The stopover in New Zion was brief. Stored belongings were recovered, and a few other supplies acquired (including a box full of pens with the ink held inside). They were done in time to catch the late afternoon train to the Gateway. Once there, it was up to Aaron to get to them a slot on a caravan heading for Sinai, and Hakeber stuck to the Lapi's side with notebook in hand to write everything down - this was the scholar's first time meeting with Khatta, and she was a bit excited.
"Going to miss all of this cold desolation?" Gabriel asks Tasha, as they organize their supplies into a single cart-friendly bundle.
"Well, it is in my color," Tasha replies, smiling as she looks not at the Tower, but out across the barren expanse of Abaddon. "In many ways, this is my home now. Culturally, mentally, politically ... Everything I've worked for and built up is here, and I have more in common with these people than I do with those of my home world. Even dusty and unforgiving as it is, I can't help but feel I'm stepping away from a comfortable place."
Drawing in a deep breathe, Tasha holds it in, savoring the last scent of her new home. She holds it for a moment, thinking back on her adventures here, and everything that still needs to be done. She mentally prepares herself to refocus on her current mission; there's nothing that needs to be done here that cannot wait a few months. "I guess I'm ready to go," she admits after an exhale. "It's strange, but ... I almost feel like a foreigner, even though I'm returning home. A part of me is uneasy."
Aaron and Hakeber return with news of a merchant willing to take them through the Gateway without bankrupting them, and there is an almost relaxing few minutes while Tasha gets to carry a heavy load from one place to another once again - a simple and rewarding task. The ride through the Gateway is disorienting as always, despite all of Tasha's bizarre experiences. Being 'stretched out and shot through space' is still fairly unique. On the other side, Aaron is quick with the barf-bag for Hakeber.
Stepping from the chilly evening air of Abaddon to the noon heat of the Himaat is a bit jarring, and requires some wardrobe adjustments. Gabriel talks Tasha into trading her Abaddonian cloak - made of insulating, heavy leather - for something lighter that still lets her cover her armor. Hakeber practically strips down to her underwear before donning a desert cloak as well, and still has to pant often. Little time is lost, however, save for getting more water (which lacks the distinctive metallic tang of Abaddon) and finding an airship.
Several hours later they are at the Lightfoot Estate in Abu Dhabi, the heat and sand shaken off and a modicum of comfort returned. Hakeber is near sensory overload, while Gabriel is glad to be back with familiar friends and a chance to relax. After dinner, Aaron offers to take everyone to Dream Street again, but Tasha declines as she has other things on her mind.
In the cool (but not chilly) evening, the Vartan is able to sit on the villa's veranda and take out one of the cigarillos she picked up at Gateway City. The flare of the kerosene pocket-lighter is bright, but doesn't compete with the glowing band of the Procession arching across the sky.
In the sweltering heat of the desert sun, Tasha wasn't hesitant to strop herself of her metal armor, no matter how shiny it is. Now, she stands in one of her casual traveling outfits: a long, backless dress of sturdier fabrics that stretches to her ankles, side split to accomidate her digigrade legs; a light scarft wraps around her neck, and her hair is loose, disturbed only by the gentle night breeze of Abu Dabi. The wind carries the smoke and scent of her cigarillo out across the landscape of glittering lights; candles, she knows, as Sinai does not have electricity on the surface.
"What a year it's been ... Full circle ..," she breathes as she exhales, watching the smoke coil and rise.
"You've changed quite a bit," says the soft voice of Alexander Lightfoot, as the Lapi silently joins Tasha. "Got another of those?" he asks, gesturing to the cigarillo.
Tasha turns her head at the commen from the dark, watching Alexander approach and offering him a spare cigarillo from her pack at his request. "It must be a bit shocking, seeing me this way," she says, waiting for him to take up the smoke before clicking her lighter and offering to light it. "The last time I was here, I was a girl angry at the world, a lowlife from a poor family. Now I represent the interests of a world's government."
The big Lapi accepts the cigarillo, and then waves his hand over Tasha's shoulder. "Oh, I was wondering what the weight on your shoulders was. Growing up too fast can have side effects though - but you probably realize that now. But I suspect you're here to pursue your own interests as well, or you wouldn't be out here by yourself. I know how to set aside work once I'm home, but that's not really possible when the work is personal, correct?"
"You see it clearly," Tasha agrees, having turned to look once more upon the city. "How much did you hear From Aaron and the others?"
