so you know what to look for and what to avoid," Gabriel notes. "And we don't have time to train you using normal means. So… you're going to get 'a little Fred in you' via the PersoCom system. That and some Virtual Reality training to activate it and you'll be less in the dark about how Orpheus and Belle work."

Layth nods once at that. "A reasonable idea," the buck agrees, "It would be a … well, a relief to not feel completely useless most of the time. If it is anything like the Silent-One system, I don't expect any significant pain from the experience. Shall we go, Tasha?"

The woman's ears perk at the explanation, and she nods approvingly. "That sounds like a great idea, Captain. I know Layth and I have been feeling next to useless, what with not understanding any of this." To Layth, she offers, "I'll help prepare you for the virtual reality and the rest of the process, it's a little different." She smiles and nods. "Let's go learn something, Layth."

Dr. Caravelli's PC is in the Med Bay at the moment, doing something with the medical robot. "Oh, hello!" he says when he notices Layth and Tasha. "How did everything go with your neural probes, Tasha?" he asks.

Tasha gives the doctor a wide smile, waving to him. "Just fine as far as we know, and everything else you helped me with has gone well, too. Thank you, Doctor." She wags, then, glancing at Layth, turns and gives the Doctor a Khattan-style bow.

"Are you sure? It sure … oh never mind," Layth remarks and waves off the opportunity. "The captain wanted us both fitted with life collars. He wants us to undergo some sort of rapid learning program. This will not be too painful will it?"

The doctor presses a button on the robot, causing an exposed control panel to close. "Oh, well the timing is good," he notes. "I just finished entering the biometrics we took from you down in the Bio Lab, Layth, so the 'bot can deal with your physiology safely! Now… uh… you two just lie down on beds and I'll get everything started."

"Just watch, they'll make my head explode," Layth remarks quietly to Tasha. The buck then eyes one of the beds with an impassive and yet somehow slightly concerned look. His shoulders roll as if he was both shrugging and stretching and then he heads over to the bed and sits on the edge. "Face down or face up?" he asks louder.

"Only somewhat unpleasant," Tasha explains, rising. She begins towards the closet bed, turning to Layth as she continues on the matter. "The life collar is the worst part, being it connects in to your body. We won't remember it since we'll be drugged, but the removal is nasty." She hops up on the bed, shifting to get her wings arranged comfortably, "After that, we'll probably enter a really empty area – virtual realities all seem to have boring geography – and talk to Fred. If that part's skipped, or after that, it'll be a lot like we're living hours, even if it's really just seconds."

"If your head explodes I'll try and replace it with one made of gold," Tasha adds, grinning.

"Too late," Layth retorts and actually shakes his 'gold' mane.

"Okay, silver," Tasha insists, grinning more. She lays on her back, arms folded behind her head.

"Face up please," Caravelli says, as he brings over two collars wrapped in plastic, with all of their odd connections. "You'll be unconscious for the connection part, of course. The PersoCom link works when the brain is in a semi-dreaming state – I'm sure you've experienced lucid dreams or sleep paralysis at some time?"

"I've been connected to three different virtual realities and have wires in my head, I'm almost a VR expert," Tasha jokes, tail wagging. She leans forward to make the Doctor's job easier.

Layth swings his legs up on the bed and then lays back, making himself as comfortable as he can. The buck catches a glimpse at the plastic-wrapped collar and for a second his eyes narrow slightly. That passes, but … his right hand is twitching slightly now, thumb tapping against the sheet beneath him.

Sensing her friend's unease, the red woman turns and tells him, "It's not that kind of collar, Layth. It's just a medical tool to keep us alive, like that robot, or," she points at some kind of scanner, "whatever that is. I've worn it, it's nothing – really."

"Hm?" Layth remarks and rolls his head to the side. "I am fine," he claims.

The robot comes around next, with it's syringe-hands held out. "The injection will relax you and put you to sleep," Caravelli says in a calm doctor-voice. He points out the catheters in the collar, noting how one will feed neurotransmitters into the carotid artery and the other will filter out fatigue poisons from the vein. "Your brain can only remember things when it has the necessary ingredients, so this ensures you don't run low and wear out your neurons. There might be secondary memory recall, but that shouldn't be any worse than a dream."

