The crowd in here is unlike any Tasha has met before, as Sinai has few - if any - factories or steel mills. A group of humans, Karnors and Silent-Ones at the next table over laugh uproariously at a story signed and pantomimed by one of the cheetahs, while a group of women in overalls sit at the bar and chat. While there is plenty of drinking going on, the place has none of the sense of immanent danger as her mother's place did, dealing with sailors, pirates and smugglers.
"You gotta try this!" Hakeber claims, setting a small glass of amber liquid in front of Tasha at their table. "It'll put hair on your liver!"
For a moment, Tasha looked to be somewhere else. She watched the tavern crowd with an expression that marks her as foreign to the place, a look between perplexity and wonder, her mind trying to put a finger on the difference. The request snaps her from her thoughts, causing her to perk ehr ears and turn to look at the drink. "Really?" She sniffs at it a moment but, not being one to turn down a free drink, picks it up and throws it back.
The liquid burns the back of her throat, but is otherwise far better than anything she drank back home. It reminds her of the time she lifted a nobleman's flask - booze with actual flavor. "It's Expedition Whiskey," Hakeber claims, taking the time to savor her own glass. "Not literally, of course - it's made here and isn't thousands of years old.."
When the shot glass goes down, Tasha is smiling, licking her lips. "I like it. It's been a long time since I had anything this good, if you don't count the ancient Vartan beer we found. Miss Hakeber ..." The young half-Vartan's gaze falls upon the woman with the intensity of curious avians, that powerful stare the seems to pick out every detail. Tasha realizes this bar isn't the only thing that feels out of place; the scholar before her, even this town, all feel somehow different. Tasha thinks, at least for Hakeber, it must be her age, and her odd styling. It's perculiar, but also somehow very familiar. She knows she doens't usually get along with other women, but rarely have they seemed so intriguing. "This place, this city, there's something unusual here. It's unlike any other city I've been to on Abaddon, but I can't quite articulate why. Maybe you understand, having lived here?"
"Well, it's a lot dustier than any other city," Hakeber says, laughing at what must be a common local joke. "Harder too! Nobody's ever attacked it, because.. well.. this is the one place sacred to all the factions," she notes. "This is where we landed. I bet it's like where the Ark landed on Sinai, right?"
"Oi, well ..," Tasha runs a hand back through her hair, figuring its so dust filled she may as well anyway, "Not exactly. The crew of the Ark took their Terran Trade Library and uplifted a wide variety of stored genomes to produce a lot of the species you see there today, and they also used their position and strength to become the great world power on Sinai. Now they're a secretive pseudo-theocracy run by a technological and wealthy elite."
"Oh..." Hakeber says, blinking in surprise. "Well, in that case.. uh.. I don't know what makes this place unusual to you? I mean.. you've been to Elamoore and New Zion, right?"
"Aye. I lived in Rephidim, too. I've been all over the world of Sinai, and even in to space. But this is different." Turning, Tasha fixes her gaze on a group of laughing patrons. Her head turns, gaze shifting out the window to the industrial skyline, and sand filled horizon. She turns again, to Hakeber. The images pool in her mind, mingling with what Hakeber has told her, the answer finally coming to her. "I know, now." She smiles, turning to look out the window as people walk by. "This city is free. Not just free of a central government, but also free of the chains of nation, and of war. Here are people living together.=, if maybe not in harmony, at least in a degree of tolerance and accord. It may be dusty and rusted, but this place, it has a heart." Turning back, Tasha smiles a little wider, even wags her tail. "I like it. Maybe this is where we should base ourselves."
"Huh, that's one way of looking at it I suppose," Hakeber says, rubbing one way of her ears. "I figured the only reason anyone stayed here was for the money." She also points out the window, at the passerby, and says, "Nobody really puts down roots here. Nobody starts a family here - you aren't likely to see many children. The work pays well though, and after a few years a steel-worker can go back to wherever he came from with a nice bit of money saved up, and skills that are in high demand. It's.. well, there are some people who stay all their lives, actually."
"That's not so bad. Like you said, there's plenty of manufacturing here, which is good for us. We'll need it, believe me. There's also the Academy, and the ancient hulks. Further, being outside any particular government is good for us, as it lends us a bit more autonomy. Don't get me wrong, Miss Hakeber, I appreciate the PHTO Council a great deal, and I'd consider several of its members to be personal friends of mine, but the tug of politics has caused multinational organizations like ours problems in the past, and we're trying to be proactive about not repeating the mistakes of the past. Like I told Tomorrow's-Hope, I didn't dig up the mission of the Expedition just to fill its grave." She winks, then settles back, folding her hands on the table. "Speaking of which, if you think its safe enough, I have more questions?"
