Bellerophon Medical Bay
Much larger than the one on the Fenris, Bellerophon's med-bay needs to handle a larger and more diverse crew. Different sections reflect this in how they are laid out and what equipment they contain, set for dealing with Terran, Silent One and Imperial physiologies respectively. Even the hibernation systems are segregated.

In the Terran section, Tasha is blurry. Her thoughts, senses.. even her body feels blurry. Voices around her are auditory blobs, slowly gaining resolution. "Blurb blarg oofle calcium loss was compensated for," one of the voices recites. There's a visual blob that goes with it, slowly resolving into the form of Dr. Caravelli, standing at the side of Tasha's medical bed. A gray blob that he's addressing slowly becomes Gabriel Akkers.

"What about the muscle stim?" Gabriel asks. "Will she have to build all of her strength back.." He pauses, noticing Tasha's eyes open and trying to coordinate their focus. "Tasha?" he asks, turning towards her now. "Can you hear me?"

"Uuh ..?" The figure on the bed groans, her gaze shifting towards Gabriel before sliding away as she fights to keep it steady. Her right hand twitches, then grasps at the bed as she suddenly tries to sit up!

"Take it easy!" Gabriel says, taking hold of Tasha's shoulders to try and ease her up, while Caravelli works the bed controls to make it easier. "You're going to be a bit woozy and weak."

Tasha makes what might be an accepting noise, though she does stop fighting and relax as the medical aparatus rises to bring her head up. Her gaze dart between the two men, her gaze slowly beginning to fix on them as her vision solidifies.

Remiel leans over and shines a light in each of Tasha's eyes. "Okay, you're dilation response is good. Can you tell us how you feel, Tasha?" the doctor asks. What Tasha can feel is.. a bit damp. She's covered in a sheet as well, now that she can see forward along her body.

As the world resolves in to clarity, Tasha's gaze settles on the captain as she fights to pull herself from the mire of a sluggish mind. After staring at him for a while, she asks, "Ga ... bre ... el? Wh-where ...?"

Giving Tasha's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Gabriel smiles and says, "You're on Bellerophon Tasha. You were badly hurt in a Titan fight, and you've undergone some regeneration treatment. Do you remember that?"

"Belle..?" The woman's ears flick and she frowns, or at at least tries to. The result is a bit numb, giving her more of a perplexed look. She thinks on what she's been told, sorting through the jumble that is her mind, and with effort it comes to her. "Baltha-sar .... "

Trisha says, "Tasha's ears flatten as the memories return, though her left can only manage half the distance and sluggishly at that. "I'm s-sorry," she offers."

"Don't be sorry, we're all just glad that you pulled through," Gabriel says. "The Silent-Ones have a medal for you, even."

"A m-medal? Wh-... " The young woman pauses to catch her breath as all the effort to wake catches up with her, closing her eyes a moment before finishing. "W-why?"

"You defeated another Titan in real combat," Gabriel says. "I suppose that's pretty rare."

As her mind dives back in to the sea of her memory, the effort of focusing so far back brings back other memories for the patient. She remembers her life within the tank, the sporadic bouts of conciousness and her life amongst the clouds. The latter gives her a kind of double-vision of self, a sense of being two completely different entities; a sense which lingers in her mind as she reaches farther to the battle with Balthasar.

Her unsteady frown deapens, and she says, "The F-first Ones ... They ... They were ... "

"Don't push yourself," Gabriel says. "You'll need some more recovery time and exercise."

The woman nods slowly, exhaling as she settles back and closes her eyes. "Do you think ... I could ... paint ..?"

"Thank you," Tasha says, smiling a lopsided smile as the left side of her face can't quite manage the expression. "We should talk." She takes a moment to breath as the exhaustion of just being concious creeps up on her. "Later," she adds, exhaling.

"Alright, just rest a bit while Remiel checks you over," Gabriel says, squeezing Tasha's shoulder again and smiling.

