After the council meeting, Tasha and Gabriel met up with Aaron and Hakeber for some drinks - only this time they went to a place the Lapi knew of, which was considerably more upscale (and even served mixed drinks, which made Hakeber happy). The scholar even offered to contact the local Knights to see about sword training.
Most of the talking was done by Aaron and Tasha describing the Elamoore they remember from before the Boomer. Hakeber wanted to know more about the Council Meeting, but it was far too public a place to reveal what went on. In any case, Tasha and Gabriel had to leave early to get to the Silent One's Embassy for dinner.
This time, dinner was a more private affair than for Tasha's big naming ceremony. Scholar-to-Aliens was there, along with Strength-of-Stones (who was very animated about potential infrastructure projects) while Feather-Tail served the meal before joining in. A lot of the conversation was a bit over Tasha's head, dealing with logistics and construction issues, and hampered by the need to use speaking-gloves for Gabriel's benefit. The food, at least, was very good - Feather-Tail knew a lot of Xenean style dishes, so while the meat was sparse there was a good variety of it and the seasonings and sauces hid the alien origins of it well.
Strength-of-Stones decided that dessert should be taken inside his private suite, which led to a narrowing of Scholar-to-Alien's eyes. But, he was the Archon, after all.
As they enter, Tasha stops just inside, taking a moment to look around. To her, this room -- like all the Archon's private rooms -- is rather peculiar, as it celebrates a people she had largely known as slaves prior to her arrival on Abaddon. While she can appreciate, even admire, the Archon's interest in the lives of his people on Sinai, she can't help but feel a bit guilty looking around as old prejudices haunt her mind.
Pressing on and hoping to squash those emotions, Tasha remarks, "This is very nice. I recognize a few of the tribal features, and a good number of the plants. It's clear how much you value asthetics, culture, and art."
The Archon flops back into a beanbag, and glove-speaks, "I had a collection of slave collars as well, but Feather-Tail made me destroy them."
Sitting primly on a stool, it's clear from her body language that Scholar-to-Aliens would like to see all of it destroyed. Feather-Tail heads on through to another of the rooms, vanishing.
"I can't blame her," Tasha admits, smiling wryly. She glances around for a moment, then heads for a hammock-style seat. She turns, dropping back in to the seat in a very comfortable, but not exactly professional, position. "To be honest, I never realized the Savanites had such a profuse culture until very recenty. On Sinai, people are still adjusting to the change, even years after. There's a lot of prejudice. At least, given the trends we've observed with Fleet species on Sinai, we can be sure that prejudice will fade away with time."
Gabriel can't help but smile at the hammocks and blueprints. He also takes a hammock seat next to Tasha.
"The Silent-Ones Culture is very deep and rich, and has brought civilization to lesser cultures," Scholar-to-Aliens says through her glove. Despite the monotone voice it conjures, there's still a sense of pride - or feline smugness - that makes it through.
"I don't recall the Vykarins complaining," is Strengh-of-Stones footnote.
"Oh, don't get me wrong Scholar-to-Aliens, I believe the Silent-One culture has great depth and quality. I was aware of Silent-One culture almost immediately after I became aware of the history of these worlds and that of the Fleet. I've been trained to work with certain Silent-One systems, as well," Tasha corrects, smiling. The young woman shifts until her wings spill out, looking noticably more at ease once they're not under her weight. "I suppose I consider Savanite and Silent-One culture distinct, despite being the same species. Of course, I don't consider past and currebt Karnors different, so that's probably a classification based around the startling difference between Silent-One and Savanite culture. Incidentally, I noticed there are Vykarins here -- is there a history behind that? We ran in to them on Sinai as well, near the Fenris site."
"The Shelled Warriors are our clients," Scholar replies, although it's possible that 'clients' in this case does not indicate a business relationship.
"Could you please elaborate? My understanding of that term feels insufficent in this case," Tasha asks, perking her ears forward.
"They were a primitive race which we blessed with our culture and civilization, so that they might serve in a greater endeavor and participate in the larger universe," Scholar claims.
"For clarity, Karnors are clients of Humans," Gabriel whispers to Tasha. "Well, used to be. It denotes a more parental, responsible role - and control - over an immature race."
"I see how that would be beneficial," the young woman observes, trying to sound positive. "The Vykarins on Sinai must be from the Fleet, then. I had wondered about that, given their radically different body structure." Tasha pauses to lean in and listen to Gabriel, nodding. "That makes sense," she replies, giving him a smile before turning back to their hosts. "The Captain explained the details as relate to the Karnor-Human relationship and I can definately see the advantages now. And, now that I think on it all, this touches on a future mission we're thinking of undertaking."