Hakeber looks around, sees nobody paying them particular attention (despite Tasha's odd uniform and wings), and nods. "Okay, ask away. Although I may have to get more drinks," she notes.
"I won't object to drinking!" Tasha barks a laugh, then shakes her head. "My mother ran a pug and drinking and- ... Well, there wasn't as much to keep my attention back then as now. Anyway." Pulling out her datapad again, Tasha does something with it so that it lights up. "Have you ever used an Expedition-era datapad before?"
"I've seen them," Hakeber notes. "But not working ones.. not out here. There's a reason Expedition City didn't become a real city - stuff wears out here, and needs constant maintenance.. and fancy electronics need special care, like at the Museum of History and Technology in New Zion.."
"Hmm, well, that would be a problem for us, but maybe we can do something about that, too. I'll talk to the Captain. Here," Tasha offers the datapad across the table, then stands up and moves to Hakeber's side of the table so she can lean in and show her what to do. "You scroll like this, and pressing this moved down in the data tree, and this one moves up. I locked it to just the data we're discussing. It was made for Vartans, but Karnor hands can use it just fine."
After a bit of fiddling, Hakeber gets the hang of it quickly enough. "What do you have in here?" she asks, having to squint a bit at the display: she didn't bring her reading glasses with her to the bar.
"Let me help you." Reaching over again, Tasha increases the font size. "There. This is where I keep my notes of the Progenitor Cult, Origin Markers, and related material." She reaches over again, scrolling down. "Here are my notes on Adam, Eve, Arhiman, and the Archons. You listed several originator figures, but in the Khattan version, there are instead just Archons mating with the Adam alone. This is interesting because ..," another scroll down, and before Hakeber are a series of odd poems, " ... the mission description suggests Adam has many names but one identity." Curiously, there also a line about 'The Bird of Hermes.'
"I've never seen this before," Hakeber notes, reading the poem and additional notes after each line. She licks her lips, and then sits back and pinches the bridge of her muzzle while looking up at the ceiling fan. "Do you know if that's the whole thing?" she suddenly asks Tasha, gesturing to the tablet. "The poem, I mean?"
"It is complete according to my sources. There are the three, one for each of the Magi and their respective pilots, and one final poem determining their ultimate goal. As I mentioned, I am the Bird of Hermes," Tasha looks at her pad a moment, then adds, "My source also said we are of the same pantheon, we, the Vessels of Hermes. I've been wondering if Hermes is one of the progenitor figures, but I'm puzzled in that it's refering to craft as part of the same pantheon, like they're a set -- but what does that mean for Hermes?"
Looking back, Tasha watches Hakeber a moment, then asks, "Is something wrong, Miss Hakeber?"
"Well, I just.. did you ever check against a roster of ship names from the Expedition?" the scholar asks. "And please don't call me Miss.. I'm no older than you are!"
Tasha smiles. "It's a curtesy, not an age judgement! As I said, I'm usually engaged in formal diplomacy, even when I'm not. It's become habit." Looking back to her pad, Tasha fixes her gaze at the scanner a moment while manipulating it through submenus, which causing the lock to release and allows her to move through the system. After more fiddling, the screen displays 'Finding Uplink' followed by 'Uplink Established,' which in turn shifts to several windows and menus made up of spinning gears. She types in the question about the Hermes and sends it, the machine appearing to process it.
"Results:" appears on the screen. "17 matches out of 1,142 registered names." The matches weren't very promising - almost all of them were shuttle craft, one was a Garuda, another a Gryphon and the final one a cargo vessel. Save two, they were all part of the Terran contingent, with the standouts belonging to the Silent Ones.
Muzzle twisting, Tasha leans in and begins typing with more insistence. It's rather crowded, what with her wings. She enters, 'Search unregistered name; Pantheon of the Magi and Harmonia; Vessels of Hermes.'
"Match found: Caspar," appears, along with a photo of a green and gold Gryphon that looked similar to Melchior in a few ways - it had the same feathered wings, talons and feet, but the tail was long and serpentine, the neck likewise was longer and mounted a rather draconian looking head - closer to a Kiriga than a Naga. It was also a less heavily built looking machine.
