While Tasha never went to school or had any sort of general education, it isn't as if she hadn't learned things. Some of the things she learned came from her mother. And one of them was how to warm up a man before asking him for something. To this end, Tasha made sure Gabriel went to sleep happy, and now plans to make sure he wakes up the same way.

The captain's bed is a tangled mess, and Akkers left his mouth open enough to drool on the pillow while asleep. And he's still asleep, when Tasha returns to the room.

Tasha stands in the doorway, leaning on the frame and smiling as she watches her sleeping mate. Her right hand balances a plate of eggs and bacon, with some fresh fruit she went and got herself that very morning. Her left hand holds two mugs: one is her favorite exceptionally shiny crystalline mug taken from the Talon Lounge filled with Vartan beer, and the other is filled with fresh-squeezed orange juice. And there she stands for a little while, just enjoying watching Gabriel sleep soundly. But eventually she steps forward and places the meal she made for him on his nightstand, where his nose can wake him up. Then, she walks back over and sits down at his console to stare at the launch figures until he awakens.

"Mmrrpgh," the Karnor grunts, before yawning and stretching. "The breakfast fairy has paid me a visit, oh… " he starts to say, then acts mock surprised when he sees Tasha, and even pulls the bedsheet up over his chest.

Tasha grins wickedly, but also salutes from where she's sitting. "Good morning, Captain," she bids the man, then holds up the two mugs, "Orange juice or Vartan beer. One is good for you, the other is orange juice," she offers for him to pick.

"Beer first thing in the morning? Must be an airship tradition," Gabriel says, and actually takes a sip of the beer when it's brought over. "Gah! That's… uh… strong," he notes.

"Beer in the morning, evening, and at night. Beer keeps better than water, after all. I didn't even know beer could be bad for you until Doc C. explained it to me," the woman says as she sits down beside Gabriel. She leans over to peer at the shiny mug, brows raising. "Is it? I always thought other beers were too weak. You better have this, I don't want to damage your delicate Terran parts – not after all that effort!" She holds out the orange juice, smiling.

The man arches an eyebrow and trades for the orange juice, which he manages to sip (something few Karnors in Tasha's experience have managed – it was always a 'knobby' thing to do. Real wolves quaff everything!). "You're being awfully domestic this morning. Did you cook this meal yourself?"

Tasha seems very interested in the sipping, but looks up when her mate speaks. "Mm? Oh, I did!" She beams, glad the man noticed and didn't assume it was one of the others. "I wasn't always on the airship working. Some times, I also helped mom in the Fallen Friend, and besides being the serving wench I also did some cooking. Do you like it?" Her ears perk.

Gabriel silently cuts into his eggs and bacon, and chews thoughtfully – although his tail wags quite a bit, spoiling the surprise. "They're delicious!" he claims.

"Good! That's the right answer," Tasha insists, flopping down to watch the man eat with her head resting on her hand. "I found some herbs and, after checking them over in the lab for toxicity and matching, was able to use them in the meal for added flavor." Her free hand lifts her mug to her lips, sipping at it.

"Nobody has watched me eat with such interest since college," Gabriel notes. "What's on your mind, Tasha?"

"I was told this was something early generation Karnors did," Tasha explains as she watches, tail wagging slowly. "But I had something to ask you too, so I figured I'd do both at once! It's a bit of an official request, so maybe I'm not putting it to you right, but here it is: I'd like your permission to investigate the Progenitors. Specifically, the artifacts and connects thought to be related them, including the Progenitor Cult, the Magi, and objects called 'Origin Markers.'"

"So… you want to do some library research?" Gabriel asks, just to be sure. "It's been thousands of years, after all. And you think they're linked to Melchior?"

"I do." Tasha confirms. She reaches behind herself and digs out her Vartan datapad, manipulating it until two split images pop up: the supposed Vartan and Titanian Origin Markers. "These are the Origin Markers I know of. The Titanian one is a complete mystery, but the Vartan one is speculated to be in possession of the Harbinger Clan, which is technically my clan. They were transferred en mass off Orpheus to the Ark, and this may be why. I also believe the Melchior, being very out of place, is meant to interact with this object and deliver it somewhere. The pilot may also play a role, that I don't know." Taking a breath, Tasha then adds, "I wanted to broach this subject with you early, because I don't want a repeat of my last 'individual research project.' I mean, I want you to know what I'm doing, both as the Captain and as Gabriel."