"You are seeking new client races?" the Archon asks. The mechanical voice conveys nothing, but the man's ears at least show surprise.
Tasha chuckles at that, shaking her head. "No, no. We're thinking on entering in to a mission to return to Sinai to locate, and if possible recover, the various ships and other associated technologies that made planetfall on that world. We'll also be making contact with a number of relevant governments, so we're seeking both approval and support for this endeavor."
"The Silent-Ones have no government presence on Sinai," Scholar points out.
Feather-Tail returns about then, carrying a platter with a pot on legs atop it. She sets this down on a low table, and signs, "They have a religious presence."
"I have it on good authority that the Savanite Queen of Xenea was in the competition to choose the new leader of the Silent-Ones of Zion," Strength-of-Stones points out with an ear-wiggle.
Scholar shoots the Archon a withering look, which the man completely ignores, focusing his attention on Feather-Tail's fancy pot.
"That may be true, however, the Savanites do. In the last few years, they've established themselves in the City-of-Hands, in the Xenea region as the Archon has pointed out. My friend, Master Lightfoot, has apparently been there in person and has forwarded to me a local myth -- a myth involving what appears to be a Titan. It's possible, then, that Xenea -- perhaps even the City of Hands itself -- is the primary landing site of the Silent-One Fleet assets assigned to Sinai." Tasha shifts her gaze to examine the pot, using it as a convient reason to pretend not to notice the tension. "We're likely to target this region for investigation, along with Rephidim -- the Ark's location -- and likely Nagai City, as well."
Feather-Tail lights a tea-candle beneath the pot, and shoos the Archon back from it - and wags her finger sternly as well, to make sure he gets the point. Then she's up and heading back to the other room again.
"If you will excuse me, I have critical matters to attend to," Scholar-to-Aliens notes, her scowl visible beneath her mask. She doesn't actually wait to be excused either, but gets up and leaves.
"I thought she would never leave," the Archon signs with his ungloved hand, and winks at Tasha. "What is so special about an old Silent-Ones Titan? There are many here on Abaddon to choose from."
Tasha blinks at this, but doesn't object. Instead, she says, "It was nice seeing you again, Scholar-to-Aliens. Good luck on your work," knowing full well there's no work involved.
Once the woman is gone, Tasha grins at the sign and replies, "I believe it may be another Titan like my own. In particualr, I believe it may be connected to a Progenitor Cult interest I've been tracking through records. If possible, I'd like to ascertain this as well as search for additiona related materials, such as artifacts and the notes of Henry Canaan. This is all aside from the overall mission; more of a personal quest."
"This Progenitor Cult was quashed before it could spread among the Silent-Ones," Strength-of-Stones relates. "At least, according to official history. There was an earlier cult that held influence during the transition time between pantheism and acceptance of the Star."
"Is that so? I know something of the early history of the Cult -- or more properly, Cults -- such as their base of power on Expedition-era Terra. There also appears to be evidence of the Cult within the Khattan Trade Emirate assets assigned to the fleet. Of particular interest is the conflict between the Turton-inspired Kampfengruppe and it's presumed Cult influence and the Khattan Cult Fleet elements. I can't prove it, but I believe this may have been part of why Henry Canaan sabotauged the Fleet. It's all a bit nebulous right now, so I'd like the chance to clear some things up with on-location research," Tasha explains. She reaches down to pull out her ever-present datapad, and adds, "I thought with the strong Silent-One religious history you might have more information, or another perspective on all this."
"Our history is truth, as opposed to fact," the Archon laboriously explains. "During the Great Transition, or Great Awakening, many wished to fit the new religion with the old. Pagan deities were recast as Saints or other influential but subservient figures. Into this came the Cult of Abraxas, with a surprisingly complicated theology. They claimed that reality is made of many layers, or heavens, and that each deity is responsible for one layer, where they may be many more above them, with the lord of all realities being Abraxas. This set the Star as supreme within our reality, yet subordinate to higher orders of divinity. It had many highly placed followers - all of them ones who made their names and fortunes through trade with alien civilizations soon after the opening of the stars after the Terrans made contact."
Tasha leans forward and actually sits up to listen. The others can pracically see the gears turn: she purses her muzzle, focuses her ears and nods along as if confirming things. When the man finishes, she says, "That sounds a little familiar, actually. One version of the Imperial creation myth lists Ahriman as their creator, yet a version of the Terran myth has Eve along with Adam, with Ahriman listed in a antagonistic role. Through them all, we see various heavens listed, and I believe the Cult elements that approached Sinai saw these worlds as being those heavens. However, I've not heard of these deities outside these myths -- the gods of these worlds have different names, although they might be examples of 'same god, different name'. There's something else, too ... May I trust you with this knowledge, Archon?"