"Well, as long as you're fine. You tell me if you need anything, I'll be right here." Tasha gives Layth a big friendly smile, then resumes watching Dr. Caravelli work. "Doctor, this isn't like my connection to Melchior is it?"

And then the robot injects both of them in the arm. "No, Tasha," the doctor explains. "The PersoCom system doesn't work the same, since it works through a more subconscious setup."

Layth nods slightly at that as his expression remains very neutral when he looks over one of the collars more up close. "So there will be some amount of injury to wear one," the buck simplifies for himself as much as anything. "Understood," he agrees. The injection doesn't so much as cause Layth to even blink, but his right thumb keeps tapping the sheet on the bed beneath. "I suppose I will see all of you in a bit."

"Oh," says Tasha, sounding a little bleary after the shot. "I'll have to read more about it, then." She eases herself back, holding a hand in front of her face as she watches it, and the rest of the world, fade away.

Things go dark, and then blurs of colors appear, followed by a feeling spiders crawling under the skin. And then things resolve into a sense of physical reality once more, leaving both Layth and Tasha in a very unexpected place… as children!

Something feels wrong to Tasha, besides from being only a few feet tall and somehow wearing a miniature version of her regular airship clothing. What is wrong is plainly obvious … you don't normally learn about how to operate a star ship in the middle of the winter in the wilderness. The air is cold and when the wind blows and whips up drifts of snow it practically feels like being bitten and clawed. All around her looms great trees; most devoid of foliage. Through the occasional breaks in them Tasha spots something she recognizes; a mountain range from Amazonia. The peaks are distinct and memorable, she spent time in them after all, when she found the Fenris.

"W-w-w-w-what?" Shivering in the cold, the child form of Tasha quickly wraps her arms and wings around herself – and then stares at them in disbelief. Were it not for the wind and snow pressing it all down, the prepubescent would be all fluffy fur and too-big downy wings, just shedding in to real flight feathers. She looks horrified, but as the chill bites deeper, she's pulled to the here and now. "W-where … H-h-hello? Is … Is anyone here? W-w-where am I … " As an adult, Tasha's voice is loud, often with a hint of bravado, and run through her her Rephidimian accent. The child's voice is high, and not at all confident.

Tasha's hello is answered by an all too unfriendly garbled and hungry-sounding howl that seems to tear through the landscape. Another howl joins into the chorus, followed by another. Whatever they are, they don't sound friendly and they are coming closer. Soon Tasha hears loud footsteps thumping in the snow. It almost drowns out the hurried-sounding smaller ones. All are headed her way, too.

The little girl begins to back away from the sounds, only to adjust her retreat as more and more howls erupt from different angles. She tries to spread her wings and fly, but she remembers how difficult it was early on, and with so much snow … Flap, flap, flap. Snow falls around her, but she goes nowhere. With the sky denied her, she turns around and runs away!

No matter how hard Tasha runs, the sounds close in, the beating of insistent feet; animals on the hunt. Up and over drifts she has to go but the deep snow making escape almost impossible as it pulls at her legs. If things couldn't get worse, something slams into her from behind, sending her, and it, tumbling down a steep snow drift!

Screaming, Tasha tumbles down the hill until she smacks in to a snowdrift. Scrambling, the little girl in the too-big tunic rises quickly – and she has her fists up. Up, but shaking, and from more than the cold. "I-I-I'm n-n-not af-afraid, I'm n-not," she screams, even as she begins to step away.

One of the messy piles of snow shifts in front of Tasha. A thickly furred, yet small, golden hand comes out of the snow. Another follows, then a golden-furred head head as a very young, and at first glance, Lapi. It … no, he (given he has no clothing on), pushes to his feet. His lips draw back in a far more scary way than should be possible on something descended from a rabbit. The reason why becomes clear to Tasha's sharp eyes, he's practically emaciated. Even with all the fur, joints are more pronounced throughout. Even his eyes seem sunken back into his head more than they should be. And … those eyes. The air feels cold, but those eyes are colder. Wild. Angry. "Monster," the child rasps out in Olympian as his own fingers curl into boney-looking fists.