Tasha's new hand -- a taloned, avian hand -- feebly reaches up to pat the wolf's arm. "I'll be right ... Right here. G-gods, I'm so t-tired ... "

Remiel manipulates the bed controls, and Tasha feels something cool flow into her neck - she still has the life collar on - which makes her very relaxed and sleepy.

It isn't long before Tasha's hand slides from Gabriel's arm and concousness once again begins to slip away. And for a moment, she wonders if she was ever really awake -- or if she still lay dreaming, lost in another world.

"Just squeeze these as hard as you can," Remiel is telling Tasha as she sits up in the bed. He hands her two padded cylinders. They feel different in each hand, even though they must be identical - the leathery hide of her left hand isn't as sensitive as the pads on her right.

The young woman looks between her two hands, giving each a test squeeze as she feels -- really feels -- the difference between the two limbs. Although she had been exposed to the new areas within the tank, she couldn't say that she had truly been aware of them. They were there in a haze, along with everything else.

And her new limbs aren't the only think that seems alien. Her time with Melchior, living peacefully and needing nothing that wasn't right there in that quiet world has given her a split sense of self. She remembers being that woman, and even with her memories restored, she isn't quite sure if she's the dreamer brough to a new world, or the woman from the memories who dreamed she was someone else.

As she thinks on this, she gives the cylinders another squeeze with more effort. After several more attempts and as the question of identity gnaws at her, she simply decides to ask. "Doctor, there's something that's been bothering me."

"I've been wonder about this world. Am I really awake? Is this who I am?" She asks as she gives the strength tester another go.

"Well, if you accept that I'm real, then yes, you are real and awake," Remiel says with a smile. "As for who you are, what makes you think you aren't you?"

Tasha gives the testing device another, watching as her dissimilar hands try their best. "When Katherine first started to visit me, I didn't know whos she was. I remember living peacefully on an island, and I was content. I didn't want to leave. But the more I talked to Katherine, the more I began to remember. And then I woke up -- or I think I did? -- and here I am. But I still don't know if I'm the woman who lived on the island, the painter, or if I'm the woman that lives in this world. Being here feels a little odd, but I also feel like I've been here before."

Setting down his tablet, Remiel looks to Tasha and says, "You are all of them, Tasha. You're an explorer, a warrior, a mediocre dancer, a decent waitress and maybe now a painter. It's not like you have to be one or the other, or choose just one lifestyle."

"Oh ... " Tasha stares at her hands a moment, then nods. A small, awkward smile comes to her face and she nods again. "I see. I'll try and look at it that way, then."

"You want to know what's really interesting about that though?" Remiel asks, leaning in to whisper, and glancing around to see if anyone is eavesdropping.

"You'll be a different person tomorrow, because of what you experience today," Remiel confides and winks. "Nobody is static."

"Oh," Tasha repeats comprehendingly, if a little lost. "I guess ... I shouldn't worry about it then?" She looks down at her left, adding, "How's my hand?"

"Your left hand is a bit stronger than your right," Remiel notes, going back into doctor mode. "One less finger means fewer muscles, but those muscles and fingers are bigger, and made for gripping. It's something you'll get used to though. Do you play card games?"

"I ... " Tasha cocks her head to the side, forwning as she thinks on the question. It comes to her after a moment, a memory from what feels like ages ago. "I think so? Wait, no ... We used dice, that's right."

"Ah," Remiel says. "It's just that shuffling a deck of cards would be an excellent exercise to help you coordinate your hands together. We were able to prevent extensive muscle loss while you were floating, but your calcium is low and you'll still need to build your leg strength up before you can walk on your own. I also have a few reaction tests for your eyes to perform.."

"Hokay," goes the patient. Watching the doctor expectantly, she asks, "Are we doing those now?"

"Here, close your left eye," Remiel says, and holds up the tablet. It's a holographic view of.. a field of grass, stretching off to the horizon.

"Not green grass," Remiel says. "And not any you'd want to walk on either." After a minute, there's a chime from the tablet. "Alright, that's it for the right eye, so you can close that one and open your left eye."