"My lips are sealed," the cheetah replies, using his ungloved hand to make a zipping motion across his mouth.
Tasha grins, but her expression quickly sobers as she begins speaking. "You already know that I'm a cyborg, that I have machinery in my head that allows me to communicate with machines. Until recently, the exact way in which this connection interacted with input other than the Melchior has been difficult to ascertain, however, recently I've made some progress interpreting external, unbidden connections. I believe my firewall presents these connections in an abstract manner, in a sort of handshaking-meets-abstraction way. What I am getting at is, I have reason to believe the planet -- this planet -- attempted to reach out to me."
"In what way, other than gravity?" the Archon asks, sitting up on his beanbag.
"It's difficult to extract what was a product of my firewall interpretation of a Sifran-system produced feed and what was the actual message, however, I can extract certain details that are most likely external: the being, identifying himself as Abaddon, approached me in a friendly manner and suggested I had been looking for him. He then continued on to suggest I was 'necessary' to a plan to eradicate all alien life on this world and make room for 'our children.' When I objected, the figure became irate and made motions to suggest he would force me if I refused. The connection was then broken. This occured when I was near the rift area, during my stay overnight," Tasha explains. She reaches up to rub her muzzle, seeming to need a moment to gather herself before she continues, saying, "If you take the combined mythologies, you can extrapolate that this entity may be one of the gods referenced, possibly of a much larger pantheon. It's diturbing that he is hostile, but the fact he can interface with machi
machines fits with previous trends we've seen in machine-Sifran artifact interface."
"That seems difficult to believe," the Archon admits, and lowers his glove for a moment. With his other hand, he signs, "Are you certain it was not a nightmare?"
"No, but I have good reason to believe it is true. There is an AI who has also reported contact with an entity it identified as Abaddon. Given the scope of this AI, it is unlikely I could have been pre-programmed to force it to believe my story, and I had the dream before I encountered this AI," Tasha signs back, looking quite serious.
Tasha pauses, then asks, "Would you like to ask her yourself? I can ask if she is willing. I would be curious as to the answer, as well."
"And you are certain it was not that artificial being who sent you the vision?" the Archon asks next. He looks a bit alarmed at the offer to 'speak' with a machine. "Such things are beyond me. The notion makes me uncomfortable."
"The AI is not permitted to act outside its mission, and its mission is to observe. Direct contact would violate that directive. But, you are right. I could be fooled -- the question would then be, to what end? It is my thought these are real communication by an entity that is not organic, as they display unsophisticated methods at odds with the task of manipulation, unless that task is to get me to avoid destroying the aliens of this world, an unlikely scenario without assistance," Tasha insists. The young woman reaches over and picks up her datapad and begins to manipulate it, resorting to speaking out loud. "At any rate, I think there may be a connection somewhere in all this. The 'children' refered to are the AI present around this world, although I'm uncertain why I am the mother figure -- it may be a reference to my firewall persona. Shall we ask the other witness?"
"Can it lie?" Strength-of-Stones signs in reply.
Tasha removes a hand from her datapad to sign, "I have never known her to lie. Her mission was not intended to include contact, so the Khattans would not have included sophisticated interaction protocols as they would with social machines. In addition, I have command control. If she can lie, she is extremely good at it," she signs.
Feather-Tail returns once again, carrying plates of small bits of fruit and meat, which she sets down on the table next to the heating pot. She then removes the lid of the pot and stirs the contents - which appear to be actual xhocolatl (as opposed to chocolate).
Tasha pauses from watching the Archon intently to turn and smile at Feather-Tail, "Thank you for serving us." She even leans her head back a bit, wondering if she can spot the feather she offered.
The girl seems to be more formally attired tonight than she was back at Tartarus, but there's a hint of a tribal necklace seen past her collar. Gabriel leans forward to smell the fondue. Unlike chocolate, the Himaarian blend doesn't have any ill effects on canines.
"It's been a while since I had xhocolatl," Tasha remarks as sge leans forward to sniff the air. "As for what we were talking about, please consider it just another aspect of an overall mystery. You can understand my hesitance to address the matter before the Council. For now, I'd like to continue my research, and you can be sure we're keeping an eye of for any points of alarm."
"I've also been checked on multiple occassions for external influence, psychological illness and electronic intrusion, if you're wondering about that," the young woman adds, managing to keep her voice neutral in the face of questions about her sanity.
"I am no expert on thinking machines," Strength-of-Stones says via glove. "I design buildings and roads."
"I'm hardly an expert either," Tasha admits, looking up and smiling. "They just seem to like me. You could say it's because we speak the same language, but I think it's because I treat them with the same respect and consideration due any living thing. This is all the more true with machines that can think on a sentient level. After all, some of my closest friends and companions are machines."