The red child's ears shoot up at the boy crawling out from under the snow, eyes widening. She continues to step back, then pauses when she finally sees his full measure. "I'm n-n-not a monster, my mum s-says so! I'm a r-real V-Vartan," the girl insists, and in her own eyes, a hurt, angry glare replaces the wide-eyed fear. She looks the boy up and down, then says, "Y-you're so skinny!" Her eyes lock with the other child, and his hateful glare makes her begin to retreat all over again, until she sets her jaw and forces herself to stop, then levels an obscenity at the boy that belongs in a dive bar, not issuing from a child's lips!

The Lapi takes a few steps towards Tasha. The look in his eyes makes it clear his intention; he intends to kill. His approach stops short, though, when the howling returns and is quickly followed by heavy breathing and the relentless thumping of paws upon the ground beneath the snow. All around the two shapes begin to form in the blowing wind, large, armor-covered wolf-like creatures. Their hot breath sends out wafts of steam with each breath. Tasha can also make out that each of the creatures jaws hang open and saliva drips, melting small holes into the snow. She can also see crusting from dried foam caking their mouths.

"I-I'm a Vartan, I can … I can b-beat you," child Tasha screams at Layth, although from the uncertain tone, he may not be sure if the words are for him or to herself. She begins forward, fists raised and not at all akward. Apparently even this young, Tasha was fighting, if not to the degree Layth endured. She looks about to attack when the Vykarin break through the trees, forcing her back so she can face them, as well. She glances at the child beside her, then the beasts, and says, "W-we can fight later, we … we should run n-now!"

Shrill whistles pierce the air quickly followed by a sickening crunch as a barrage of crossbow bolts slam into one of the Vykarin. As blood spurts from the now shattered side-shell the creature shrieks and collapses into the snow bank. Its hot blood begins to cut a small river of death through the icy white. More whistles quickly follow as a barrage of more crossbow bolts sweep through the air above them. Some find their marks in the Vykarin, others miss. As more of the beasts fall, the remaining others begin to back away from the children … then turn tail and run.

"Aye, y-you better r-run!" Tasha yells after the beasts, kicking some snow after them. When the last has fled, she turns around and tells the little boy, "Y-you sure are s-skinny, I d-don't want t-t-to break you or s-something, you should eat t-then we can fight. You'll still l-lose though!"

The Lapi, for his part, roars after the retreating Vykarin! Well, in so much as a Lapi can, anyway. With his breath still heaving his head swings around so that he is once more glaring at Tasha. He's about to take yet another step towards Tasha when a voice calls out in standard, "Hey, Badir, looks like we've got a caravan survivor over here! Vartan or a mule if I made a guess. And … will you look at that! New meat for the market. Young enough to still be broken, I wager." The voice, as it turns out, is coming from a human dressed in thick furs and carrying one heavy, and nasty, looking crossbow.

Even at such a young age, Tasha has seen enough to know the sort of men she sees before her. Pirates, slavers, pick pockets and worse dotted her childhood, all kept at talon's reach by her mother and the crew, when the could be. But not all of them. She eyes the approaching men warily, backing away and furtively looking for an escape route.

A Khatta now walks up to join the human in looking down on the children. "Forgive me, but are you out of your mind, Ahzar? That is one of them. An Amazonian, a beast in the skin of a Lapi," the Khatta remarks as he pulls back the cocking lever on his own crossbow. "We should offer mercy it it and ourselves and simply kill it. It is half-dead already."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Ahzar remarks and smacks the underside of his companion's crossbow. "Girl, over here," he shouts at Tasha. "Get away from that thing. We'll take care of it."

And never having been a quiet child, learning to hold her tongue was no more Tasha's strength then as it is now. She looks between the men, and the little boy, and for all his ferocity and pain, she also sees someone, maybe, not so different from her. Someone outcast, someone looking for a fight, to take what wasn't given. A rival. A victim. Somewhere in her mind, a sleeping memories stir. Turning back to the men, she yells, "I f-found him f-first, t-t-that means he's m-mine!"

"He would kill you in an instant. They're just animals," Azhar, the human, claims as he now heads towards the pair, "With work, though, even they can be taught to serve. Work and the lash, that is." Badir finally manages to load his crossbow and quickly follows his human companion.

The young Lapi takes a step back and sets his jaw. With a distinctly un-lapilike growl the child surges forward with impressive speed as he darts past Tasha and leaps upward, landing hard against Azhar's chest. As he hangs on by his left hand, the Lapi's right draws back. The child swings hard and his bony knuckles find their target, the human's nose. Even Tasha can hear bone crunch under the blow.