"So, you're saying that you suspect there are more of these markers and accompanying Titans out there in the ruins of the Expedition fleet," Gabriel surmises. "Given that we'll probably be investigating those places anyway, I don't see that your project would interfere with anything. Although, we do know where the Ark landed, at least."

"Yes. The Ark is the Temple of Rephidim, although it's not exactly accessible to the public. It may be we can trade for the Origin Marker, given it features Vartans and probably isn't particularly special to the Temple except being ancient." Tasha pulls her hooves in, switching to sit cross-legged with her beer in her lap. "I plan to ask the Melchior if it knows anything about the Marker. There is a concern that the Marker, or some other object, is meant to interface with the pilot, but that's just speculation on our parts – and by our I mean mine, Blammo's, and the NTAIC."

"NTAIC?" Gabriel asks, bacon strip paused midway to oblivion. "Non-Terran Artificial Intelligence… Cooperative?"

Tasha grins at the attempt. "Close! Naga Triadic Artificial Intelligence Cores."

"I have a hard time with their names, and the generic description is lengthy," the woman admits.

"Oh! Clever," Gabriel says, then gets an odd look. "What's your shorthand description for us ancient Karnors and ghosts then?"

"Family," the woman answers without hesitation, tail wagging.

Tasha earns a bacon-flavored kiss for that… and an offering of actual bacon too! From the Alpha!

The young woman leans in to the kiss, grinning, and "Ooh!"s when offered the bacon. She munches it down and then leans back. "Well, now my train of thought is derailed, but it was worth it," she admits.

"I'm not too keen on the notion of those tablets doing something to the pilots," Gabriel points out. "But they're important cultural artifacts, and it wouldn't do to have them be buried in a closet or used as footstools or anvils."

"I agree. And remember, it's just speculation. I have a lot of ideas about them but few real facts. We have strong evidence that the Titanians and the Vartans are linked to these objects. Given the Magi connection, we can also safely assume there are three objects for three Titans and three pilots. The third species is unknown, but given the facts, my guess is that it's the Khattans themselves. And here's why: they produced the Melchior, they know of the Progenitors and fear the Progenitor mythology, they have unique technology, and they seem to fill a specific social role." Tasha taps her datapad, then shows the three races and her notes about them. "Vartans: warriors. Titanians: engineers. Khattans: domestic overseers. If you look at it that way, we'd all fill a role around a central 'lord' species."

"Hmm, you've put some serious analysis into this," Gabriel says, sounding a little surprised… but also proud. "The Khattans have always been protective of their origins and secrets. And they'd have the resources and contacts to pull off something big like this – they funded a good chunk of the Expedition, after all."

The young woman wags all the more at the pride and compliment, her face beaming. "Exactly! And they've been in space "longer than anyone can remember," and no one knows their home planet, right? Just like the Titanians and the Vartans. I think there was a Khattan Progenitor element in the Fleet, possibly even at the highest level, but we won't know without more records. I'd need to access the Ark and search," Tasha explains. She takes a deep breath, letting it out as she bobs her head, "Oi, going in to Rephidim Temple! That'll be something, if they even let us."

"I'd suggest asking for something useful but not terribly secret," Gabriel says. "Like… where did the Vartans that arrived on the Ark settle to?"

"That's a good point. I could also show them a picture of the item, and see if they have it and are willing to trade it." Turning her head down to the images in her hand, Tasha frowns. "It could just be sitting on the surface, worshiped by a Vartan clan. My feeling is that they have something to do with the machines they're linked to, too. Maybe they're more than stones. Given a TL2 Titan with a a neuro-interface was chosen, that may be a key to understanding them. But, we won't know until we look."

The woman slides off the bed, standing. "Anyway, that was my idea. I'm glad you're okay with it; I think it'll help the mission to learn more. Fred needs me in … ," she eyes her datapad, " … ten minutes, so I'd better be going. But, I'm glad you liked breakfast!"

"You're going? Oh… that beer didn't affect you at all?" Gabriel asks, looking shocked.