The woman switches eyes. "I thought so. Sinai is green ... annnd ... so is ... Arcadia?"

"I hear Arcadia is a rainbow of colors," Remiel says, holding the tablet out again. After a few seconds though, Tasha finds herself focusing in on one small area. Something moved in the grass!

"I think I see something," the woman notes, leaning in. "Is the grass supposed to move?"

"Yes, it is," Remiel notes. "As expected, your left eye is more sensitive to movement, like a raptor. You'd be surprised at how much visual processing takes place in the eyes, before the brain knows what it's looking at."

"I never really thought about it," Tasha admits looking at her taloned left hand. "I don't think I really noticed the changes until I woke up. Woke up here, I mean. I'm a bit hazy on what's different. Do you know?"

"You have a new hand, eye and ear that are slightly different from the ones you grew up with," Remiel says. "We need to train your brain to work with them properly. For instance, if you close your eyes.. how many fingers do you think you have on your left hand?"

The woman closes her eyes, flexing her left hand for a moment before admitting, "Five. I can still feel the small finger."

"I feel like I can, but nothing happens. It aches a bit, too," the woman answers.

"There are exercises you can do to retrain your brain to accept having one less finger," Remiel says. "We'll do the same for your ear, which has slightly different muscles and acuity. It will take some time, but you'll eventually be on your feet and ready to take on the world again. Or just paint it, if you like."

"I would like to paint again. I'm not really sure what to do besides that, to be honest. This world feels a little alien, and while you've told me it's real, I'm still trying to decide how I feel about it and what I should do. I remember piloting Melchior, but I also remember being afraid of where I was going and if I was doing the right thing. I'm not sure what to make of those feelings; all I really know is that I'm here now, and I not really sure how I fit in. I don't feel like that person, exactly. But I remember her feelings," the woman admits. Her ears go askew, and she adds, "There were a lot of things that person was ashamed of, and a lot of doubts. I don't know if even she believed in what she was doing. I think she was confused -- and ashamed. I can still feel that shame; I felt is looking at Gabriel when I woke up."

"We all have things we're ashamed of," Remiel says. "Usually.. we're the only ones ashamed about them though. You and Gabriel will work things out, I'm sure. He's very strong, even though he has his own doubts. If you run out of doubts, that's when you should worry the most."

"I think that woman -- me, I mean -- I think she ran out of doubts. She thought she knew the best way and when she started to doub, she became afraid. I did. I became afraid. I, I thought that following my beliefs would lead me to the right place, so I pushed to believe in Balthasar no matter what -- no matter the risks or the cost," the young woman admits, turning to look away. "I'm glad it worked out for the best, but it was a miracle. A part of me thinks that maybe I shouldn't be here. I couldn't even stop Balthasar, and everything I did, it didn't help. I couldn't stop him. Him ... Abaddon. I couldn't stop Abaddon. Because of my pride, the world nearly ended. Because of me."

"But it worked out," Remiel says. "When faced with unknowable consequences, doing what you think is right is the only real decision you can make, isn't it?"

"I don't know. All I know is that if I hadn't come to this world, if I hadn't piloted Balthasar, then it wouldn't have happened. And I wonder, is it really a good thing that I'm here?" Tasha says, turning to look at her new hand and flexing it as she speaks. "I chose to believe in the artificial minds of machines, rather than the minds of living things. I was alured by Balthasar's possibilities, and those of the Markers. And yet I'm still here, and people are happy that I am. I'm going to get a medal. But it doesn't seem right. It's not right."

"For the Silent-Ones, you neutralized a threat," Remiel explains. "Maybe your reach did exceed your grasp there, however. There's a reason why the power of the gods is reserved for the gods, after all. Like the myth behind this ship: Bellerophon. One of the first and greatest ancient hero, slayer of monsters, tamer of Pegasus. Favorite of the gods. But.. he thought he had earned a place at their table, and they destroyed him for that hubris. You were hurt, Tasha, but do you think you should have been destroyed? What's the point of failure if we don't learn from it?"

