Tasha's mind grew like a tree. Four sturdy roots anchored it to the soil of her brain, while the trunk sprouted upwards towards the light. Although in this case, the sunbeams were information streams. Thought-branches split away from the trunk, growing leaves to catch the data.
One branch stretched into the past to absorb information about the Fleet. Tasha saw it from Harmonia's viewpoint as it spread out after arrival; hundreds of vessels, some the size of cities and other as small as outhouses. Probes and mobile observation posts were injected into orbit around Sinai by the various participants: small automated pods from the Terrans and Celestial Empire, and giant Titan-shaped stations from the Silent-Ones. This was repeated around Ashtoreth and Abaddon, the other two 'habitable' planets that showed signs of life.
The primary Confederate mother ship, Hijra took up orbit around Sinai, along with the Ark, Manat and Gerondisanakh. Around Ashtoreth, Sutaranakh and Al-Qaum - one of the few official ships (besides Manat) of the Khattan Trade Coalition - orbited on opposite sides of the ocean world. Adoniranakh, Excelsior, Star's-Stride and their retinues (including Orpheus) took their places around Abaddon.
In compressed time, the first year passes quickly as the fleet settles in. Of interest are the assembly of a large structures in orbit around Abaddon, which are then towed towards the outer system. These are tagged as sections of the gateway needed to return the fleet to known space.
Another branch buds away, tracing the nature of the gateways. To reach the Sinai system, the Zion gateway was used (at great energy expense) to send a special vehicle - a gateship - through warped space. The gateship was made to stabilize the wormhole 'in flight' and to serve as the destination anchor. However, the gateship only allows for one-way travel from the origin gateway to the anchor-gate of the ship itself, lacking the capacity to open a gate back on its own. One the gateship reaches the target star system, the components for a permanent gateway are sent through after it, and then added to the gateship to convert it into a return-capable system.
Suddenly, chaos seems to spread through the fleet. The ships around Sinai descend into the atmosphere to make forced landings. There is fighting in the space around Ashtoreth and Abaddon, and the great ships go down there as well. This widespread event is given a name: The Cannan Mutiny.
Another branch grows. Henry Cannan was a highly ranked engineering officer within the Terran contingent, positioned on the Ark itself. In secret, he formed a cabal among officers of the fleet mother ships. The survivors of the cabal claim that Cannan had convinced them that the Expedition was doomed, and its presence would set in motion the end of the participating civilizations. The relatively small group managed to mutiny and overthrow the bridge crews, attempting to 'scuttle' the mother ships. The modified gateship was still incomplete at the time.
Many of the mutineers commandeered smaller craft, and made for the gateship. The military forces of the Expedition gave chase, destroying all but one of the ships. Henry Cannan made it to the gateship, and used the available power reserves to send it back to the Zion gateway - thus removing the only means of returning for the rest of the fleet. Another gateship was expected, but never came, leading to speculation that the main gateway in orbit around Zion had been destroyed by the return of the gateship.
The Expedition fragmented in the aftermath, with the various factions now competing for resources on Abaddon. All contact with Ashtoreth and Sinai was gone, and it was not even clear which ships had gone down with the mother ships and which had been destroyed in the fighting. Accusations flew between the groups, and the Terrans and Silent-Ones in particular where targeted for reprisals, which had the effect of reinforcing their alliance for a time, until the life domes were finished.
The leaves of another branch of the mind-tree soak up what Harmonia has observed on Abaddon. The spread of civilization from the grounded ships is seen in compressed time. Star City rising from the hulk of Star's-Stride, New Zion from Exelsior, the Confederation Life Dome from Marduk and Imperial City from Adoniranakh. And the wars, seemingly endless and repetitive. It really was a bit like watching insects. And then the Pit of Himar appeared, sending all of Harmonia's instruments into fits, and triggering another war to secure the site. The Forbidden Zones (and there were several) began to expand and become more active soon after - but they didn't appear out of nowhere. The area of the Gateway Tower, near the small Kampfzengruppe Life Dome as well as other volcanic regions had always produces anomalous readings.
A much smaller branch of Tasha's awareness watched through Harmonia's eyes - both internal and external - but despite the amount of data available, it demanded little attention. Even the hangar bay, where Melchior stood while Hakeber rode a crane-mounted basket around him to make note of every little detail seemed little more than a still life, changing at glacial pace.
But it did serve to bring home something that Tasha's accelerated mind could not ignore: she would have to carefully select which information she was actually going to remember from all of this. Unlike the Persocom system, Harmonia's interface did not provide the neurochemicals needed to store all of the data as memories. Some would have to be offloaded into external memory storage, such as her datapad.