"Not much," Alexander says, taking a drag and blowing a smoke ring. "Hah, didn't know I could still do that! The wives made me quit years ago. I know you're involved with the Pit of Himar on Abaddon, and that you're looking for some specific First Ones artifacts. No details beyond that. My brother isn't one to gossip much."
"That's the gist of it," Tasha confirms, glancing over as she watches the man smoke. For a brief moment, she wonders if Gabriel will ask her to stop, some day. "I found something during my journies here, something bigger than I could have imagined. It lead me to the world of Abaddon, and further still. With what I was able to find, I founded an organization dedicated to the responsibile use of exploratory resources and the ideals of a fair and inclusive Abaddon. We're just in our infancy right now, but as you can see, we've been recognized. I have a small stack of offical recognition letters; I'll admit, I sat staring at them earlier, and a part of me wondered when they would disappear like a fading dream. I get that feeling a lot, these days."
Tasha pauses to take another inhale. The smooth, flavorful smoke is a sinful indulgence she could rarely indulge in while crewing an airship. Now, with her schedual constantly busy and with little time to relax like she once did, she's finding new ways to insert moments to relax in to her life. "Officially, I'm Joint Expeditionary Force Pilot-Cadet Tasha. Unofficially, well ... There's so much more behind it all, and me as well. I'm sure you've noticed I'm vocabulary and pronuciation."
"You sound like you've gone to Charm School, yes," Alexander notes. "Letters of Recognition, you say? Are you here to see the Emir?"
Tasha chuckles at the mention of Charm School, but doesn't elaborate further, which may be telling in and of itself. "That's right. We'd like to inquire about some matters, specifically history -- excuse me, ancient history -- and particular artifacts. We're somewhat concerned about ther Emir's affiliation with the Kamp, but right now, the exact details are vague and our concern is only tangential." Another long drag; as the smoke curls from her muzzle, Tasha adds, "And this all ties in to my personal interests. Don't get me wrong," she turns to face the man fully, looking a little anxious, "The JEF is my concern. My life, these days. But within our duties I have focused interests and special projects, and this is one of them. I'm looking for a few specific artifacts to confirm some theories I have. You could say I'm playing archaeologist."
"I wondered about the new girl," Alexander notes. "Smart, but.. well, like you were. Just more likely to ask questions. I know that the library of the Emir is extensive and supposedly dates back to the time of the Expedition. It also grows daily, as information from the Offworld Legion flows into it. Can you read Khattan?"
"Unfortunately I cannot. Hakeber -- the Karnor woman with us -- may be able to, but I doubt Gabriel can. Perhaps Aaron? If not, I'm certain there will be translators available," Tasha answers. She then gestures to a small stack of paper -- neat, straight lined paper rather than parchment -- on top of a pile of sketch and note books. "I had been reviewing my material just before you entered." She then tilts her head, and asks, "You wouldn't be lending us your services as a translator, would you?"
"That depends," Alexander says, "on how much you want me involved. As I understand it, a scholar sends a specific request to the library, and the appropriate information is copied out for them. Rarely are people allowed access to the books directly. This means it is possible for the librarians to alter or censor any material they deem threatening to the Emirate's interests. It should be possible to request the data in any language, but any translation is likely to have contextual errors."
"Accuracy of the data is essential," Tasha insists, tapping her cigarillo against the rail as she thinks. "Error could lead us on a wild goose chase across the planet, or worse. Further complicating the issue is the possibility of making the Kamp aware of our interests, which could signal a conflict between our objectives. Presently, we're uncertain of the Kamp's exact goals in this arena but, given their speciesist agenda and exclusionary politics, my first impression isn't positive."
Tasha pauses for a breath, head shaking. "At the very least, we can hope to bank on our superior position. While the Kamp is a nation, we represent the other, more powerful nations in combination, including the Pit, with the addition of what resources we as an organization personally offer. In a word, we're a much better bargain, but we lack control of key locations, which is our biggest loss to their position."
"As far as I know, the Kampfzengruppe have no presence in the court of the Emir," Alexander says. "The Emirate cooperates in maintaining the Offworld Legion, but all of the actual interaction is limited to Gateway City. The Legion does not operate outside of that on Sinai, and only to protect the Gateway. The real purpose of the Legion, as I am led to believe, is commercial. Protection of trade routes and finding new profitable resources. The Kamp has control of the Abaddon Gateway, and needs the resources of the Emir more than the Emir needs the Kamp. Personally, I can easily see the Emirate taking over the Legion completely within a few years and cutting out the Kamp altogether."
