The Celestial Court
Suspended between the living world and Heaven, this realm of clouds and stars swirls around an unseen center point. There is no sound save the rustling of leaf-like scales that cover its lord and master.

Mirrors of ice rise up out of the cloud that Tasha finds herself on. The first mirror shows a young half-Vartan girl, maybe six years old. Her face is twisted in anger, fists clenched and bloody. The second mirror shows Tasha almost as she is now, or as she was before she ever saw herself in a decent mirror: the teenager, with a coy look and certain smugness at her own ability to manipulate others. A shadowy Vartan form seems to stand behind her, with a translucent hand on her shoulder.

The third mirror shows a creature made of scars and patchworks of chitin and metal, and a cold eye: The Empress.

Lord Yama seems to hover over Tasha's shoulder, as if anything that big could possibly hover intimately enough to whisper into her ear. "Fascinating, aren't they?" the self-proclaimed death god asks. "All of them different, but all of them you. Tell me, Tasha.. would you trust any of them to speak to the Progenitor?"

"Are you trying to get me to doubt myself?" Tasha asks as she watches her reflections, brow raised. "You're not the first. Lets see ... " Tilting her head and rolling her eyes skyward, Tasha places a finger to her muzzle and considers. "You grew up insecure and lonely, you then found your physical strength and learned to manipualte others, but then realized it wasn't the same as true, inner strength. You stumbled for a time, and thought maybe strength came from machines and position, until you realized it came from a cause, those who surround you, and through passionate altruisim. You sought to safeguard power, but did not realize how much you held, and were tempted force your vision and compassion on others, becoming a tyrant. Look upon your many mistakes, Tasha. How can you go on, Tasha?"

Her head shifts, her gaze with it, turning to glance to the dragon's face. "Perhaps so you can consume me, or make a case for some other plot? Perhaps you enjoy toying with mortals, as you enjoy destroying them and basking in your power? Perhaps you believe you are better suited to approach the Progenitor?"

"I am the one who will judge the worthiness of the emissary," Yama claims, switching shoulders now. "I am the safeguard. The Serpent of Arabia, That which is leader of all this game. I was the one that had the Harbingers transferred. I was the one who whispered into the ears of the Mutineer, among many others. And I made sure the Celestial motherships and their AI crashed on different worlds."

Tasha's brows raise all over again. "Well, that's different, isn't it?" She draws in a deep breath, looking over her various aspects before she exhales. "Was this part of your original function, then?"

"You could say that, if it helps," Lord Yama claims. "But you should know that not every race touched by the Progenitor had a Marker."

"I'll put aside the manipulation, condemnation and destruction of so many lives for the moment, but I don't approve, game or not." Tasha pauses to consider, then nods. "With so little information to go on, it seems perfectly reasonable that what you say is true. In fact, our list of species that were given Markers is imperfect and may or may not need the addition of species we -- or, as it may happen, the Fleet species -- have never encountered. The universe is vast and we are just a small part of it; Nora taught me that."

Twisting her muzzle, Tasha rocks her head side to side as she thinks, then adds, "The question is, then, why did some recieve Markers, and others not. Who are the Progenitors, and what does their touch mean? Physically, spiritually, it's a deeper question than even such a considerable mystery entails. Do you know the details, then?"

"If I knew everything, then there would be no need to insert a group into the Expedition Fleet," Yama replies. "I was 'planted' within the Celestial Empire long, long ago. I had a purpose, most of which was simply waiting. Influencing subtly when the time was right. It's all about timing, you see, Tasha. And six millennia ago, it didn't feel right. Either it wasn't the right time for contact, or those involved weren't ready for it. It had to wait, until it was all but forgotten."

"Until I came along; I see." The young woman steps away, folding her hands as she gazes out at the sea of stars. "An AI that was constructed to manipulate and conceal a mystery, and a living person created to answer one. Ince, I'd have considered the timelines involved to be incomprehensible, the coincidences baffeling, and the secret ... The secret remains aluring. Maybe even consuming. That endless hunger to know, to explore. I must have gotten that from my own creator."

"But I the more I've looked for it, the more I've questioned how much I need it. If it's more important than what I already hold in my hands. Still, I've come this far." Looking back, she asks, "To answer your original question: the Empress does not exist; she was once possible future, but her time to exist has passed. For the others, I trust them because I know they are me. If you're thinking I migth disvorce myself from my mistakes, I won't. Without those more flawed existences, this one would not exist. Without Nora's mistake, I would not exist. And without the mistake of the Expedition, she would not have been here to make that mistake. We are our choices and our failures, and I am no different. Strenth, I think, comes from overcoming weaknesses through effort. Learning. Growing. We would like to never have made them, but then we would remain children."