"Should it?" Tasha peers down in to her mug, blinking. "Did I miss something, Gabriel? If you want me to stay a little longer, well, you just have to say so. I'm just trying to be good here, and not press my advantage!"

"No, if you have an appointment to keep, I can't interfere with that," Gabriel says, looking at his empty plate. "It was just nice having a normal breakfast, I suppose. We'll have to do it again. Often."

"We will," Tasha agrees, smiling. "I'll try and see if I can make some other dishes, but we never made much you'd consider more than simple. Fancy was for uptown!" The woman tucks her datapad away, then begins for the exit. "If you need me, you know where to find me!" Then she blows a kiss as the door slides open.

Gabriel makes a show of catching the kiss, before the door closes again.

In preparation for receiving the Silent-One Titan, most of the day has been spent rearranging the cargo bay and adding a makeshift restraint system for the huge machine. Melchior has also been activated, waiting near the rear of Bellerophon for the final phase. And then the giant doors at the far corner of the hangar open, and the gold-and-black behemoth lumbers through them.

The huge titan moves with little grace as it lumber-wobbles on its odd digitigrade legs through the massive doors and into the hanger. If it had a skilled pilot, it would likely be terrifying, but, well, it has a poorly educated Lapi at the controls and it shows. Furthermore, it loses more of its fierceness when it barks. Loudly. Fitting, since that is the only sound a Silent-One can make. The main comms crackle and Layth can be heard to remark, "Oh, so that is what that button does."

The loud bark elicits a howl from somewhere in the hangar, as Blammo replies.

"Melchior confirming visual of the Silent-One Titan, IFF reports it as a Reaper-class belonging to Commander Bathed-in-Gold," a familiar woman's voice reports over the open comm. To Layth's ears, Tasha's voice sounds distinctly synthetic, much as if a Synth were attempting to replicate it. Across the hangar the massive, but still slightly smaller, Titan Melchior turns its head to watch the other machine advance. "Melchior to Reaper; You're moving oddly, Layth. Are you experiencing mechanical trouble?"

"Some of us don't get fancy controls to move huge machines. This thing is hard to control," the buck replies over the comm as it continues to lumber down the hangar. "And nothing is labeled. Or wasn't. Now it is decorated in sticky notes."

"They come in many colors," reports the translated voice of Fallen-Star.

Overhead, the huge mobile crane follows the progress of the Titan, and closer to Melchior parts of the gantry and cradle begin to retract in order to allow for better access to the open cargo doors.

"I see," replies the Melchior's pilot. "Let me know if you need further assistance. Melchior standing by." The Khattan-made Titan shifts its gaze to watch the crane move, tracking it. While she waits, Tasha inquires of her AI, "Melchior, I have a question for you: do you have any information regarding a 'gift' you are supposed to be linked to, or an object known as a 'Origin Marker?'"

"My database does not include any information regarding an object known as an Origin Marker," the machine-mind replies. "It unlikely vital to my function."

"If I kick anything, well, I hope it won't be important," Layth remarks and the comm grows silent. The suit marches ever onward towards the other end of the bay and the loading crane. "The original pilot would be beside himself if he saw how his Titan was being piloted, I imagine," Layth remarks to his 'holo' co-pilot.

"Since he would be six thousand years old, I doubt he would remember possessing this Titan," Fallen-Star notes in translation.

"Hmm. Can you access my datapad via its remote uplink? There is an image there; Orpheus records also do not list this item. Further, do you know anything about a 'Progenitor' mission? Gifts? A mission the three Magi were meant to accomplish?" Switching back to general communications, the Melchior's pilot sends, "All objects have been removed from the approach path. You are clear, Reaper."

"You remember stuff," Layth points out, "And you're that old too." Layth pauses in walk to ensure the suit's arms are down and out of the way, for, well … just in case. It would be terrible to damage this machine, even if it is a six thousand year old death machine … and even though the stupid seat is practically rubbing his stub tail raw.

"My only preset missions are simulations," Melchior claims. After a moment, however, the image of the ancient stones appears in Tasha's field of view.

Something is nipping at the heels of Layth's oversized robotic armor: Blammo. While the Titanian is big… the Reaper is still over six times as tall.