"Then the risk may not be the Legion and the Kamp, but the Emir," Tasha murmurs, ears canting back. She's quiet for a moment after, turning to stare out across the city to where the palace grounds glitter under the light of the Procession. "The JEF isn't a commercial venture, although we are a rescue and recovery institution when times call for it. Given that, and what you have said, the Emir may be more interested in our ties -- and thus the resources we may be able to garner -- than our politics and archaeological interests, unless ... " She taps her cigarillo again, looking down, pensive. "Unless the Emir is aware of more than we suspect ... perhaps if the Kamp has said something? And the records ... if they're that old ... Khattan records ... Hmm."
"In the recent past, the Emir has financed several expeditions of discovery - at least one of which resulted in the Temple claiming a First Ones site," Alexander notes. "At the moment, his pet project is the Zoological Gardens, which will house creatures from all over Sinai and from the Gateway worlds. Knowledge is also a form of wealth, after all. You may be able to get his cooperation, if your mission is interesting enough to him."
"Well, we certainly don't lack for interesting!" Tasha chuckles as she lifts her cigarillo to her lifts, taking a pull, the smoke curling around her muzzle as she exhales. "Or for wildlife, for that matter. Would you believe I was almost killed by a vermite the size of car- ... car-avan cart? We fought of a skedat the size of a small city at the dam. Abaddon's creatures are as varied as they are fearsome."
"I daresay our pet Hookah would not be able to handle a giant vermite," Alexander notes, and puffs out another circle. "If you submit a detailed query to the library, and it touches on something of interest to the Emir, you will know about it."
"Would you advise bredith in our aims, or should we narrow down to key topics?" Tasha glances to her cigarillo, then her paperwork. "We'll also be meeting with other national leaders, so we also have to be careful about how broad of an alliance we make. We can't risk offending anyone and, thus, our patrons."
"A more specific request will get better results," Alexander suggests. "I have inquired about trade routes in the past, and have learned that asking about specific routes returns better information than just asking about routes in general. If you know the specific details of the artifacts you seek, I think you should describe them in as much detail as possible - but, if you know of legends or other surrounding elements, you could focus on those as well. Also, submit a separate query for each; one for the artifact, one for the legends."
"I'll do that; thank you Alexander." Tasha turns to smile at the man before returning her gaze to the city. She quiet for a moment, seeming content to enjoy the quiet night, and her cigarillo, until she asks, "Have you ever wondered, where it all began?"
"Sometimes," Alexander admits. "Out on the desert at night there is little else to do but contemplate things, and with flat sand and the bowl of the sky looming so large, you can only feel small. Deserts spawn philosophy and religion, I think."
"Would you like an answer?" Tasha asks as she watches the city.
"The truth is often disappointing in such matters," the big buck claims, looking up at the Procession and blowing a halo of smoke towards it. "It is the wondering and contemplation that I find more rewarding, if that makes sense. To know the truth.. it would leave me with just the sense of being small out there on the desert."
"Then you understand me better than you know." Tasha draws in deep, holding a moment before she exhales.
"They say that the more you learn, the more you realize how little you know," Alexander says. "Is it that sort of situation?"
"It's a very apt observation," Tasha agrees. She turns her gaze upward, past the city, the mountains, beyond the sky in to the stars. "The desert doesn't change when you think about it; we're the ones who change for our experiences. What I found that day deep in the mountains of Amazonia opened my eyes to a greater universe. To me, the world looks small. But that doesn't mean I don't love it."
The next morning finds the group reunited, although Hakeber still looks a bit rumpled around the edges and hungover. It doesn't help that she's wearing a belly-dancer costume that she obviously slept in. Aaron looks deliberately innocent, and all Gabriel would tell Tasha when they got back late last night was that, "That artist is an odd fellow."
After breakfast, the Abaddonian scholar is a bit more alert at least. "So.. what's the plan, boss?" she asks Tasha.
"Well, first we'll need to clean you up. Then we're going to sit down and prepare our requests for submission to the Emirate libraries. We're going to want to focus on specific items, with supporting legends -- each an individualized submission with artifact and legend seperate items," Tasha answers, today dressed in a skirt, Vartan booties, a sarong around her wait, a half shirt, kerchief, and cloak. "If we get the Emir's attention, we'll know."