"So you admit to being a flawed mortal being, seeking answers to a question you don't really grasp," Yama suggests. "But do not assume you are the one I've been waiting for. I have simply been waiting. I would continue waiting until I was found. I do not believe in predestination, you see. Tell me about the interest of others though. Are there any who support or hinder you with ulterior motives or agendas?"

"Oh yes, I fully admit to being both flawed and mortal. The struggle to reach you was a potent reminder, if nothing else," Tasha replies, finally turning back to face the dragon. "Please don't think I assume I'm 'the one.' The mystery I was created to solve has been answered; I like to think I'm here of my own accord." She smiles a little. "And I was happy to do it. I wish I could have done more. Maybe I can, in time."

"As for the others, I cannot say for sure. While I think I know them fairly well, I don't assume to know everything about them. Gabriel still desires to explore, as he always had. Without a home or family, he was left adrift, latching on to what he remembers and forging a new way with me. Aaron has always been a passive man; he enjoys helping others even if he has yet to fully understand his motivations or to find his own voice. Hakeber seeks answers; you could say she is interested in answers alone, but has yet to fully grasp the meaning and application behind the answers, nor their process. She may be working with the Kampfengruppe; I do not know, but chose to trust her anyway."

"And there are more. Many more, now. The Karnor ghosts, each seeking to live again, existing somewhere between life and death, personhood and echo. My political associates each seek their own goals, and may seek to manipulate me, but I adhere to an altruistic path of using what we find to better the people without enabling war. This may be naive of me; I don't know what will happen when they realize our personal power, or what the future may hold. For now I will believe in my dream and fight to ensure it can survive. Older are than Khattas, who sought the Markers for inscrutible reasons. I am not their choice of emissary; it seems I've had to take up more than one Marker and machine, but I have also followed the poem, even inadvertantly, so I cannot be sure I am not what they hoped for. They may even be using me, having manipulated my mind through Melchior."

After pausing to drawn in a breath, Tasha speads her arms and concludes, "Gabriel tells me if I don't micromanage things will fall in to place. Whatever my associates may believe, I will continue working towards my goal beside those I care about. I even care about you, Yama; I came here to try and rescue you, as I did the others. I believe in people, AI included; though I am told that is naive as well."

"The Khattas seek power and wealth," Yama notes. "That is there primary motivation. I do not know of the Kampfengruppe you speak of. Is the Expedition stranded, or is there communication still with the homeworlds?"

"At first I thought we were cut off, but there appears to be limited communication between the factions and their home worlds; how much exaclty, I do not know. What I do know is that the Khattans recently attempted to fool the Silent-One -- now called 'Savanite' -- government on the world of Sinai in to handing their agent secrets and power, including Balthasar. The Silent-One homeworld sent an emmissary to seek their new ruler, takking their chosen applicant back with them. Caltrop Station appears to still be active and populated. Other than that, I located a Khattan scout vessel observing the Expedition cities; she informed me she was waiting to see if the Expedition "had failed," and report back. It seems that certain elements of galactic civilization continue to be interested in our work here, and there may be far more communication going on than what I have personally witnessed," answers the hybrid.

Lord Yama goes silent, floating behind the mirrors now and looking a bit like a long bit of seaweed waving in the current. "Have they forgotten the Markers?" he finally asks.

Tasha watches the dragon, her face a mask. "I cannot say for sure. The Khattan agent's operation included acquiring Balthasar, but I cannot say for certain if this is because of an interest in the Marker, or because Balthasar's extensive modification are valuable to them. I've spoken with several scholars, politicians, and other groups, but their interest in the Marker has been modest at best. For most, they seem to be curiosities, though I've also concealed our efforts to retrieve them as we try to ascertain the impact they may have. And finally, I've been piloting Melchior in the open for some time now, and no one has approached me with interest in its connection to the Marker, save the Khattan scout I have taken to calling 'Harmonia,'" she answer.

Lord Yama floats closer.. and casually licks the ice-mirror of the Empress with a leafy tongue. "So would you say that none of the former Expedition powers is actively following your progress?" he asks.

"Oh, yes," Tasha adds, brows raising, "I almost forgot: I've spoken to one of Henry Cannan's clones; he didn't express much interest in the Marker either. I'm uncertain how truthful he was being, though; he is the political leader of Sinai, and his position would naturally incline him to manipulation and subtly." She then shakes her head. "I know I'm being spied upon, but no one has revealed an interest directly or indirectly. If they have one, they have succeeded in concealing it from me."