As Tasha's mind -- and that of the system -- sorts the information retrieved by order of importance, agaian and again until the information becomes downloadable, another part of her virtualizes her own existence as a person, to help her understand what she has experienced in a way she would comprehend later. Emotion has been offloaded to this duplicate, as well, seperating her machine expanded mind. Even were emotion to participate, without the machinery of her own mind matching that of Harmonia's, it could not keep up.
In nanoseconds, the information is proceesed, but to Tasha the effort seems to take exactly as much time is needed. In the machine, time is what she needs it to be, with the only limits being those of processing speed and terminal decay of the system. She had promised Hakeber her attention, if needed, even with the Melchior's interface she hadn't anticipated what it would be like. That, too, should be remembered.
As the download begins, Tasha executes one final series events: several copies of her mind assist, and her virtualized existence within the machine formulates a proper thank you, full of appreciation and love, as Tasha would have said it -- but this time, Harmonia can see how her mind works, and that's important too. The thank you concludes with a message to respond to the awakened Tasha, so she can remember.
The moving clockwork walls of the bridge spin and ratchet for some time before Tasha realizes she's looking out through her own eyes again. Time moves at a constant pace once more, marked by the beating of her heart and ticking of the giant clock hands on the walls. While she can't recall all of the details, she does retain the overall sense of her machine-aided experience - and the brief loss and feeling of being crowded inside her own skull, as the last vestiges of multiple strands of awareness settle down. And then, finally, she breathes again.
Even aware of herself as a mortal woman again, Tasha can't help but keep staring forward -- staring at the clockwork wall, beyond which the world of machines exists. As her emotions settle, she realizes how beautiful it all was -- orderly, dependable, aware. It makes her mortal body feel rather crude by comparison, and for a fleeting moment she wonders why machines bow their heads to mortals at all. But, before the thought can settle, Tasha's emotions remind her there's no heart to that world, there's no love, nor the chaotic pull they bring. She reaches up, rubbing her head as she tries to work out the complex life question this epiphany urges, but she can't sort it out it out in her clunky, overloaded brain. So instead, she just takes a deep breath and sinks in to the command chair, exhaling.
There's a slight tug at the back of her head, and then the interface arm is folding back into the chair. "You do not appear to have suffered any ill effects from the virtualization," Harmonia reports, sounding her usual cheery self.
"I think only my ego suffered, and now I'll be pondering what this all means for weeks or years or ... the rest of my life." Sprawling out a bit, Tasha decides to rest a moment before getting up, leaving her mind time to settle. She has enough experience with the PersoCom system back on Bellerophon to know she shouldn't force understanding or try to think of anything too complex, because she won't remember it later. Her processing queue is full. "That was very enlightening, Harmonia. Thank you for letting me share your mind with you. I hope you also found the experience enjoyable?"
"It was informative to see how your mind branched as it explored the data space," Harmonia replies. "From external observation, humanoid minds appear to follow linear paths. This may be an illusion, and it is merely the primary conscious focus that does this, while other elements are processed by sub-conscious threads."
"That's a very insightful look at the experience. I would also add that people are not self-contained, and that, too, is an illusion. Through interaction -- data excahnge -- we are also connected and a part of our world, as it is a part of ourself. In a sense, I am you, and you are me. In a great sense, we are the world, and it is us, and it's all the same ... Data exchanged between internal systems, or external ones, it's all the same data. I think the only seperation that truly exists is where one self-perpetuating system creates walls to define itself, either intentionally, or as a product of its life -- a bit like a firewall, only in many shapes and sizes." Tasha suggests.
"That is similar to super-organism and social-sourcing theory," Harmonia notes. "Both are effective in predicting the behavior of groups."
"We'll see if I'm any good at predicting anything soon enough, I'm sure." Sitting up, Tasha stretches her arms high abover her head, and her wings follows. "Whew! I'm exhausted. I'd better stop talking about existence before my brain locks up and we need to call an organic engineer!" She laughs as she stands, then walks over to Harmonia's avatar and holds her arms out, "I'm sorry I'm such a limited being, that I can only share your world for a second or two. Give your poor, meaty mother a hug before she returns to the hangar to rest a while."
The clockwork Vartan gives Tasha an embrace - and thoughtfully stills the gears at points of contact to avoid any unwanted pinching or clothing tangles.
Tasha hugs back, then shifts to the tip of her hooves to kiss the clockwork avatar on the head, just like her mother used to do with her.
"We'll share more time together in the future!" Tasha promises as she steps back and walks towards the exit with Harmonia. "Right now, I'm sure Miss Hakeber has questions if she hasn't bled to death or dehydrated from the shock of everything. I never knew new scholars could be so fragile!"