"And what's the plan if you get the Emir's attention?" Aaron asks.
"Then we prepare to meet the Emir," Tasha answers, smiling. "More precisely, we prepare a diplomatic envoy and focus on politeness, cooperation, and attempting to meet the Emir's interests and desires without stepping on any of the toes of our patrons and possible future patrons."
"Will we be using my credentials to submit the requests, or does that even matter?" Hakeber asks, and looks down at herself to see what needs to be 'cleaned up' about her new look.
"Gabriel, if you don't mind me taking the lead here, I'd like you to prepare any Fleet specific andor generalized requests from our patrons. That will be data recovery and resource recovery, including any planetfall sites, ruins, andor data that might be recoverable, if you have specific ideas in mind. That will also include any specific needs our patrons listed. Hakeber," and here Tasha turns to finally answer the woman, "we'll be using our combined credentials, in order to amke the largest footprint and increase the chance of notice. You and I will format requests for artifacts and potential artifacts sites as well as legends. So, in summary: Gabriel will handle the non artifact specific matters, and we'll handle those specific t the artifact hunt. Alexander and Aaron can help us format the requests to meet with local customs."
"Ah, paperwork," Gabriel says. "I almost missed it!"
"Hmmm, I'll go see if there are official forms then, and what the fees are for access," Aaron says, standing up and stretching.
"I'll get my notes, and.. uh.. clean up?" Hakeber says. "I thought this outfit was cute though.."
"No matter where we go, paperwork will follow," Tasha teases. Her hair is down, necessitating she brush it over her ear to keep it out of her way, which she does with a flick of her hand. "We should be prepared for a summons." She glances at Hakeber again, eyes lingering a moment before she adds, "It is cute. You still need to clean up."
"I think we should ask about any recent astronomical events as well," Gabriel suggests. "This region is close to the plane of the Procession, and gets hit by debris every so often - they must have some sort of observatory for tracking things."
"That's a good idea," Tasha agrees. "The Emirate may contribute more to our search if we pique their interest, so we should be prepared to expand on our requests if called upon. Hakeber and I will focus on the ships, the Titans, and the artifacts as well as their legends. Noting that I possess one of these may add some veracity to our inquest, for example -- I'm sure the Emir would be fascinated by our stories."
"Break out the pens then," Gabriel says. Several hours, pens and sore wrists later, the forms that Aaron brings back have been filled in (thankfully, they didn't have to be submitted in Khattan). The (non-refundable) library fees come out to over 100 Shekels, but Aaron claims it's within the budget.
"If nothing else, the clerks will be impressed with the use of ink," the Lapi buck notes.
Tasha leans back, massaging the sore pads of her rigth hand. "I'm glad we brough the refined inks with us," she agrees. "Any other reaction?"
"Well, I think having my brother's place as our contact address helped," Aaron notes. "I doubt we'll hear anything before tomorrow though, so if you've got something you want to look into in the meantime.."
"I can't think of anything," Tasha admits. "Honestly, I've got my mind occupied by our work here. This does't seem like the time to be distracted. I suppose I could check the dock to seee if The Rake happened by, our shine my armor again."
"Transport is something to check," Gabriel notes. "I don't expect that we'll need to leave in a hurry, but it would be good to have the schedules at least. At this point, I'm assuming our next stop is still Rephidim unless something definite comes of the queries."
"That's my impression too," Tasha agrees. "I'll change and head for the docks then. I shouldn't need any help, unless someone wants to come along out of boredom. I'll need to change and fetch my weapons before we leave."
"I'll come along," Gabriel says. "I like seeing the tall ships in the harbor."
"My captain is a ship man?" The young Vartan gives her mate a mock-incredulous look, then grins. "Do you want to walk, or take the Tasha Express?"
"If you're wearing your armor, I doubt you can carry me as well," Gabriel notes with a chuckle. "Walking should be fine. I'm not that old yet."
Tasha just winks before standing up. "I'll be right back then."
It's several minutes before she returns, but her outfit hasn't changed all that much. She's still wearing the heavy, side-slitted leather skirt (an Abaddonian Vartan design), but has replaced the half shirt with the chest protector of her armor, and added leg and hand guards, as well. She pulls her new, lighter hooded cloak closed as she walks up to the table, locking the final straps of her baldric over it. "There we are," she declares, pulling out her neckerchief and tying it in place. "All ready do go." Her weapons are splut in their scabbards, each hanging at her side. Along with the neckerchief, they almost make her look like a new take on an old Western style.