Inside her head, Tasha registers surprise. Her actual body remains slack and blank-staring. "It has been suggested that your construction involves these stone somehow, that there are three, and this one," the woman wills the Vartan stone forward, "Is yours. Ours, actually. Further, connection to these stones may also include a second device the pilot is meant to connect t-" Her thoughts are broken off by the appearance of Blammo's Titan, causing her to broadcast, "Scratch that; Blammo detected in approach path."

Layth makes the huge Reaper bark again once he spots Blammo messing around at its feet. "Blammo!" he shouts into the comm. "If you're not careful I'm going to step on you!" The buck then sighs and marches on. The sooner this is stored, the better.

The advantage of having a long stride is covering ground quickly. And Blammo isn't fast enough to get directly under a dropping foot. But he's soon distracted by trying to jump up and catch the tail swinging as a counterweight.

The Melchior's head continues to track the two as they near, its expressionless black face a far cry from Tasha's own. "Anyway," she tells her AI in an exasperated tone, "You have no memory of the objects? Maybe a training simulation linked to them?"

"How much do Silent-One's hate having their tails grabbed?" Layth actually asks once he spots Blammo's next antics. "And why doesn't he bother Tasha's Titan? No tail?"

Gabriel comes on the comm channel, announcing that he's lowering the crane cables now, once the Reaper is halfway to the butt-end to Bellerophon.

"Her's is not moving," Fallen-Star suggests.

"Canines prefer chasing felines to avians, also," Gabriel suggests.

"We are less brightly colored, and not as noisy," Tasha adds over the comm.

"Simulations can only be accessed in simulation mode," Melchior informs Tasha. "Entering simulation mode is not advised at this time; it is best to do so while in the docking cradle."

"Then why do you chase Tasha?" Layth quips into the comm. He briefly considers trying to make a rude gesture with the hands, but decides that's a bit too difficult to attempt with his level of skill with the arms and hands. So … he wiggles his butt instead to try and swing the tail harder and swat Blammo away!

"Understood Melchior. We'll address this matter later. Thank you for your input." After watching Layth's antics a moment, the Lapi can see the Melchior slowly shake its head.

SMACK! The tail dips low enough to send the Titanian into a rolling tumble across the hangar floor, which Blammo seems intent on extending as long as possible by folding into a ball. It looks like Titanians can actually bounce to some degree.

"I'm going to need a Silent-One name after all this," Layth mutters and continues forward, deliberately trying to ignore the bouncing Titanian behind him. "How do you need me positioned, Gabriel?" he asks into the comm

Melchior tracks the Titanian's departure for a few seconds before its head returns to watch the Reaper approach. "How has the Reaper held up, Layth? Did you have any problems with the systems?" Tasha inquires in that same near-Tasha synthetic voice.

"Layth, can you make it lie flat on it's back?" Gabriel asks over the channel. "Otherwise we'll have to use some crane tricks and Melchior to get it there from a standing position."

"It is holding up fine. I, however, am getting tired. Controlling this is … difficult at the best of times. And as for lying down … I'm not entirely sure. Maybe with help. I bet I can get it to squat, but to lie back … well," Layth answers, "I'm not too confident."

"In that case, just try to stand upright with the arms and tail down," Gabriel says. "Tasha, you'll need to hold it steady so that it doesn't tip over without the tail being active."

"I've come to understand Titan piloting can extract a toll on the body, be it the Silent-One 'manual' style or the Khattan Vartan neuro-array," Tasha confides. "Understood Captain, Melchior moving out." The Melchior begins to move now, slowly circling around the other Titan, its right hand extending to brush along the other machine's frame just slightly as it walks.

"How do I stop the tail?" Layth wonders as he marches the suit the remaining distance and draws to a stop under the crane. "I'll show you the controls later if you want. You wouldn't be able to use them, they do require a specific body to work well. They barely work for me and I'm somewhat close in build to a silent-One." And without thinking of a better way to do it, Layth lifts himself up onto his toes and sits down on that annoying seat, practically giving himself a 'wedgie' in the process in an attempt to shut the tail down.

With the Auto Balancer system deactivated, the tail begins to droop. There are no warnings or alarms in the Silent-Ones Titan, unsurprisingly. Which is good, because Layth would have no idea how to deactivate them.