Back in the hangar, Hakeber startles slightly when Tasha returns, but doesn't fall out of her 'basket' at least. "Oh, it's you! I thought it was going to be they freaky robot," she says. "Weren't you going to be doing something though? You said you'd be gone awhile, and it's only been.." The Karnor woman flips open her pocket watch, and finishes with, "23 minutes."
"Please don't call Harmonia 'that freaky robot'," Tasha admonishes in what she'd have realized is her mother's disapproving tone, if she had the presence of mind to realize it. She eyes the young scholar a moment, for good measure, also a Vartan mother favorite -- it drives home a sense predation.
"Are you okay?" Hakeber asks, suddenly nervous. "I haven't left the hangar, just as you asked. And.. well, I haven't been able to find the maker's mark on Melchior yet. Every Titan should have one, along with other identifying marks. They aren't exactly mass-produced, so it's important information to repair techs.."
"I just would appreciate if you refered to Harmonia with respect and courtesy. You are a guest here, as am I, and it's rude to speak poorly of the being you currently occupy. Beyond that, she's my daughter." Shaking her head, Tasha steps forward, then breaks into a run so she can take to the air and circle Hakeber and her Titan. "I was communing with the ship," she calls down, glad to stretch her wings. "Spending time with her, to help her understand people." After the third circle, she lands on the Melchior's right shoulder, and asks, "Did you find anything at all?"
"Nothing," Hakeber notes. "Which is really weird. The designer always signs his work with these things. But from what you'd told me, the Magi Class is just three machines, all made at the same time for the same purpose but with slightly different designs. But there's just nothing on record about where they were made or by whom, beyond that you're pretty sure they were all built by the Khattan Trade Coalition."
"I'm not too surprised by this," Tasha comments, head cocking to the side. "Thusfar, Fleet records have offered next to nothing about the Magi, and it was only when I consulted with Harmonia that I was able to get any solid information. We both know they were designed by the Khattans, but given current evidence, there doesn't seem to be a Khattan machine among them -- which I find to be very odd. You'ld think the Khattans would lead this venture in their own Magi, but there doesn't seem to be any indication they're even involved. It's as if they just ... left these mysterious machines here on the off chance their prophecy completes. They may not even be Khattan machines, for all we know -- maybe they found First Ones machines and built a frame and interface over what was still usable?"
"Well, from what I've read, the Khattans are a very conservative, low-risk people," Hakeber says. "It would not surprise me at all that they'd hire others for something like this, especially if it's meant to be secret. That way if something goes wrong, they can deny their involvement. It could be that the goal of the mission wasn't about gaining power or something of direct benefit only to those carrying it out. Or.. well, they may have something of their own after all, and it's just more secret than the Magi where."
"If all goes well, we'll know sooner or later. I'd just prefer to know before it dives out of the sky at me," Tasha says with a lopsided grin. Dropping back, she folds her arms under head head and stares at the ceiling, thinking. "It's perfectly possible the designers of this project are still alive, as at least one 'probe' exists to await the success or failure of the 'Expedition Mission,' and clearly the planetfall and deterioration of the main mission wasn't the breaking point. Besides that, I found the Melchior alone, in shielding wrap, with its necessary components stored nearby as if they had been left for someone -- everything else had been rotted or gone. I wouldn't be surprised that if we find the Caspar, it's gear will also be nearby -- or it's pilot."
"After 6000 years?" Hakeber asks. "And Caspar is on Sinai somewhere, supposedly. That probably was a lot harsher landing than Orpheus had. But.. who knows? Melchior's pilot was reassigned to another post, right? I doubt we'd be able to verify the locations of the other pilots.. since we don't know who they were."
"Through the use of stasis technologies, I could also step out of time and emerge as I am now, six thousand years in the future. The Khattan Trade Coalition possessed the greatest technologies of their age, and even the Terrans, one of the youngest space fairing species, had the ability to prolong life for thousands of years. The designer could even be a machine, waiting in a world where time is what's efficent for you. Everything we see here, all that was left behind, most of it wasn't state of the art. For them, all that's happened may rest in the blink of their eye." Rubbing at her forehead, Tasha remembers the virtual world, and the stasis system, where even time could be reshaped.
"As for Caspar, what I mean is, if now os the time of their prophecy, then I amy not be the only person to stumble over a machine and become its pilot. There are two other poems besides mine, and each lists the nature and path of pilot and machine. Another alternative is that they're all meant for one pilot, and that I must follow all three. Finally, they may be in ruins, which means I must reinterpret the mission poetry and try to take charge of their Markers."