Other information next to it lists it as being assigned to the Celestial Empire ship Lucifer.. at least in translation. It may also have been 'Dawn Star' or 'Light Bringer'.
Tasha eyes widen as she gazes at one of the brothers of her own Melchior, the second Magi. "The Lucifer," she breathes in an excited whipser. She quickly saves the data, then enters, 'Last known location of the Lucifer.'
"Contact lost with CES Lucifer on Mission Day 72, in orbit about Sinai while part of the Gerondisanakh convoy group," the tablet reports.
"That's the Celestial Mother Ship that supposedly crashed on Sinai," Hakeber notes.
'No record of planetfall reported by Fleet assets?' Tasha inquires. She glances over after the message is sent and nods. "I learned as much from the records of the Fenris, but best to be sure it's not still in orbit." She looks back at her pad, head slowly shaking. "Nagai. How am I suppose to find Caspar in Nagai? If it's like Rephidim, then the location is likely the Imperial Palace."
"Smaller ships could have crashed anywhere, depending on their trajectories when the systems failed," Hakeber explains. "A mother ship would just plow through the atmosphere, but smaller ones could have generated lift. I imagine if something like Caspar had been recovered, it'd be on display wouldn't it?"
"What's got your tail waggin' so much, Hake?" asks a masculine voice from behind the two women. "And you know you're supposed to toss the small Vartans back, right?"
"That makes sense. If only we had its trajectory, we could determine its whereabouts. As it is, you're right, it could be anywhere. I'm being dense." Tasha balls a fist, thumping it to her head just as the voice calls out. Reflexively, Tasha pushes the datapad screen down, even as she twists to see who it is.
The tallest human Tasha has ever seen looms over both her and Hakeber. He's balding, but otherwise has long white hair and a matching beard, contrasting skin so dark it nearly has blue highlights, and has iron-grey eyes. He also looks like he might have been chiseled out of stone, given the sharpness of his cheekbones and jaw.
"Ah, Walt! Don't sneak up like that," Hakeber says, and gestures to her companion. "This is Tasha, from the Joint Expeditionary Force. Tasha, this is Walt Smith. He's a rocket-jack."
"Oi," Tasha remarks, blinking at the man. When she finallys remembers her datapad, she slides it in to her lap, face down. "You're slice of rock! Nice to meet you," she offers, extending a hand in the Terran greeting.
The man gives a firm shake. "Rocket, not rock," Walt corrects.
"I menat what I said, and you're that too," Tasha insists, grining. "So, what's a rocket-jack? Are you a aerospace engineer?"
"I build and pack rocket motors," the man explains. "You aren't really a Vartan, are you? You've got a nose.."
"That's a fascinating career! I have some interest in them myself, in a different way." Scooting so she can look at the man without straining her neck, Tasha picks up her pad long enough to cut the uplink and turn it off, then glances over and explains, "I'm a half-Vartan. Half Karnor, Half Vartan. I'm a pilot with the JEF, like Miss Hakeber said."
"A pilot? What do you fly?" the man asks, pulling up a chair to sit in backwards. He's got a bottle of something in his hand - beer from the smell of it.
"I'm the pilot of the Melchior, Gryphon, which is a flying Titan. I'm just out of the Pit, where I had been doing scanning runs to locate drill sites for water, but my mission is complete, so I'm on vacation while I wait for my superior to arrive," Tasha explains. "Miss Hakeber and I were just discussing the Expedition Age."
"Didn't know there were working flying Titans," Walt says, and tips his bottle to his lips. "Looking to buy any rockets for it?"
"I don't think so, but the JEF may have use for rockets in other areas, like expendable probes, satelite deploys, and so on. The Captain would know more about that; I'm mostly field work," the red woman replies.
"Wait," Tasha interups, " ... can you make a rocket that will function in high SPF levels?"
"Gotta have rockets for celebrations too," Walt points out, using his bottle to point. "Everyone likes fireworks."
Tasha blinks at this, glancing at Hakeber a moment. "Firewor-" Nora's memories kick in, and she blinks all over again. "Oh. Well. Yes, I suppose celebration is important. I hadn't considered large scale celebrations; the Captain would know."
"Doesn't have to be big, either, just memorable!" the man laughs, then stands up. "And watch out for Hake - she's a charmer," he advises with a wink, before moving off towards the bar.
Tasha watches the man walk off, then turns to Hakeber, rasing her brow. "Oh?"