The woman, after eying the dragon a moment, answers, "If I am, I am not aware of it. We are far in to the Beast Lands, and we're at the bottom of a pit and I'm probably laying face down on your cockpit floor. If that weren't enough, you're quite dangerous and we've traveled light. If there is a spy, it would mean Hakeber or an as yet unseen stalker. Neither possibility sounds particularly likely to me." After a second or two, she also asks, "Why are you licking that mirror?"

"It reflects something that does not exist," the pseudo-Celestial-dragon replies. "Tell me of the Kampfengruppe. What is their connection to the Markers and the Progenitor?"

Interesting; what could that mean? "The Kampfengruppe is a Fleet element composed entirely of Humans, with a Human-centric philosophy and a milinat culture. They are the descendants of the Teutons, an element of humanity that isolated themselves on the world of Fafnir, which they colonized. The information I have gathered suggests they are awake of the Markers, and that their culture may derive from Marker-related mysteries; they may even possess the Origin Marker of Humanity," the half-Vartan replies.

"Is it your opinion that they are also seeking the Progenitor in this star system?" Yama asks next, no longer licking the Empress.

"They appears to be engaging in exploratory efforts, but I have seen no indication of their interest in me, my Titan, nor the Markers. If we are engaged in a race, it is one I haven't been informed of. However, it may be possible they simply have not realize what I'm doing. It is also possible their internal doctrine has warped over the centuries, and they no longer concern themselves with the Markers," Tasha explains.

"Although," and here Tasha taps her muzzle, "They are allied with the Sinaian Khattan government. That's an interesting alliance, but so far, it's not one that has shown to be more than innocent."

"Exploratory efforts," the dragon echoes. "Can you give more details on those?"

Tasha nods. After, spreading her hands, she elaborates, "They've allied with the Emirate, the seat of Khattan governance of Sinai, which is the largest collection of Khattans on the planet and a likely locale for their planetfall. The exploratory efforts have utilized the 'Offworld Legion' for 'muscle' commanded by Kampfengruppe officers. As it was explained to me, the Legion's purpose to helping to facilitrate trade, and to explore. As the Kampfengruppe control Gateway Tower on the Abaddonian side and the Emirate controls the Sinai side, this could simply be an alliance of convience through mundane, overlapping interest in profit."

A few seconds later, she suddenly asks, "I don't mean to be rude, but why ask me, if you can read my mind?"

"I can only read the parts that relate directly to you," Yama notes. "It is not like accessing a book. When you think on these questions, I can glean more. For instance, I know now what you mean by Gateway Tower. You have access to the other worlds of the system without the need for spacecraft."

The young woman nods at th explaination, then answers, "Yes, though it is imperfect. Only a small group can traverse the Tower, and then only once a day. We'll still need spacecraft for any serious exploration efforts, especially on worlds the Gateway does not reach, or reaches in a way that prohibits overland travel." She then tilts her head and asks, "Is there anything else you'ld like to know? Still thinking of eating me?"

"I have one more question, but first I will entertain any you have for me.. aside from the eating you one for now," Yama offers.

The hybrid barks a laugh. "Keeping a girl wondering, I see! Well, I suppose it's more interesting than all the blatant attempts at my life, no romance." She grins, then asks, "How about these: how have you remained functional, why have to attacked local lifeforms, and is the Marker nearby?"

"As for the first, I am very, very old," Yama notes. "You seem to confuse me for the AI of the Titan, however. I am not that, but the living plant that powers it. I must defend the wreck, as those that once held that position have failed at it, allowing an indigenous creature to steal away an important artifact. The Marker is nearby, yes."

"The access key, you mean? You may not believe in predestination, but as it so happened, I came across that creature's ghost. It seems he was cursed for taking the artifact, and gave it to me. As for your being the plant, I'm quite surprised to hear this: I had assumed your wre the Titan's AI, since evolved from its exposure to the SPF -- something I have seen with other AI. This is part of why I was more aggressive than I might have been when speaking to you. But Ihave a few more questions." Count off on her fingers, Tasha asks, "Is your duty as guardian something the Khattans assigned to you, or does it predate them? Perhaps, it predates contact with the Fleet species? Are you one of the Markerless species, touched by the Progenitor?"