"Yeah, finding the Markers is probably more important than the machines," Hakeber notes, and then shrugs. "But then, I'm not too clear one what role the Magi actually play in all this. Could be symbolic or practical or.. who knows? Someone seemed awfully certain that things needed to be done here."
"How do you mean?" Tasha asks, sitting up enough to peer down at the other woman.
"Well, I don't know what the poems are really saying, but maybe the Titans aren't actually required, just the Markers," Hakeber suggests. "It just.. well, if this is stuff that was set up tens or hundreds of thousands of years ago, there's no way the Progenitors could predict that giant armored suits would be around."
"That's a good point. The Magi may have some other function, perhaps? The Melchior has a hidden program path that requests the Marker, so it's clear that something must happen if I bring the Marker to my Titan. What that is ... I haven't any idea. It may be the Markers are, in themselves, data storage devices not meant for mortal minds, and the machines interpret them, or, well ... who knows? If we can find the Origin Marker of Vartans, I'll initiate contact test and see what we can find." Pushing herself all the way up, Tasha brushes her hair from her face and asks, "Did you need to inspect me, as well? Any other insights or questions?"
"Hey, maybe you're right about the Markers holding data," Hakeber says, lowering the basket to the ground. "I mean.. how else would anyone have come up with as much about the Progenitors as they have? And why leave them in the first place?" The scholar exchanges notebooks from the pile she has (and pile is the word, as she just dumped out her supplies from a sack when they landed). "I should have brought a camera," she mutters, then finds the book she's looking for, and a pencil. "Okay! Let's see your tattoos and implants."
"I'll have to issue you your own datapad," Tasha says with a laugh, before rising and glididng to the deck. She begins to remove her uniform, conversing as she does. "In communing with Harmonia and accessing past records, there was one thing that bothered me, though. I'm not sure if it's relevant, at least not to the Magi -- its historical value is immense if it was forgotten. Have you ever heard of ... Henry Canaan?"
"Oh yeah, the Mutiny?" Hakeber says, watching closely. "We learn that in grade-school. "He's the biggest villain in history, from the Expedition's standpoint."
"I can see why, but what bothers me is, what was he so afraid of? It's not the first time I've heard of that fear -- that somehow being here is a danger to all participating species, even to all sentient life. But, why? Is it just the ramblings of the over-cautious as they tempt the unknown, or something more?" Uniform off, Tasha runs a finger down the front of her undersuit and steps out of that, as well. "They believed their fear enough to doom their fellows, and themselves as well. Henry Canaan sacrificed himself." Tasha spreads her wings, arms, and legs so that there's room to examine. "They start at the spine," she suggests.
"That undersuit is pretty neat, can I try it on later?" Hakeber asks, as she comes up behind Tasha, and starts rifling through the short fluff that's regrown around the tattoo marks. "Can you feel it if I touch the mark?" she asks, and pokes the small of Tasha's back, just above her tail. And the Vartan does feel it, pressure-wise at least.
"I can feel you pressing against my skin," Tasha reports, glancing back. She's wonders at the fact she didn't have a single lewd thought in this process, at least until now. Still mortal, she decides, laughing on the inside. "As for the suit, they're specially fitted to their wearer, so you'ld have to join the JEF to get one."
"Tempting," the Karnor says, and tries rubbing the tattoo line where is travels over the top of Tasha's rump to run along her leg. "Do you feel that?" she asks.
It does tingle a bit..
"It ... " Tasha twists her muzzle, trying to get a better sense of it. "It tingles. Very faintly."
"Hmmm, hold on.." Hakeber says, and then there's a good bit of rubbing. "Aha! They light up if you stimulate them enough, did you know that? Much easier to see the pattern now.."
Tasha struggles to maintain a straight face, staring forward. "I didn't know that," she admits, very carefully. "But I do know they produce their own power through biological process, when needed, and it makes sense they'd respond to electricial charges -- including ones caused by friction."
The scholar has moved lower already, rubbing along the path down Tasha's left leg. "Okay, I can see the individual lines now," she notes. "There are circles at the ends.. oh, that must be a conductive loop, to pick up signals from the muscle. You don't have any on your butt, but several spots along the leg. Doesn't reach all the way to your hoof though.. but I guess those aren't very sensitive anyway, right?"
"I'd say 'no,' but then I've never had feet," Tasha replies, glancing back again and grinning.
Hakeber writes down the locations of the sensor loops, then stands up and checks Tasha's shoulders, tracing the lines to her wings. "It's really simple when you think about it.. electrodes embedded into the skin. I wonder if they'll be grown over in time though?"