"I need a longer tail to pilot this thing," Layth confides to Fallen-Star.

"I look forward to it, Layth." Melchior's pilot replies. "I'll share the honor with the Melchior, too, if you like. I've managed to get the cockpit to display more than a blank wall. And I can't imagine the Silent-Ones would want me piloting their machine, anyway. This is where I belong." Layth can head a clung, followed by another resonate through the hull as the Melchior's hands come to rest on its back, now that the tail is still. "Captain, be advised I'm not sure I can prevent the Reaper from falling in the event of catastrophic loss of balance. Not without engaging the engines, and maybe not even then."

Magnetic anchors on the ends of sturdy cables begin to drape down around the two Titans. "Tasha, I need you to place the first two anchors behind the shoulders, then the next two at the elbows. Third set at the hips and the fourth behind the knees. I'll play out the lines as needed," Gabriel instructs.

"Are you calling me fat?" Layth remarks into the comm after Tasha claims she couldn't balance the Silent-One titan should it start to fall.

So far, sheer mass and balance seem to be keeping the Reaper upright. While only ten or so feet taller than Melchior, the Silent-Ones Titan can easily be four or more times as heavy.

"You do lack a proper tail," Fallen-Star offers to Layth.

"Roger, Captain. Proceeding to acquire and attach cable connections," reports the Melchior. The machine keeps its left hand on the Reaper, right reaching out to grab the dangling cable and its magnetic attachment. The Melchior's hand grabs the cable deftly and slides down until it has the end, picking that up and reaching it towards his machine's shoulder.

"Not that I can actually do anything about that," Layth notes to the 'holo' co-pilot. He takes the momentary break as a chance to slip his arms out of the arm-harness and let them rest.

KLUNK! At least the Titan is made of magnetic material – or at least the mounting points are. From behind, it's clear where the anchoring points for the Titan's cradle are.

"Have you thought about how you will get out?" Fallen-Star asks.

"I assume I'll open it and get out similar to how I got in," Layth answers. "Though rope or a ladder may be involved."

As the cable moves, Tasha insists over the comm., "Of course not. Calling you fat, or suggesting the Silent-Ones have a fat head for building such a thing, wouldn't be in keeping with the ethic of a Titan pilot." She might be joking, she might not be; the way her simulated voice comes off as distinctly artificial makes reading her undertone a little hazy. "Right-shoulder cable secured. Proceeding to acquire and attach left-shoulder cable," she reports.

The second cable connects firmly, and Gabriel takes up the slack to make sure the connections will hold. This also keeps the Titan upright so Tasha is free to use both hands.

"And just think, Gabriel is now watching you fondle a metal extension of my body," Layth comments into the comm. To Fallen-Star, he asks, "How long did pilots of these things remain in them?"

The Melchior takes a step backwards, removing its bracing hand. "It won't be the Captain watching with interest," the machine insists as it reaches out to grab one, one cable in each hand, carrying them back to the Reaper's rear where it attached them both at once.

"True, Fred is the type to watch two masculine creatures enjoy each other, isn't he?" Layth quips.

"I am not sure, but there are stories of duels which lasted for several days until one of the pilots eventually expired from exhaustion," Fallen-Star notes.

"That is mildly disturbing," Layth notes to Fallen-Star, but then my people have similar, odd, customs.

"Titans can't fondle one another," Gabriel insists. "But that little finger brush was distracting, Tasha… "

"That sounds like a challenge, Captain," Layth notes.

"I did not say that. Left-center and right-center cables attached, Captain," Tasha insists as she moves the Melchior away and towards the remaining two cables. "That was a motion to keep our arm within bracing distance in the event emergency maneuvers were required."

"Let's not make this any weirder that it has to be," Gabriel transmits. "I know Fred is listening in and probably getting ideas."

"I just spent a couple hours wearing myself out in this machine, I reserve the right to find humor somehow," Layth notes into the comm. And as for weird, Layth remarks to Fallen-Star, "I just realized your kind probably hunted and ate my ancestors."

"We did not have Lapines on Zion," Fallen-Star claims. "We have a four-legged ungulate with horns that is very fast however."