"Of we go then!" Gabriel says. He's wearing much more typical Himaatian garb; airy cotton pants and shirt with a decorated vest. Of course his belt and boots are Abaddonian, and he's got a sword at his side - but his own cloak hides it well enough. Leaving Aaron and Hakeber at the estate, they walk the road towards the docks - barely a mile away, as merchant estates tend to cluster close to their means of shipping.
"It's nice to just walk through a city and not get more than a few grams of sand in my hair," Tasha remarks with a smile as she takes in the sights. "There's so much I never noticed before, back when I was busy being full of myself."
"Learning to enjoy the journey then?" Gabriel asks. The flat terrain helps with the view; the various cradled airships are visible ahead, along with the masts of seagoing ships. In the opposite direction is the 'official' airfield, but that's reserved for the larger airships.
"I think so," Tasha replies, turning to watch merchants haggle, her ears perked. "I've been learning to insert little moments of calm and relaxation in to my day, that way I can keep busy without breaking down. It's not perfect, but I'm learning, I think. I'm glad I brought those cigarellos."
"And I'm glad I brought some mouthwash," Gabriel says with a chuckle. Soon enough, the harbor is upon them, with all it's bustle and noise. But the weapons and armor are noticed and so the pair are awarded a bit more personal space.
Part of the process is checking which airships look safe, which is something Tasha has lots of experience with. It narrows down the number of schedules to check as well.
While there is a single Ptera-pulled ship in port, it isn't the Rake.
"This brings back memories, though I'll admit I never had to act on this information in a prospective passenger capacity," the young woman remarks as they review their current list of options. "Did you see that Eeee? the second Captain? We'd have been lucky if we arrived with our clothes, if not our lives," she confides in quieter tones. "And that blue Vartan, he's too nervous, too forceful; he hasn't been a captain long. The grey had promise, but after I got a look at their ship, I figured we don't need to take unnecessary risks. And of course, the rest were plain crooked."
"The big liners are at the airfield," Gabriel notes. "I remember them we boarded that magic airship last time. They won't be leaving on a moment's notice, no-questions-asked however."
"I suggest we have two options then: one for immediate departure, and one for casual departure. That way if we run in to trouble, we can get out of here -- or if we find a lead that can't wait," the half-Vartan woman suggests. She points down the list. "This one, the Cloud Thief, you can tell they're smugglers, but they're operating in the open, so, they're probably 'smugglers'," and here she makes bracket motions with her fingers, "in the sense that someone is supporting them locally, probably a merchant prince of some sort. He's probably under contract and needs to keep a good, public face, so he won't be aiming for trouble unless we give him a reason. His cargo was still being offloaded, but given the size of his ship and the lack of cargo at port, he's probably delayed because of traffic and warehousing problems, so I expect he won't be departing for at least a day."
"He probably has legitimate cargo, too, he needs to work out," Tasha adds. "The air of legitimacy allows him to operate in the open."
"Very perceptive," Gabriel says. "I wouldn't have noticed that. I was only looking at the ships themselves and wondering how fast or far they could go. So even though that captain may be a smuggler, you're saying he won't risk something like robbing us?"
"That's right," Tasha confirms. "He may be a smuggler, but he also has a legitimate cover business and backing from a local supporter that will abandon him or, well, express their displeasure if he gets out of line. Carrying passengers is always a good way to add an air of legitimacy, especially if they look important and can help deflect authorities."
"Bribes only go so far, but a guard won't risk their position and their hide tangling with important people. The merchants know these things, but can't use it themselves, so they employ proxies like this," she finishes.
"So we're safer with him because he has more to lose than a purely legitimate Captain might," Gabriel says. "And less of a reason to refuse us passage as well. I guess Cloud Thief is the top of our list then?"
"It may not be the best for quick departures immediately, but I figure they'll be ready to go tomorrow some time. We may be able to get him to forgo his usual return cargo if we really need him to, unless what he's smuggling is in it. If that's the case we'll need alternatives. Still, I pick him as a one-way smuggler and this is just money he makes on the return -- Rephidim's underworld produces a lot of hard to get narcotics that are in high demand in ports with high luxury needs, like this one. Rephidim, on the other hand, tends to import more obvious luxuries," Tasha explains. She then nods towards the greater airfield, saying, "Any of the larger passenger liners should do. They reliable and generally safe, with enough crew to ward of pirates. Some of them even make the trip together for added safety."