"The Khattans are not the ones who set this all in motion, but they did supply much of the materials and support," Yama explains. "I do not think were every aware of me. I am older than the Celestial Empire itself, so predate all of the space-faring efforts of the Expedition species. I may well be a direct, unique creation of the Progenitor, hidden away in a form that would not arouse suspicion, but would be noticed and used. I have never communicated with another of my kind, although I am aware that they powered the Celestial motherships."

"I am sorry you had to endure such loneliness, for what it's worth." Tasha inclines her head a moment, then continues. "Your unique existence makes it difficult for me to ascertain your values -- though it is never easy. However, I believe we should all have a place with others. You are welcome to a place with us, after we are finished here. I was going to ask, 'why did so many people have to die for this?', but without contact, I have seen empathy and compassion decay, if they were even there to begin with. And, what's done is done. I don't like it, but it seems you've suffered too, and I am not here to create more of it."

"I am not an animal," Yama notes. "I do not have emotions, or morals, or social needs. You need to understand that some beings will be sapient yet completely alien to you. Especially if you seek out the Progenitor, for who can comprehend what such an entity must be like? What does it expect from its creations? What do you think it will ask of you, or what you can ask it?"

"Then in this, I am no better or worse prepared than any other. In truth, I seek the Progenitor neither for guidance nor ressurance. I have met my creator; I know my place and my goals. While these may change with contact, I will not be lesser should the Progenitor not speak with me. I have my beliefs and my values, and among them is compassion for others, even if they do not value it; even if they cannot comprehend it. I mean no insult in my offering of comfort or place. It is just my way -- the values by which I live. I would offer the same to the Progenitor," Tasha explains.

The odd dragon suddenly.. grins. "How very interesting. You were never a part of the mission, never a true believer.. You have no need to revere the being you seek, no need for absolute truths or desire for god-like power. It is a knot you want to untie. A puzzle. Something to challenge yourself.. ah. The Empress. I understand now. Your journey is not about the Marker or the Progenitor at all, is it? It's about you."

Tasha grins right back. "And I'm about others -- at least I try to be. It's never that easy, of course. And somtimes, well, there's these puzzles that seem too interesting to put down." She winks. "And maybe I'd just like to say 'thank you,' and maybe get to know our maker a little better. I do like to talk to people, after all; I guess that's also about me." She shrugs, then holds up her hands, smiling. "I guess you got me."

"The Nagai Marker is in the wreck of the Lucifer," Yama says. "Seek the shrine of Sutaranakh. And mind your wings in the Sea without Lees, Bird of Hermes."

Tasha bows her head. "Thank you for the conversation. I apologize for trapping you, but please, try to be more merciful from here out. And if I may ask, what is the status of Caspar's AI and structure?"

"Dormant," Yama notes. "The environment here is not conducive to quantum electronic computation."

"And I assume you need this body to continue living?" The hybrid asks as she lifts her head. "What will you do, now that your duty as guardian is done?"

"If you ever decide you want a change, we'll be on Abaddon." Tasha takes a deep breath, looking around a moment before she says, "I guess I'll be leaving Caspar here, for your sake. The hunter will be disappointed, but I suppose we can't have everything, now can we?" After looking back to her host, she smiles. "And here I was all set to welcome you home and offer to fix your wings."

"But ... I suppose that's it then. You don't need my company, and the Marker awaits. Gabriel will be getting worried; he does need my company, as much trouble as I am sometimes. I should be going, unless you would like anything else from me ..?" The young woman's ears shift forward, ready to listen.

"Be careful," Lord Yama advises. "Although I can not say what you should be careful of, besides the possibility of booby traps in Lucifer."

"How mysterious. I'm sure I can stumble through somehow." Tasha then walks over and reaches a hand out to pat the dragon's nose. "You're not so bad for someone who tried to kill me. I guess I can forgive you this time." She then leans over and kisses the god on the same spot. "There. You'd better let me go before I get even more sentimental."

"Goodbye, Bird of Hermes," the creature says, and Tasha's vision turns.. green. There are noises and discomfort and leaves curl away from her face, revealing a shouting Karnor above, outside the hatch, demanding oil or fuel from Toth.

And then Tasha is staring at the floor. "Nngh, why do I always ... " Her grumbled complaint is cutoff as she sits up, her armored right hand wiping the drool off her face before she staggers to her feet. Graphing the hull, she takes a moment to steady herself before she yells, "I'm all right! I'm all right. Give me a moment and I'll be out."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Gabriel yells down, as the vines begin to retreat and unblock the hatchway.