"I've.. er.. lost a few drinking contests," the scholar claims, waving a hand dismissively. "Just because I've woken up with a few girls before doesn't mean anything; he was just teasing."
Tasha's muzzle splits in to a big grin as she chuckles, which carries on long after she's picked up her datapad. "I know the feeling," she admits, "They never let you forget it -- the men that is -- so now I go along with it. It's more fun that way." She finally gets back to where she was, glancing at her drinking partner, "Do you want to continue?"
"More drinks you say?" Hakeber asks with a grin. "Sure! You want something hard or something soft?"
Tasha puts a hand over her heart, and declares, "As a JEF cadet, I cannot show bias; I and welcome all." She doesn't think she's ever had to struggle so hard to keep a straight face.
This results in Hakeber returning with two beer mugs.. and two shot glasses. "There's a trick to this one," she says. "You drop the shot glass into the mug and then drink it all down in one go!"
Having put her datapad away, Tasha leans forward to examine this new game, tail wagging. "Part of my mission is to explore strange new cultures," she insists. "I'm practically obligated to accept this." She then drops the shot glass in to the mug, then throws it back!
A few minutes later, when her head clears, Tasha sees a plate of small sandwiches that wasn't on the table before, and there are two more people at it - a cheetah wearing what look like medical scrubs and another Karnor, deep black with caramel-colored circles around his eyes. "... and then the pizza oven exploded," the wolf finishes, causing Hakeber to bark out in laughter and the feline to wiggle his ears rapidly.
Tasha squints at the sandwiches, then at the company. When the others laugh, she laughs too. "Oi," she mumbles, shaking her head out. "I must be losing my touch. I blame ... blame ... " her mind pas at the thought until it stops running off. "I blame the decay of popper ... pauper? ... pop-er distellery in the the post-plantet era."
"Hey Tasha, you okay?" Hakeber asks, waving a hand in front of Tasha's face. There are a lot of empty glasses on the table near her, too, she now notices. "Maybe we should call it a night eh? I bet Mittens and.. uh.. Malcolm? Yeah, Malcolm.. Anyway they can help us back to the dorm. Or do you have a place to stay already?"
"Uhhh ... " Tasha squeezes her eyes shut and gives her head a hard shake, " ... No. I was going to but ... then the drinks ... and ... " She just waggles a hand at the array of glass infront of her.
"Yeah, I think you need to.." Hakeber says, but she seems to blur out. The next thing Tasha knows, she's being shaken by the shoulder, and waking up in a very uncomfortable bed. "Miss Tasha?" a voice asks insistently, sounding a bit like.. Toby? "Are you dead?"
She might be a zombie given the groan Tasha lets out. Her eyes snap open, but she seems to immediately regret that, because she quickly covers them with her hands. "Yes," she whispers after several seconds.
It doesn't take long for Tasha to realize she's been sleeping in a metal bathtub, which is likely why her wings ache. "Oh good," Toby says. "I'm sorry I lost track of you after taking that Silent-One home yesterday. You weren't here when I got back, and I had to see about getting a room.. are you alright?"
"I think ... alcohol mugged me ... " With a whimper, she pulls herself up in to a seated position, wrapping her wings around herself to block out the light. "What ... happened?"
"Well.. the Karnor man opened the door for me," Toby explains. "Do you need anything? Like.. an iron?" Tasha's uniform is a bit rumply, likely from sleeping in it. The data pad is a hard lump against her side, still in the pocket she usually keeps it in.
After patting herself over, Tasha pulls her wings apart wide enough to look Toby eye to bloodshot eye, "This is why you shouldn't drink," she explains, adding, "I do this because I'm out of my mind." She drops back in to the tub and heaves a breath before she begins standing. "What time is it? I need to be ready for Gabriel. I-" Whatever she was about to say is broken off by a bout of very actice -- almost frantic -- self sniffing.
She smells like she's been stewing for a bit.. but must have relieved herself at some point before collapsing into the tub, at least. "Do you need to do laundry?" Toby asks, assuming that's what Tasha's sniffing is about.
"Probably ... " Stepping out of the tub, she brushes a hand against Toby's arm and mumbles something about what a good friend he is, before she shuffles out. It doesn't take her long to realizes she has no idea where she is. "I'm going to need some more help."
"The door is over here," Toby notes, pointing to a portal blocked not by a door, but by many, many strings of glass beads. In the right light, it'd be really dazzling.
This isn't the right light though.