"B-but … " Looking between the men and the boy, the young woman seems uncertain, until finally she steps away. "L-looks like y-you … " And then he's off running, the Vartan tracking the attack with her acute vision. Stunned, it takes her a few seconds to yell, "D-don't be stupid, y-you can't take slavers!" Looking all around her, she tries to find her own way out.

The human practically howls himself as blood begins running down his face. He grabs the Lapi by the scruff of his neck and hurdles him right into the trunk of a tree. It may be his coat is the only thing that saves him from having his back broken with the way he impacts into that tree. He slides down and lands in a heap at the base. It's feeble, but the Lapi actually starts to try and get up.

For Tasha, there are several ways to run it looks like. The slavers don't seem particularly keen on her. Or at least they haven't made a grab for her yet. "I did warn you," Badir the Khatta notes to his cursing and bleeding friend, "They're animals." The feline then waves towards Tasha, saying, "Get over here, child. You'll be safer; this wilderness is prowling with monsters. We'll reach an outpost in a few days and we can leave you there."

Tasha watches from behind her wings as her arms rub her to keep her warm. She doesn't yell again, just watching. It hazy memories of watching scenes like this before tug at her. When she couldn't win, she ran. Her head turns to guage a wilderness she doesn't know, then the men. A chance in the dark beats certain death in the cold, and so she slowly begins forward. "Just … l-leave me at port. The C-captain w-will p-p-pay you."

"No problem. We'll need the port to transport the new meat anyway," Badir remarks. As for the new 'meat', well the rather bloodied Azhar has gown over to the struggling Lapi. The human drops down onto his knees, planting one firmly into the back of the Lapi. He yanks off a worn, smaller, ironwood-made collar from his worn leather belt and holds it in front of the child's barely open eye. "Get to know this well," the human growls. The collar snaps open and as it closes around the Lapi's neck, Tasha's vision gives her the chance to see one more thing in the eyes of the fallen Lapi. Terror. That looks remains frozen on his face as the human roughly grabs the small lop-ears and then slams his head back against the tree trunk one more time.

The girl watches from beside the other man, ears flat, frowning even as her eyes are hard. Fear and weakness, failure and defeat, and survival. There was little she could do back then, and here and now, nothing more to be done. People stronger than her had their way, when her own were too far to save her – and for a boy with nothing, she imagines losing may be all he ever had. "L-lets go," she tells the man beside her, turning and beginning to walk the way they came with her tail tucked. She doesn't want to see anymore.

Tasha gets her wish, she sees no more as everything around them disperses to a staticy white nothing. Hisses of noise, garbled words in an unknown language. Hard to say how much time really passes before even some sound makes sense. "He keeps breaking the collars off," a voice whispers from somewhere on Tasha's right. "Not unexpected, they are a difficult breed," comes another to her left, "There is a simple solution to it, we'll slave-mark his ears. Let's see if the little animal is willing to rip them off." It grows silent as a tomb for a time … and then something creeps back into the nothingness, the broken voice of a child crying.

The static gives way to green. Tasha and Layth find themselves in a strange room full of chairs, like an auditorium only smaller. Now they're in their teens again. On the stage is Fred Kohler, and there are lots of figures and numbers on the green board behind him. "Okay, now that the data has been implanted, we can begin the actual lessons… " he says cheerfully.

Layth looks like he's seen a ghost. He's sitting uptight and stiff, his right hand gripping the single right-side arm-rest of his auditorium-desk. "Implanted? Data?" the buck says, straining as if he has to force his jaw to work. "Right. Lessons on the ship. Power systems… "

The young woman reaches up to rub her head, even knowing it's not really her head and that the gesture probably won't help. Was it just a dream? The boy looked like Layth … So many dreams of people and places, of life and death. It feels strangely prophetic; No, personal. Another memory that doesn't belong to her? She looks up and glances at Layth, and his expression is all she needs to know the truth. Standing up, she walks down the isle to where he sits. She gives the man a smile, trying to hide her worry behind the friendliness, and says, "You looked lonely over here." Without waiting for permission, she drops in to a seat next to him and turns forward to listen.