This earns a startled look from Feather-Tail, but she recovers and sets out the fondue forks. There's an extra, since Scholar-to-Aliens left early.
The Archon loots at his glove with concern. It's likely the most advanced technology he regularly uses, after all.
"Dessert is ready," Feather-Tail signs, rolling her eyes at the antics of her employer.
Tasha blinks when Feather-Tail looks at her oddly, forcing her to ask, "Am I really so strange? The world machines live in is fascinating, just as the different cultures among us are. To have a second stretched so long it is, to you, like a year is to the rest of the world. To see the world as a thousand streams of date, to have your mind expanded in to a tree of knowledge ... Machines live in a beautiful world of order."
"The rest of us live in the real world, which is not orderly," the cheetah notes, before picking up a long fork. "Can the machines really understand our world?"
"All worlds are real to those who live them, it is all a matter of perspective and relativity, much like time. Even between us, we see different worlds. The Captain's world is strongly influenced by his nose, mine by my nose and eyes, and yours by your eyes. There is all sorts of radiation in this room we can't see. Look closely, and there's an entire world in a grain of Abaddonian sand. The world of machines is just another world, paralelle to our own. To understand them, and for they to understand us, we must look for a common language. We will never completely understand another's life, but we can at least come close," Tasha insists, smiling. "I have had the grand opportunity to share my mind with a machine, and become one with it. I have lived the minutes of a life of a machine, even if I know, because I chose to remember this, that what I remember is but a tiny fraction of the experience."
"Was it like a higher level of existence?" the Archon sign-talks, while his other hand spears a morsel of meat and dips it into the fondue. "Like the layers spoken of in the Cult of Abraxas?"
"Yes. In fact, it reminded me a greta deal of the sephirot depicted on the tree of life associated with Adam Kadamon. Each level grew from a central branchm sprawling out. I remember that my relative time stretched out, such that I could have made every decision, planned the running of the Pit, and directed a thousand other things in the span of minutes. You could say, it was an experience like that of divinity," Tasha relates.
"However, if I had encountered any problems requiring emotional judgement, I would have been limited to that which my brain produces. Emotional judgement is one of the weaknesses of mechanical thought -- they can freeze up when faced with problems logic cannot defeat," Tasha goes on to say.
"Perhaps that is why your Titan has a mind," Strength-of-Stones suggests. "Not to fight, or aid its pilot - but to talk to the Progenitor it is meant to seek. What chance have mere mortals to understand the mind of a god? Also, try this pink meat, it is very sweet."
Tasha blinks, impressed. "You deduced that just from our brief conversation? That idea took me weeks to deduce -- are you sure you're not also an architect of the mind?" The young woman then deliberately wiggles her canine ears, leaning in to pick pick at the snack.
"But yes, that's one theory. There's actually more, but I need to reiterate this is all under the table for the moment. I'm asking you because I like tot think that we're friends, and as I was able to trust you with that ... other matter, so, too, do I need your help now." The Vartan then pops the faax-chocolate covered slice in her mouth, grinning with enjoyment.
"What do you need of me?" the Archon signs.. with dark spots on his chin now that are a bit stickier than those on his fur.
Tasha licks her muzzle in a very obvious way, then replies, "I need your assistance in interacting with the governments of Sinai, specifically the new Xeneanite nation. More to the point, I am looking for specific relics associated with these three Titans, but I fear mentioning them openly for the associations they cast and the political repercussions they could cause. I'm also in a difficult position for another reason, that is, I am in command of a vessel that may be considered intimidating and a show of force, even if it's not. I'm uncertain how to proceed with it, as I wish to be honest with our benefactors, but not cause alarm or seem to be coercive through superior position," the young woman replies. Then, she has another snack.
"I can prepare a letter of introduction," the Archon's glove says. "For the other issue, I advise simply not telling anyone."
"I thank you for both," Tasha says, bowing her head. "For now, I will be, well, silent. You can be proud that I am making good use of my honorary status!" She wiggles her ears again, then licks some xhocolatl off her finger.
"I wish they would invent marshmallows," Gabriel notes, after dipping some fruit. "Although it makes Karnors look silly to eat."
Tasha leans forward and admits in a mock-whisper,"It makes us look like we're talking."
"We have peanut-butter if you like," Feather-Tail signs with an ear-wiggle.
Tasha glances at her mate. "They have peanut butter. We could present a illusion of harmlessness by looking silly."
"Illusion?" Gabriel asks, all serious.
Leaning back, Tasha licks her muzzle in a rather loud, chop smacking way. "Oh, of course! I'm completely harmless."