After acquiring the last two lines, the Melchior marches back to the rear of the Reaper and stoops to begin their attachment. "I wouldn't do anything to damage the sanctity of the Melchior," Tasha insists. As usual, her tone is a little off. She also doesn't laugh at all, or produce anything in the way of 'gut' sounds; likely all due to the nature of her interface. It's an advantage Layth might be thankful for as he speaks with his holo-partner.

Once the final connections are in place, Gabriel says, "Okay, if you can lock the limbs in place without powering down, please do so now Layth. Or else cut the power to them if that will do it."

Layth slips his arms back into the harness and holds them firm and still, same as with his legs. "I'll hold it immobile," he announces into the comm.

With the last attachments placed, the Melchior begins slowly walking backwards, and away. "We are moving to a safe distance, and standing by, Bellerophon."

"Starting to lift," Gabriel says. The cables work at different speeds, so that the shoulders stay at the same height but the feet are being lifted fastest, to try and get the Titan into a face-down, horizontal pose.

The strain is… heavy… on Layth to keep the limbs in position. It's one thing to lift a heavy foot – but it's very different trying to push it out straight, along with the weight of your own body as the angle shifts.

"Don't trap me in this machine, Captain," Layth remarks, teeth gritted, as he feels it start to tilt and his muscles ache as he tries to hold the machine completely still … with the strain ever increasing.

"Maybe you should just switch back to Neutral?" Fallen-Star suggests, as her communications bowl begins to swivel a bit as well.

"In the event of a emergency we, or the Bellerophon crew, can extract you from the Titan," Tasha promises from her safe vantage point in the Melchior, which has withdrawn out of the danger area.

"You'll be needed to catch him when he drops out, Tasha," Gabriel says, as he slowly moves the Titan towards Bellerophon to avoid any swaying. "There isn't enough room on the gantry to let him open the cockpit over it."

Layth uses one of his fingers to try and switch it back to 'neutral'.

"We are standing by," the Melchior repeats after the news its pilot will need to catch the pilot of the other machine.

There's a loud series of sliding-piston noises from within the suspended Titan, as the limbs lock into place, giving Layth some relief… and a cramp in his left calve.

"Why did I recover this thing, again?" Layth mutters to himself as he painfully tries to stretch hos foot out and get the cramp to release.

While it waits, the Melchior raises its right arm . Held before its head, the limb open and closes with deliberate precision before, before it is lowered again.

"To impress Silent-One females?" Fallen-Star guesses with an ear-wiggle.

"Okay, no reason for you to ride this out hanging from a harness, Layth," Gabriel says. "Can you shut down the power and open the cockpit? I'm sure Tasha will be very gentle."

"Are you impressed?" Layth counters. "And what is this about falling out of the machine?"

A look through the monitors should explain the situation – the Titan is now horizontal, face down, 50-feet above the hangar floor. Melchior's hand is also clearly visible.

The buck then sighs and says, "Yes, probably." He reaches up and flips the main power switches to shut down the machine first. Once the controls go dark, he grabs up Fallen-Star's projector in one hand. "Time for me to die, I suppose," he says.

The cockpit opens, revealing the Lapi strapped into the piloting harness in the center of the chest.

"My manipulatory precision has reached acceptable levels of skill, according to the simulation assessment," Tasha assures Layth over the comm. Her machine begins forward again, re-entering the danger zone as its head rises and hand lifts again. "Please do not compensate if you fall in an unexpected fashion; we will accommodate you." The black machine's great three-fingered claw rises towards Layth like the hand of a god, the digits spreading until a flat platform of glistening golden talon settle below him. It's a good many feet down, and it looks like a dangerous fall. The Melchior is tall, but not quite that tall.

"If I die in a spray of guts and blood, I hope they make your joints rust," Layth remarks dryly as he uses his free hand to release the latch of his harness and drop like a rock!