Tasha winces at the glare from the beads as if it were some kind of holy symbol and she were a vampire. Pressing on, she walks through the beads and stands outside. "I need ... " Her thoughts run like molasses, so it takes her a moment before she says, "To get read ... My uniform needs to look good and ... oi ... my hair ... maybe a toothbrush and ... Where am I?"
The smell identifies the place, since there isn't much light: back at Hakeber's tiny apartment. Once again, there is a passed out cheetah on the beanbag. The Karnor identified as Malcolm is curled up underneath the coffee table and Hakeber is a position that is the most comically undignified that Tasha has seen - and she's seen plenty. The wolfess has her head on the couch, mouth open and a line of dried drool dangling from it, while her body is bunched up such that she's on her knees, hind end elevated and tail drooping. But she's also still dressed, mostly. Someone's jacked is covering the top of Tasha's gun case.
The red woman exhales in relief, glad at least one concern is over. She rubs at her face, then begins to look around. "I need to get ready," she repeats, this time with more clarity and less groaning. "Hair, uniform, equipment. I need the time. Toby?"
"It only around 9 O'clock, Miss Tasha," Toby notes. "You've got a few hours. Do you want me to take you to the rooms I got?"
"Please." Tasha searches around until she spots her things, then begins collecting them. Soon, she's at the door and ready to go. "I'll handle Hakeber later," she promises.
"Is she in trouble?" Toby asks, holding the door open for Tasha. Luckily, it isn't especially bright in the converted hangar.
"What?" Tasha shuffles out, head shaking. "No ... Wait, what?" Several steps down the hallway, and the pieces come together. "Oh. No. She's coming with us, when we leave the city."
"I'll make a note, Miss," Toby says, and leads Tasha (slowly) to another section of the old mothership. Or rather, another hangar. This one holds a single ship that nearly fills the space, which still has the Expedition nameplate in faux-marble and bronze, just like Bellerophon. This vessel was a bit more slug-shaped, lacking wings, but has the fancy name Boudica.
Despite her state, Tasha pauses long enough to salute the ancient vessel before shuffling on. "I don't remember the Boudica," she admits. "There's so many ships, and so much loss of life, sometimes it's too much."
Toby leads her inside, and even procures a wheeled cart for her heavy belongings. The interior reminds Tasha a bit of the Ajax as well. The room Toby brings her to is more like a hotel room (more Nora memories?) than an apartment. It does have a separate bedroom and sitting room, separated by sliding partitions, and of course a bathroom. No tub, but there's a shower (and a warning plaque to remind people the water isn't suitable for drinking).
Tasha stares at the room from the doorward for a long moment, then asks, "Are you any good at hair styling?"
"Um, you mean... your hair?" Toby asks. "I know how to brush."
"Good enough. You said something about iron?" Without any warning, Tasha begins pulling off her uniform as she heads inside. There's a few hours yet, and she hopes she can make herself look and feel less like death and more like someone who's dearly missed her mate. It'd be a poor surprise welcome to appear disheveled, making her question her priorities as she gets ready.
Toby hurries to collect the pieces of shed uniform, only once guiltily glancing at the odd, high-tech under-suit Tasha wears. By the time Tasha feels alive again, he's back to help with her grooming, and even brings tooth powder. With an hour to spare, the woman's cleaned and pressed uniform is returned.
After carefully getting dressed again, Tasha stands before a mirror with a smile on her face. "The mission: Make TasHa Not a Wreck, is a success. I would give you an award for this, but I'm just a cadet." Turning, Tasha rests a hand on the boy's shoulder, and leans over to give him a kiss. Smiling, she asks, "So, want to go see the Ajax?"
"Alright," the boy says. At some point during Tasha's makeover he must have eaten, because she can smell peanut butter on his breath. "The airfield may be a bit crowded though.."
"If you don't mind the method, I can get us past that easily enough." Turning, Tasha fetches her things and then she's on out the door with Toby as her guide.
"You can? How?" Toby asks, following along and making sure to close the door behind them.
"These wings aren't for show, you know." Tasha pauses as the boy closes the door, taking a moment to open her weapon case, check her bags, and inspect her datapad to make sure everything is ready to go.
"What is THAT!" Toby yelps when the case is opened, pointing to the mini-shaard.
Tasha winces even as she jumps at the shout, looking around until she realizes Toby is pointing her way. "Oh, this is my weapon. It's a smaller, cutomized version of my Titan's weapon." She pulls out one half of the microshaard and offers it to the young man.