"Less control over where they go, though.. but more anonymity as passengers," Gabriel ticks off, and pauses in front of one of the sea-going ships at dock.
"We'll need to charter a dedicate ship from Rephidim if necessity doesn't require we find one here," Tasha agrees, brushing her hair from her face as the wind picks up. "I'm hoping for The Rake, but if it's out of port there's a few others I know who will do, and will be less likely to betray us, as they'll know Captain Eyeshine. We may have to put up with lude remarks, though. On second though ... " Here, Tasha twists her muzzle and begins to start inspecting the ships with increased focus, "Maybe we should charter here after all."
The ship before them is unusual - much smaller than the others, suggesting it's a coast-hugger. And the crew on deck appear to be all Savanites and Jingai.
What's more, there are city guards at the start of the pier.
Tasha pauses to inspect the ship before them, then lifts a hand and points to it. "You know, you don't see very many ships crewed by Savanites and Jingai. This might be a ship from Bromthen, if not from Xenea itself. I'm going to go talk to them, do you mind?" She glances at her mate.
"They've got my curiosity piqued," Gabriel admits, eyeing the guards.
"Time expidite our expeditiousness and explore!" Tasha hooks her arm with Gabriel's, walking forward and waving to the guards. "Ahoy there! You don't see very many ships with crews like this; would your ship happen to be form Xenea?" She then lifts her free hand and add, "I understand sign fluently."
The guards are both Khatta, and don't seem to care about the Karnor and Hybrid.. they certainly don't move to intercept or interrupt them. A long reptilian face peers over the bow of the ship, and replies, "Aye, we are out of Safar. The Drowned Ptera out of Safar, that is."
"That's wonderful! Isn't that wonder, Gabriel?" Tasha inquires in a friendly, if not cheery, tone that Gabriel has learned to be her way of testing the water by seeming oblivious. After giving her mate a big grin and not waiting for an answer, she turns to ask, "What, if I may ask, is your policy about passengers? Do your charter out? Carry cargo? You see we're from Abaddon, and this is all new to us."
"We go to Safar, which is the only real port in Xenea as yet," the reptile says. It's vaguely Kiriga shaped, with arms and legs, but lacks the hair (or has shaved it off) or elegance of the Jadaiian breed - it's also a dull gray. "Safar is the biggest city. Lots to see and do there, even visit the City of Hands from there. We can take a few passengers, but Khattan laws say no Savanite slaves can travel to Xenea, and our own Savanites can't leave the ship. You traveling with Silent Ones?"
"You could say we represent their interests," Tasha replies, a bit of her cheery tone dropping off, even as she grins more; a hint that she had been 'faking it.' "Or rather, the interests of the major powers of Abaddon, in the exploratory capacity."
"No Silent Ones means no fancy permits," the Jingai notes. "No problem taking you. Not as nice as the tourist ship though. You been in a boat before?"
Tasha's grin only widens. "I grew up on an airship; if you need a crew member -- or a captain -- I'm your gal. Going it rough is nothing to us."
"I used to sail," Gabriel claims. There aren't any lakes or oceans on Abaddon, but maybe the lizard doesn't know that.
"I'm a bit of a captain myself, these days," Tasha adds in time.
"Okay, will take a few days, and we aren't leaving until.." Here the sailor pauses, then turns and gestures to one of the Savanites further back on the deck. They aren't using standard sign, but some sort of variant Tasha hasn't seen. "Three days, maybe," the lizard comes back with. "Waiting on customs. Always tricky stuff."
"We might be able to expidite that, depending on how our own efforts here go. As it is, we don't expect to be leaving immediately but, if it does come to that, we'll be gone without notice on any ship I think is safe and will carry us where we need to be. Right now, that could be almost anywhere, but Rephidim and Safar are more likely than most. Incidentally ... " And here she leans forward. "Do you have any crewmembers familiar with Xenean legends? Priests perhaps?"
"Priests on a cargo boat?" the man almost laughs, then seems to think on it. "Uh, why don't you come on board, out of the sun?" he suddenly offers.