"I'm not sure. That would still leave the nodes on my head, and the wires in my brain, unless those, too, can decay. There's also whatever 'software' they loaded, if any," Tasha answers. She straightens her wings to make the inspection easier, adding, "To backtrack to Canaan, his fear does suggest one other use for the Magi: as defensive systems. Defense systems against what and how, I have no idea. I can't imagine three Titans doing much of anything to stop a Progenitor, but then I don't understand the Khattan's plan fully, either."
Tasha pauses, then adds, "I hope they don't decay," in a quieter voice.
"Well.. that brings up the notion that whatever they're meant to find, they're also meant to destroy.. or at least have the option," Hakeber says, and then starts sifting through Tasha's hair to find the paths hidden beneath that lead to the studs. "Hmmm, they split up evenly between the studs.. upper body limbs to upper studs, lower to bottom studs."
"I'd hate to think all of this is here to make me a destroyer," Tasha admits, trying to keep her head otherwise still. "Is the split significant? The patterns?"
"I think you need to worry about breaking the line of the tattoos, so.. don't get cut or stabbed or anything along them," Hakeber says, then comes around to check Tasha's front. She runs her clawtips through the fur of Tasha's abdomen searching for tattoo lines. "Probably signifies which studs map to which areas of the brain," Hakeber notes, and lifts Tasha's breasts to check under those as well. "Although.. maybe not. I'm pretty sure the muscle homunculus is inverted on the surface of the brain.. unless it's not in Vartans. Maybe that means you've got a Vartan brain?"
Looking down, Tasha blinks at the notion. "Well, I do have other Vartan parts, so that would make sense. And I'm trying very hard not to be maimed, but it's really a full-time job some times."
"Huh," Hakeber says, then kneels down to check out something non-tattoo related. "Hey, that's Vartan too I guess!" she notes, tail wagging. "At least, I think it is. I mean, I've never had another Vartan woman to compare to! You're pretty interesting, Tasha."
Being thankfully red, Tasha can mostly be sure she ins't showing her blushing. She looks up towards the ceiling, trying very hard not to burst in to laughter. When she can finally manage to speak without losing it, she asks, "Another Vartan woman?"
"Well, I don't run into many Vartans at the Academy," Hakeber says as she stands back up. "So, wanna check me out to see what's different?" she asks, waggling her eyebrows.
Tasha bites her lip as she stares down at Hakeber, taking a deep, deep breath. "I'm really trying to be good," she insists. "But it's very tempting. I've never gotten along with other women before, but I like you! And you're so cute and-" Deep, deep breath. Eyes closed. "We- ... we should head back now."
"Well.. you could always ask your big hunky boyfriend if he'd like an extra," the scholar says with a wink, then stands back and makes a few more notes. "You're cute and exotic," she notes.
"Oh, he might ... He may be from a different era, but he's still a man ... " With great effort, Tasha turns back to her undersuit and begins to get dressed.
"I like you, too," she remarks.
"What else is up here?" Hakeber asks. "There aren't any windows, like on an airship. And you'll be careful flying this time, right? Unless there's a way for two people to sit in that chair-thing.."
"There's not much else here, at this altitude. Harmonia is a fully automated surveylance vessel, so the amentities for someone who can't interface with the ship are minimal." Tasha scratches at an ear, more to distract herself from thoughts of Hakeber than because she needs to. "Umm ... Oh, there's the bin full of compressed space-time."
"A bin?" Hakeber asks, wide-eyed. "Shouldn't that be on a shelf or pedestal or in a warp-drive engine or something?"
Tasha blinks, hand falling. "Oh. I suppose I shouldn't introduce compressed space-time in such a banal manner ... I was just a distrac- ... I mean I'll show you!" Tasha begins walking quite suddenly, waving Hakeber to follow. It's not all that far away, as the bin was moved to one of the first empty rooms, for safe keeping, analysis, and isolation.
"They kind of look like crystallized beer dipped in oil, if your beer reflected a seemingly random glimpse in to another space time and behaved like quantum particles," Tasha explains.
"Should they be touching each other like that?" Hakeber asks. "They don't.. reach critical mass or anything, right?" She clearly wants to touch one.. but isn't also clearly not going to. "Where'd it come from?"
"Considering they were all touching before they were broken, I think it's safe. Probably? Dr. Zreachiel would know, but Harmonia said they seemed safe enough." Stepping forward, Tasha jumps in to the air to grab the lip of the bin, pulling herself up with her arms so she can yank a small piece out of the pile before droppping down again. This she holds up to the light, staring at it with a transfixed, revenent gaze for several seconds before continuing like nothing happened. "Oh, it's from the shell of a creature that may have been from another planet, or even another space-time. We're still analyzing them to establish their properties and manufactory boons."