"Yes, Caspar and I had a little talk, and it's all right now. I'm just a little dizzy from the connection. Help me out, and we'll get clear," Tasha calls back. Pushing off, the young woman stumbles towards the exit hatch, then begins climbing her way out.

"Did you hurt my dragon?" Toth asks, as Gabriel reaches in to help pull Tasha back out of the cockpit.

It takes some work, as Tasha is heavier than she looks even when unarmored. But, eventually, she's out and atop the dragon. After brushing her hair from her face, she says, "I actually spoke with the seed powering Caspar. It's ancient, older than the Celestial Empire -- and the guardian of the path to Adam."

"The Seed?" Hakeber asks, from the edge of the pit, "You mean the glowing plant?"

"'The Plant' is quite articulate when you get to know him. He says that he may be unique among his fellows, possessed of sentience. We should attempt to recover or rescue any such seeds from here on out though, in case he's not a unique entity," Tasha explains. She frowns as she glances back towards the cockpit. When she looks back, she adds, "Oh, and it seems like I passed the test."

"What test?" Gabriel asks, still not letting go of Tasha. "What are we supposed to do with Caspar now?"

"Oh, well, he had been waiting thousands of years for someone to come along, find the Markers, and reach Adam. He thinks he may be a safeguard placed with the Celestial Empire to manipulate and direct. He ... Well, you won't like this, but ... He caused the Mutiny. All of that, to protect the Path and prevent the wrong people from reaching Adam." Tasha glances back at the machine again, head shaking. "He doesn't know companionship or empathy, just the mission given to him. At the risk of sounding crazy, I think we should just let him return to his life in the swamp."

"But the Palasssss!" Toth interjects, gesturing out into the swamp with his spear. "It guards it! If we let it go, we will never get inside."

"What a tragedy that would be," Aaron notes from the side of the pit near Hakeber, although his attention is focused more on the 'dragon' itself. "He's awake, by the way. Listening. I'm pretty sure, that is. There have been slight movements.."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I've been given permission to enter," Tasha insists, thumbing towards the swamp and the downed spacecraft beyond. "We should be fine. He won't bother us anymore." She then pats the top of the machine. "Right, Yama?"

There is a blast of fire from the (quite literal) muzzle of the beast, which sets fire to the ropes and vines that are tangling it up.

"Okay, everyone off the dragon," Gabriel says, scooping up Tasha into his arms and carrying her off over a mangled metal wing towards the edge of the pit.

"I'll take that as yes. We'd better get off before he gets grumpy. Everyone off the dragon!" Tasha agrees as she's carried off.

Moments later, the group stands near the pit as the Titan tears itself free, while Toth seems to vibrate with frustration. "I caught you!" he yells at Caspar. "You remember that! I, Toth the Hunter, caught you! You will respect me for that!"

"It was very impressive," Hakeber tells Toth, a bit flirtatiously. The reptile ignores her though, and complains, "I should have taken a tooth while it was asleep.."

Tasha gingerly reaches out, not quite touching the hunter as she urges, "You might not want to upset him. I passed his test; he may not be so socialable with others." She then gives Hakeber a 'help me out here' look.

The scholar looks lost. "I don't know what to do when they don't find me attractive," she whispers to Tasha.

Caspar finishes freeing itself, and turns to 'stare' Toth in the eyes, before bowing its head for a moment. Then it starts to climb out of the pit.

"I think it would be prudent to not be underfoot," Aaron suggests. "I think we need to build a raft or something anyway to get to the Dragon Palace.."

Tasha blinks at Hakeber, then grins for some reason before looking back to her target. "I guess if flirting doesn't work, I can try my other old stand-b-" She looks about to grab the hunter, but pases when Caspar leans in, then relaxes when Toth escapes uneaten.

"Whew," she breathes, leaning back and running a hand through her hair. "What, I don't get a break after jumping on a dragon and passing the test of the ancients?"

The gesture from the dragon does seem to puff up Toth a bit. "I have a raft," he claims. "But yes, we must celebrate this great victory!"

"For once, I agree. I feel like I'd like nothing more than to sit down and relax for once. This is a real milestone, for all of us," the red woman agrees. Then she looks down at herself. "And I need to get out of this armor. Fred is going to kill me when I get back."

Hugging Tasha, Gabriel says, "I'll make sure you get some rest. Even if I have to tie you down. Which I might do anyway." His eyebrows bob up and down in exaggerated innuendo.

"I'd like that," the woman says with a grin, metal-encased tail beating against his leg. "And you know what? I want to rest. That was exhausting."