The surface of Melchior's palm is studded with raised dimples, which are great for gripping very large things. Not so much for small things though. When Layth hits, his undersuit immediately goes rigid to absorb the impact – which unfortunately leaves him immobilized for several critical seconds, during which time he slides right off the side! Tasha tries to grab with Melchior's other hand, further down, but once again the buck's armor immobilizes him on impact and he slides off again! Layth plummets for another fifteen feet, turned so that he's looking up at the chest of the Titan and the grabbing hands of Melchior, with impact just a heartbeat away…

"I knew she would kill me. Well, it was a toss-up between her or Aisha," Layth finds himself thinking as he plummets backwards, his stomach left far, far, above in the cockpit of the Silent-One Titan.

The expected impact doesn't come. Which isn't to say there isn't an impact; it just turns out to be with something less immobile than the hangar floor. When Layth can move again, he finds himself sprawled atop Blammo.

"Wooooof!" the Titanian exhales.

"Owww," Layth complains as pins and needles explode throughout his body after the impact on Blammo and the rigidity of his armor putting pressure on dozens of nerve clusters all at once. When he doesn't feel like he turned into a pile of goo, though, he blinks in confusion. "Woof?" he asks.

"What happened?" Gabriel says over the radio. "I can't see past Melchior!"

"Catch unsuccessful; reactive armor deflected off talon surface. Pilot Layth has been caught by Blammo," the great black machine reports a few seconds after Blammo has caught the Lapi. "Standing down." The machines hands return to its side, its expressionless black face looking down and watching the two men.

"Ow. Ow too," the big wolf notes.

"I hope you don't expect a kiss," Layth remarks to the Titanian beneath him. He winces a bit, but manages to roll off the huge body anyway.

There are likely bruises. And possibly they will be in a spotted pattern, you never know.

"They should probably both be taken to Med Bay," Gabriel says.

"I am not receiving distress reports from Layth's lifecollar. Confirm, Medical?" A pause, and then the Melchior sends, "Yes, Captain."

"I don't think I am broken, but I do not feel good," Layth remarks from where he now lays sprawled on the floor. "I probably broke Fallen-Star's projector, too."

The projector is indeed silent and unlit.

"Gabriel, tell Fallen-Star I am alive," the buck says into his comm. "She may be worried."

"I can't tell if she's replying or not, but I think the message got to her," Gabriel says. "Having Med Bay prep. Tasha can get you there, then Fred and I can get this beast loaded up."

"Do we need to remain on site, or should we return to base, Captain?" The Melchior is a otherwise silent shadow over the two men, just watching them, still as a statue.

When Tasha's given the order to relocate the two men, there's a long pause before she sends, "Understood. Standby for boarding, Layth. Please inform Blammo." The great machine begins to kneel, then extends its hand, opening it near the floor.

Blammo doesn't need to be told. He scuttles over on all fours to hug the hand.

"Blammo, time to get some bandages," the buck grumbles as he rolls to all fours and crawls over to the hand, then up on it.

The Melchior actually reaches its other hand down to gently try and pat Blammo, before its loaded hand begins to rise. The patting hand shifts to cup the men, creating a bowl that keeps the men center. After rising, the Titan heads towards the lift.

From there, it's much easier. Fred helps the men along the gantry to the Med Bay, so Tasha can return Melchior to its 'in case of emergency' place near the rear of Bellerophon, as the Gabriel moves the Titan towards it.

"If anyone ever tells you to jump out of a Titan, Fred, just tell them no," Layth remarks to the former Karnor as he lips down the hallway; his calf still cramping.

While Layth and Blammo are led to medical beds for scanning by Dr. Caravelli's PC, Fred returns to direct the docking procedure. The channel is still open, so everyone can hear. "That's it Cap, ease the tip in… Not too fast. That's it, nice and gentle. Mmmmm, you've done this before, haven't you?"

The Melchior responds to commands as it has, waiting and watching from its emergency station. What isn't seen, is the worried young woman behind all that cybernetic armor. The interface provides her a measure of distance from both her body and the world around her, but it can't stop her anxiety or her fear. If she could feel her body, comotose as it is while her nervous system pilots the machine that encloses her, she'd feel heart heart still beating rapidly from the knowledge of having almost watched her friend die.

Layth, meanwhile, just shakes his head at Fred's instructions. "Fred, you are hopeless. Cute, but hopeless," he mutters into the comm, his voice still tinted with pain from the rather uncomfortable landing he just lived through. "right now I think I just want a nap," the buck decides. "And pretend that didn't just happen."