"Thank you, that would be wonderful." Tasha agrees in the louder, more vapid tone of her earlier questioning. She takes Gabriel's hand and nods for the man to lead on.
The gangplank is lowered, and soon the two travelers are being led into the forward cabin of the ship. The room is small and dark, but cool. The reptilian sailor opens shutters to let in more light and air, and bids the pair to sit on some cushions. The smell of incense lingers in the room, and the wooden floor is worn smooth in places. "Please wait, I'll be right back.." the sailor urges.
"Incense ..," Tasha murmurs after her guest has left the room. "Expensive and not common, no matter how much we'd like it to be. Either their captain is indulgent, the crew are prove to lavishness ..," she rolls her eyes towards her mate, shwoing how likely those are, " ... or there's more to it than blocking the scent of sweaty men. Just in case ... be ready." She follows her own advice by loosening her blades in their scabard and resting her hand son the hilts.
A few moments later, the door opens and a new figure enters. His hooded head nearly brushes the ceiling, but even without the height his bearing is of one who is used to looking down at others. The Savanite is wearing a cloak not unlike those worn by Tasha and Gabriel, and his face shows age - and more. Tasha remembers what it was like to first time she looked into Gabriel's eyes; eyes from another age. The Savanite folds his legs in a smooth motion, sitting down across from them on a pillow without actually altering his posture in the process. "I am Cliff-Shadow," he signs in one-handed Formal. "Formerly of the Twelve-Times-Twelve. Who do you represent among the Silent Ones of Abaddon?"
Tasha removes her hands from her weapons, instinctively bowing her head to the authority of the figure before her as well as in apology. Those hands then rise to sign, "I do not recognize your title, but I know your bearing and I see the roll of years in the reflection of your eyes," she signs first, her expression now serious. "We are members of the Joint Expeditionary Force, our patrons are the members of the Pit of Himaar Treaty Council of Abaddon, who in turn represents the interests of the Silent Ones, Expedition, Celestial Empire and Confederacy. I am Winged-Gift by the honor of Archon Strength-of-Stone, of The People. I am T A S H A, Pilot-Cadet of the J E F. My companion is Captain A K K E R S, leader of the J E F; may I repeat this and future signs out loud so that he may know them, Cliff-Shadow? She finishes with a honorific gesture; the equivilent to 'sir.'
"You may speak for his benefit and expediency," the Savanite replies. "I have heard of Strength-of-Stones. As for my title, it means that I am what you would call a mage. I served the old Priest-King, many thousands of years past. I participated in his binding, and was released by the Priest-King Third-Vision several years ago. I do not serve the current Priest-King Jade-Eyes in any official capacity, as the Order of the Twelve and Twelve-Times-Twelve has been.. abolished."
Tasha pauses before she replies; Gabriel doesn't need to scent her to see the expression of stunned realization on her face. After she composes herself, she repeats what was said, glancing to her mate, then signing while she in turn gives /him/ a chance to let the shocking information sink in. "/Then you are not alone in having seen the span of ages pass while you sleep,/" she signs, thinking, finally, maybe she has found someone her Gabriel can relate to. "/The history of the early Silent-One culture on Sinai is not known to me, but I am aware of the history before the People touched these worlds. I recognize your status as mage, though I will save my questions about that for later, if you chose to entertain them. As you have shared, so shall we: we are explorers, descendents in spirit and in flesh of those who came to these worlds from beyond the stars seeking the knowledge contained here. We have come in that pursuit; we seek artifacts and legends to help us recover specific and general resources lo
st to time. We would remake what has been forgotten, and reveal what has yet to be found./"
"You would rebuild the Silent Ones Empire on Sinai?" the mage signs, somewhat mockingly, even if his expression remains blank. "I doubt this. The current Priest-King is a woman of limited ambition. If you wish our history, seek it in the City of Hands, in the Nest of the Creen-God. Many have tried to hide the history, and even she had it destroyed before her journey to far off Zion. She vowed to restore it, but I left before I could witness such."
Tasha's ears cant at the mockery, but she presses on. Gabriel can certainly smell her anxiety, now. "We do not wish to recreate Empires," she corrects, inclining her head. "We seek the technology, history, and relics of the past. We seek the time before we were entrenched upon these worlds; a return to an age of exploration, advanced sciences, learning, and prosperity. A time even before yours, when your Priest-King walked." She pauses, wondering how uch she should ask of this clearly bitter man, but, not being one to hesitate in the face of a dangerous option, keeps going. "We will see the City-of-Hands and find what we may. Perhaps you know what we seek: a giant of metal and crystal; a stone depciting both male and female Silent-Ones. The 'Seraph Titan'; the Marker."