"It's.. part of a creature?" Hakeber asks, looking skeptical. "How is that even possible? You say it's condensed spacetime after all.."
Tasha offers the crystal for her to take, pulling out her datapad with the other. As she waits for Hakeber to free up her hands so she can manipulate the tool, she says, "It's true. The original creature was roughly as large as the Pit, surrounded by many smaller creatures about the size of Melchior. They appear to be intruding from another position through a space-time rift -- a Forbidden Zone -- in a volcanic region near where I located Harmonia."
"A giant space turtle?" Hakeber asks, staring into the odd crystal and its altered images. "Seems like there should have been elephants on its back then.." she mutters, blinking at whatever she sees in the toporgic.
"We're a little concerned they may venture farther, and that they're doing something, but test results show they may be controllable," Tasha says as she looks down at her pad, manipulating it. After a moment she turns it around so Hakeber can see. "It's not a turtle. This is the image first recorded by the Melchior as we approached."
"It's.." Hakeber says, eyeing the monster with a bit of dread. "It.. looks like a cowflop made of glass, to be honest. Is that a giant snail it's.. uh.. eating?"
"It seems to be, but it's not like any snail I've ever seen. The small ones appear to be non-sentient, but the large one may have once been sentient -- it's impossible to know, as not even Harmonia could make sense of its transmissions. We think it may have reacted to Harmonia's lack of compliance with its projected commands, but we'll never know. At the very least, its remains will provide for research insights," Tasha explains.
"So it crashed and broke up then?" Hakeber asks, tearing her eyes away from the image. "I hope there wasn't anything important under it!"
"Something like that," Tasha says with a nod, feeling it's best not to enforce Harmonia's guilt. "They landing zone was a lava field, and thankfully far from civilization. We're uncertain how toxic its remains are, so the area would have been quarantined regardless." Tilting her head to gaze in to the crystal, Tasha purses her muzzle, and says, "Did you know Henry Canaan was on the Ark? An engineer ... That's also where the Harbinger Clan was stationed, and with them the Origin Marker of Vartans and, presumably, the Melchior's original pilot. I wonder what he found?"
"Humans and Vartans weren't known to mingle at the time," Hakeber claims, but looks thoughtful. "Still.. no idea why the Vartans would have been transferred there. It could have been political."
"Maybe. I would love to have access to the Ark's records -- maybe even to the records of Henry Canaan himself. I have a feeling that whatever the poems set me to do, that Henry Canaan is connected to them. Unfortunately, getting the records will be a problem." Running a hand back through her hair, Tasha shakes her head. "I'll have to return to Rephidim sooner or later, that's inevitable. But, that will mean dealing with the Temple, and my mother, as well. The Temple has never been particularly understanding of the collection of artifacts not sanctioned by themselves, and there's bad blood between it and the other major nations, from the Coalition War. On top of that, they've become a theocracy-technocracy under the worship of the First Ones, but mostly, it's about power."
"Who leads it, a bureaucracy?" Hakeber asks.. and something in her voice hints this is a particularly interesting subject to her.
Gesturing the other woman to have a seat, Tasha settles cross-legged on the floor, laying the datapad in her lap. "The Captain-Astromancer leads, he's a human with brown hair and light skin -- I saw him once during Landing Day speech. Beneath him is something called 'The Bridge,' but I don't know much about them other than they seem to be important figures. And, beneath them is a bureaucracy. There's also 'Technopriests,' but I've only ever seen them at a distance. As the name implies, they seem to worship technology. And, let me think ... I never dealth with the Temple higher ups personally, I mostly just saw the guard and tax collectors ... But if I remember right, there's the Guard, there used to be the Knights Templar, there's the tax collection group, the Technopriests, and of course the Inquisition, who can forget them?"
"It sounds mysterious and dramatic," Hakeber says. "Probably full of secrets and cabals, too. Do they allow Abaddonians inside?"
"It always seemed that way to me, but also frightening. Most people on the dock wouldn't admit it when they were alone, but everyone feared the Temple. The Temple was usually a boogyman behind everyone's life, a dragon to be kept fed so it doesn't wake up and eat you. Most of us were too small for it to really take notice of, but we all were afraid -- and most of us knew where to draw the line to avoid going too far and getting the Temple's attention." Taking a breath, Tasha rolls her head and thinks back. Her life on Rephidim feels like ages ago, even if it's only been a few months, at most. When she looks back again, she says, "Oh, they weren't all bad. The Guard were friendly when they weren't after someone, and a lot of them were just regular people. It's the higher ups we all feared, the nobles, the leaders, and especially the Inquisition. But, do they allow Abaddonians inside? I'm honestly not sure. I'm very tempted to claim to be a Abaddonian myself, when we visit the Temple."