"Ugh!" Toby goes, straining under the weight. "It's.. very big for a smaller weapon," he notes. "You aren't going to shoot down the Ajax are you?"
Tasha barks a luagh at that and regrets it, further wondering when she'll ever stop making that mistake. She takes the weapon back and secures it before closing the case. "No, Toby, don't be silly! This is just for my personal defense. We built it with versitility in mind, as the missions and exploration I'm involved in can often put me in dangerous territory. It's primarily defensive, really, but it has enough high-powered ammunition to injure or kill canal creatures." Picking her things back up, Tasha resumes walking. "I almost decided against having it, but after being attacked by both giant vermites and several rotbiters, I now wonder if it's enough!"
"Well.. we don't get monsters here, that I know of," Toby notes. "Most people just have pistols."
"People may be the most dangerous," Tasha admits as they head out. "I'd prefer to be friends with everyone, but I'm not naive enough to believe that's possible. On a larger, political, scale, I think it's preferable to have good relations, and especially so when it comes to the JEF. Time will tell if that's naive, too."
It's probably a good thing that there aren't any flying races regularly visiting Expedition City, as it means few people ever look up and those aren't likely to take potshots at Tasha. There are still lots of wires to avoid, however. The airfield is especially dense with cables and radio towers, and the ground is full of vehicles waiting to secure the descending airship, Ajax. It's also Tasha's first time flying while carrying her shaard, the two halves forming a shield that just barely fits between her wings (and gives her something to bang the back of her head against if she isn't careful). Toby clings on for dear life from the front, not at all embarrassed about trying to hide his entire head in Tasha's cleavage rather than watch the ground go past.
"On Sinai, Eeee have a saying," Tasha says in a loud voice as she talks over the roar of the wind. "Wires! There's no place better than Abaddon for killing yourself on the things!" Despite her comment, she swoops between several rather than avoiding them, angling to put herself in to the clear area above the crowd where she can search for a spot near the front.
A large truck heads out onto the tarmac, opening up a good space to land, if a bit dusty. But everything is dusty! Heavy vehicles with extending crane-arms link up with the airship, mooring it in place. It looks like the big cargo section is going to be lowered down, but another vehicle with a extensible bed goes to the gangway, rising up to accept passengers.
Tasha puts Toby down and hurries to the front with him, dusting herself off as she goes. When she finally arrives she stands there with her tail wagging full tilt, a big smile across her face. "I met the Captain several months ago, back before the JEF was formed, when I was still just an adventurer trying to find my way. We were inseperable until the needs of the JEF required I sortie to the Pit. We've been so busy, we barely have time together anymore," she explains.
Toby doesn't talk.. it's pretty clear he's trying to keep his stomach down after the flight. This close to the debarkation vehicle, though, it's impossible to see who is on the platform until it begins to descend. Off to the side, produce from the Pit is being loaded into the cargo container section of Ajax. When the platform finally finishes lowering, Tasha sees Gabriel, along with two other Karnors: Remiel Caravelli and Neesa, the Dream Mage. "Goodness, Tasha," Captain Akkers says in surprise. "I didn't expect you to meet me right on the tarmac!" He smiles, but then remembers to salute, since both of them are in uniform.
Tasha returns the salute, grinning from ear to ear. "With my mission in the Pit complete, I thought I'd surprise you! It was a big success, by the way!" She carefully folds her hands behind her back, not wanting to slip while in public. "It's nice to see you too, Doctor! And you, Mage Neesa!" She then gestures to the boy beside her. "This is Toby, of the Knights Templar. He's been my guide here. He's a bit green after the flight over, but he really is a good man."
"Sirs and Madam," Toby manages, bowing just enough.
"Well, you look.. well starched, Tasha," Remiel says with a grin. Neesa just returns the slight bow, looking around wide-eyed at all of the industry.
"I don't suppose you've found a steakhouse here?" Gabriel asks Tasha once he's next to her, duffel in hand. "I can't wait to see the Pit.."
"I had a few too many while talking with a scholar -- you know me." Tasha winks, the gestures the group to follow her so they're not in the way of the other passengers. "Not yet, but I did find a tavern, and they have pizza here. The thought of pizza has been driving me nuts even since Nora and I ... " she pauses to glance at Tony, " ... well, you know the story. We have quarters at the local Academy, by the way. Toby? Why don't you lead us, and we'll chat as we go?"