The cheetah stiffens at the end of Tasha's statement. "The Seraph Titan is sealed," the man signs, a bit curtly. "Only the Priest-King may break that seal. But the location is lost to any now living. Even I, who participated in the sealing, could not tell you where its vault is."
"I will find it," Tasha insists, leaning forward. "Or it will find me; we are the same. We are its brother and sister."
"I find that hard to accept," Cliff-Shadow signs. "You are not of the People."
After the translation, Gabriel give Tasha a slight nudge with is elbow, and opens his belt pouch so she can see the edge of a photograph in it.
"Nor is it," Tasha replies, getting so in to the conversation she almost forgets to repeat what she said out loud. "In the time before we came to these worlds it was forged by the hand of others; that it resides where it-" She blinks as her conversation is literally derailed, her hand jarred by the nudge. She looks over, then makes an "oh", reaching for the belt's contents, which she pulls out. After flipping through the various items, she turns around a picture of herself standing beside the Melchior. "In a time before it was the 'Seraph Titan,' it had a different name -- if it is what we seek, that is."
The cheetah seems to age when he sees the photograph. He stares at it for over a minute, as if convincing himself it isn't just a clever painting. Finally, he signs, "Forgive me, I assumed you were simply treasure hunters. Why do you seek the Seraph?"
"There is no need; the man beside me -- my mate -- had also experienced a life far beyond his time. I accept your frusteration gladly and do not blame you nor think less of you for it. I, too, feel it, though less." Tasha bows her head, but lower this time; she understands, at least in part, the pain of isolation and an existence out of your own time through Gabriel and her own foreign memories. When she rises again, she signs, "We seek to understand it. In this image I stand before its brother, of which I am part, as its pilot. In learning its nature I learned of the others, and of artifacts associated with them. I have been pursuing this knowledge ever since. It drives me to find them; I have had whispers in my dreams and riddles showing me the way."
"What you seek is in the City of Hands then," Cliff-Shadow signs. "But you will need to win over the Priest-King and procure her aid in your search."
Tasha pulls in a breath at the mention of another national ruler; it takes her a moment to gather herself in the face of the anxiety. When she started on this path, she never imagined it would take her so far, or to places people rightfully fear to tread. "Then we will do our best to procure her assistance," she signs when she has regained her nerve. "It seems we are destined to meet the rulers of the land."
"If you require carriage to Xenea, I will take you," Cliff-Shadow signs. "Accept my offer, and I will wait for you."
"We do not yet know the will of the Emir; we have submitted requests to his libarary, seeking similiar information. We do not know the reaction of the K A M P F E N G R U P P E, who may also seek these artifacts. There is much we do not know, and these is much risk in not knowing. We do not wish to burrden you if you ar unwilling to accept these risks; you have suffered enough," Tasha replies, watching the ancient mage's response carefully.
"My ship is more than it seems," the Savanite replies. "I will await word from you or your proxy. If you cannot leave, or must leave quickly, send word. I believe you have the means, for I can feel the presence of Shadow Magic in association with you."
"/You .. what?/" It comes out as a stumble of hands as Tasha begins to reply, but is completely thrown off by the mention of Shadow Magic. "How can-" She exhales, then begins /signing,/ "How can that be? We do not have a Shadow Mage -- or any mage, for that mattern. We have just come from Abaddon. But as you say, that is, we will notify you and we will attempt to join you if possible. I would ask more of this, but I do not want to draw attenton to ourselves by staying overlong. We may speak more after we are at sail?/"
After listening, Gabriel whispers to Tasha, "He must mean Alexander's second wife, Layla. She's a Shadow Mage."
"If there is time and opportunity, there is much I would ask you," Cliff-Shadow notes, a bit surprised by the outburst.
"Really?" Tasha whispers back, looking noticably relieved. "Well, that explains that. For a moment I was worried; we have quite enough mysterious goings on without shadow magic from nowhere." To the mage, Tasha signs, "I had forgotten our guests have a mage among them. Please forgive me, I have not long been comfortable with magic. It has a been a hard road, but I am making progress." She then smiles. "I will answer; it will be a most enlightening jounrney, I think."