"They must have a library though," Hakeber says. "Don't you know anyone who's dealt with the Temple in a ... non-scary way?"
"Maybe Captain Eyeshine, he'd have had to pay docking fees and airship registration. That wasn't a part of running the ship I was involved in. But as for others ... " Tasha stares down at her datapad, thinking. Her life had always been too small-time for direct dealings with the Temple, with the various airship captains being the most influence people she knew, and thus most likely to know Temple representatives. Thinking ahead, she realizes there may be one more figure. "Aaron Lightfoot, the Lapi man you met? He has a business in the Scholar's Quarter, so he may have had dealings with them. Besides that, I usually stayed as far from the Temple as possible -- half because I just wasn't important enough."
"The floppy man?" Hakeber asks. "So that's his name? He just sort of curled up at the foot of my bed and drooled in his sleep last night.."
"Poor Aaron, he was injured during the attack on the dam and has been heavily sedated since. I'll probably take him back home when we depart to Sinai, preferably before he realizes the people here eat rabbit." Tasha just shakes her head. /That/ would be an uncomfortable conversation! "But, maybe he'll be willing to help us still, if he isn't sick of me putting him in danger. I think our best bet will be to ask for an official PHTO Council ambassadorial/exploration recognition so we can approach the Temple on more equal footing. Given that the Khattans and Kampfengruppe control Gateway, the Temple may welcome having better ties with its planetary neighbors without those two groups looking over their shoulders. I think I'll also enlist myself as an Abaddonian, for residence and origin. It's better that way."
"I don't think that there's a registration for that," Hakeber notes. "I know as Templars we have special badges, but.. you could always tell what group someone belonged to by their species. At least, before the Gateway and the Pit of Himar altered things. I don't know how citizenship works on Sinai, with everyone all mixed together. But I'm sure the tax-collectors would know."
"I never paid taxes. Actually, I just a nobody before my life changed. Before I started this journey, I was First Drover on a small trade airship. I know I stand out physically, but otherwise I could have been anyone. And the truth is, I'm a very different person than I used to be. I'm afraid the people I used to know won't accept it, and that the Temple may take advantage if they realize my family is on Rephidim. It's just very ... " Tasha takes a deep breath, exhaling with an air of anxieity. " ... Very nerve wracking."
"Wow, hadn't thought of that," Hakeber says. "Templars .. the Knights, not everyday people like me.. would take on new names and stuff to protect any kin they had back home, although they pretty much broke all family ties too."
"My mother would never forgive me if I abandoned her. She was nearly set against my leaving in the first place, and she doesn't understand what I'm doing, or really, what's going on. How do you explain the history of the Fleet, technology, piloting Titans ... to someone who's spent their whole life either on a dock or a ship, without education, or any real technological exposure? I'm terrified I'll see my mother again and we won't understand each other -- that she'll think Gabriel did something to me, or that I'm not even her daughter. And even if that were so, the Temple may still use her -- she might let them to 'get her Tasha back.'" Tasha reaches up to rub her face, head shaking. "I don't even sound like me. I barely recognize myself. The Temple didn't maintain their power by being fools. Maybe I should take a new name? But then, a lot of people know who I am here."
"Here isn't Sinai though," Hakeber notes. "But then, we don't know that you'll be dealing with the Temple directly to get information - like you said, the Guards and such are regular people. And I assume by that they are accessible outside of the Temple itself, where you can talk to them."
Tasha looks up suddenly, blinking. "Oi, that's brilliant! We don't have to talk to them directly! Whew!" She sits up, grinning. "And there I was expecting it to be a formal affair, to avoid hurting their national ego. But we're not a nation, we're a multinationally-sponsored exploratory group. In addition, we have our patron's protection! The Temple won't dare try something that undershanded -- at least not openly -- if they fear offending an entire planet. While the greater national leaders may not exactly like us -- I don't know yet -- I can't imagine they'll approve of another nation kidnapping family members of their organizations. Pride, right?"
"Besides, I know how to loosen lips," Hakeber says, raising her chin. "I got info out of the Kampf, after all. I'm sure something as big as the Temple will be easier."
"Does that mean you wnat to come with us?" Tasha asks, grinning all the more.
"Try to stop me!" Hakeber claims. "I want to see Sinai!"
Tasha barks a laugh, leaning back. "Who am I to deny exploration? Of course you can come!" Smiling, Tasha settles back and explains, "I'll just add you to the list, and you'll get need to pack appropriately. As you may have heard, very little technology functions on Sinai, so it's best to leave behind anything more complex than simple mechanics. Dressing warm should be easy for an Abaddonian, as we'll be traveling by airship. As for departure time, I believe we'll be leaving after our report to the PHTO Council, barring any major problems."
"So long as ink still flows and paper doesn't spontaneously combust, I'll be fine," Hakeber notes, crossing her arms. "And there will be booze right?"
"Oh, lots! Since I won't be piloting and we'll be spending long, slow flights together, there's little reason not to drink! And of course, our alchohol is better -- we have more flora!" Tasha throws her hands wide. "It'll be fun! Of course, it'll also be dangerous. Not Abaddonian dangerous, but still, dangerous. We'll be traveling with a lot of irreplaceable people and some supplies, so we'll probably need to think about a few guards, which will probably include me. And, that reminds me -- when you're not busy, could you meet with your Temple contacts and request a bodyguard for Gabriel? Maybe ask about a few members joining us on our trip? This'll give them a chance to see Sinai and meet with other Templars, too."
"Okay.. but what sort of bodyguards would be appropriate?" Hakeber asks. "Vartans? Karnors? Silent-Ones?"
"Oh, that question again. Hrrm." Tasha plants her head on her right hand, twisting her muzzle. "Normally I'd answer a situation like this by addressing the group and seeing who volunteers, or being equitable across species, but the Knights always arrange themselves by species, and that means nation, even if it's not supposed to. I don't suppose the Knights have anyone who's a warrior and a scholar? An ... ambassador-Knight?"
"Well.. not quite like that, no," Hakeber says, looking thoughtful. "At least, not that I can think of. There are warrior-scholars, and warrior-priests among the various nations but I'm not sure about within the Templars. I'll have to ask around."
"See what you can do. Gabriel's from another world, and I sometimes wonder if he and Eli are too trusting. Eli doesn't even lock his door!" Tasha just shakes her head. "Me, I grew up with petty violence and crime, so I may be overconcerned, but better safe than sorry, right? I'll probably bring my own weapon, too, just to be safe."
"What about bunny-man?" Hakeber thinks to ask. "Does he know what to pick? He sure has a lot of scars."
"He knows Sinai very well, but he's as new to Abaddonian politics as I am -- never, in fact. We could also consider brining a variety of regular soldiers picked by the PHTO, some from each group, but I fear that would make us seem too militant. If we used recruits, I'd be uneasy having them as our shield." Tasha tilts her head, then shakes it. "You know, sometimes the hardest part of exploration is the politics."
"The bigger the group, the more you're likely to attract the wrong kind of attention too," Hakeber says. "How many bodyguards did you have getting here?"
"Well, there was the three Karnor Elite, myself, and four of the Lapi people. Of that group, three of uc could fight, and none were soldiers. Hmm." Tasha tilts her head the other way, twisting her muzzle and then nodding. "You may be right, and that we don't need many people. It will make traveling cheaper and much simpler logistics wise, too. Maybe we'll just aim for being a small group, five people maximum. If we include us and Gabriel, that leaves room for two more, one of which will probably be Aaron, unless he decides to split off or not join us the entire journey. If I practice, I should be able to hold my own with the equipment we have. Gabriel may also be able to fight, and the last person we'll have to work out. I may just be overprotective, but we've come so far, abd everyone means so much, losing just one person is more than I can bear to think about."
"To be honest, a part of me would rather go alone. This is my mission, after all, and I don't even know if this is all worth our time. I admit, it feels a bit selfish, but at the same time, I can't say it is because if I'm right this would be a major discovery and a major problem," Tasha admits.
"So long as none of us look obviously meant to be a bodyguard," Hakeber says, then stands up and stretches. "Gah, I can't sit on the floor like that for so long."
Tasha follows, rising and putting her datapad away. "Are you feeling like you'ld like to return to Earth?" She blinks, then squeezes her eyes shut. "I mean Abaddon."
"I hadn't realized we'd left it?" Hakeber asks. "How high up is this airship, anyway?"
Tasha opens her eyes, then grins a little, holding her hands out. "Why, we're the gateway to heaven!"
"Hmmm," Hakeber says, giving Tasha a look. She glances at the bit of toporgic, back to the Melchior, and then at the hangar in general. "Somehow I expected there'd be less sobriety involved if that were the case," she notes with a grin. "Plus, I'm getting hungry. And at least back down in hell there are sandwich shops and toilets!"
"Unfortunately all our ... everything is usually made up of programmable matter, which I'm fairly sure is inedible." Tasha plucks the crystal from her guest's hands, then hops up to return it to its bin. Dusting her hands off, she begins for the door. "Lets return, then. And remember, no telling anyone about this place! Not that they'd believe you, although Vartans may call you religious." Smiling, Tasha leads Hakeber back to her machine.