"I don't know. All I know is that a world nearly ended because of my choices," the woman replies, head shaking. "I wasn't good enough or strong enough to stop it. And I don't know if I can face the world after what happened. What would they think, if they knew the truth? It feels like I've lied so much since the beginning of all this."

"The Markers, Balthasar, the First Ones ... We play with terrible power and legacies that have destroyed millions, and they trust us anyway. We were supposed to help them, and we ... I almost destroyed them! I can't even tell you why it was so important, save that I wanted to believe Balthasar could be more. I wanted to believe. I risked a whole world for one being because I wanted to believe. I've wasted the JEF rsources chasing legends, risking our lives. And I was tempted by the power Balthasar represented. And through it all, I could barely handle the stress, so I turned to Katherine, and Hakeber, and others to get away from the guilt, and the strain, but it just made it worse. And ... ah ... " The woman clutches the side of the bed, panting as her adrenaline winds her. After a few seconds, she continues in a quieter, exhausted voice, "How can one person become so dangerous? What happened to me? When did I go from wanting to help the world to nearly becoming its destroyer? What's wron

"You're mortal, Tasha," Remiel says. "Do you really think anyone else would have done that differently? We are all weak, all limited. We all want to believe we aren't though. The end result, however, is that you destroyed Balthasar and the threat of the Abaddon entity. And if you hadn't done anything? Just left Balthasar in storage? That's just passing on the problem for the future to work out, whether they are ready for it or not. You acted. And in acting there is always risk, but not acting doesn't solve anything, either."

The young woman looks up, blinking. "I ... acted? That's what I told myself, that's ... That's why I brough him here. I remember, I said thAat I would bring him here because I refused to make other generations deal with it. I didn't want them to be burdened by him, and I believed he could, that we all could find a better way that wasn't destruction or avoidance because we were afraid." She stares at the man for a moment, then looks down, smiling a little. "I guess I'm not that bad then, am I. I think I was afraid too ask anyone. I was afraid they would agree with me, so I kept it to myself. I think I know what I should do, now."

"What is it you think you should do?" Remiel asks, smiling now. "Besides the physical therapy I'll be assigning you, that is."

The woman smiles a little more for the joke. "I think I need to try harder, so that the next time something like this happens I'll be better able to deal with it. There's a college on this world, isn't there? When I'm ready, I think I'll ask Gabriel if I can go there when I'm not needed by the JEF. I'll try to learn what I can here, too, and try to rely on Gabriel more. He's probably had to deal with these issues before, but I was always afraid to ask because I thought he would be disappointed, or think I wasn't up to the task. I tried hard not to rely on anyone, for that reason. But, I think now that I ready to learn, again."

"I don't think so. It's hard to remember too far back, the details are hazy and ... I'm not sure what's real or not," the woman admits.

"Well, it was all real for someone, at some time," Remiel points out. "That's the funny thing about experience. You'll probably want to avoid letting Hakeber be your roommate though. I've heard she's a bit wild."

"I remember scared men," Tasha admits about Hakeber. "But there was one ... A professor an ... Eeee. I'm supposed to talk to him. If I want to join, that is. He said he would help me. At least I think he's a he."

"Oh," the woman starts, eyes widening, "Don't we ... I mean, recruits, they're from the Knights aren't they? Or ... did I dream that?"

"The new recruits are coming from the Knights Templar, yes," Remiel says. "The PHTO decided it would be the best way to start, as well cementing a treaty with them. The Templars, after all, are already a multi-cultural organization, and so there wouldn't the problems of integration and security that opening recruitment to the PHTO groups would have."

"Will there be any problems with my being trained at a Templar institution then?" tasha asks, head cocking to the side. Her new avian half making the pose particularly bird like, not the least of which is due to how she favors that eye as she does it. "Are the cadets here?"

"We actually have one recruit here on Belle now: Scholar Clemson," the doctor continues. "I think you're the one who recommended him? He's Fred's apprentice at the moment. I don't see how going to a Templar university would affect things when we're actively recruiting from the same institution."

"I'm not sure how many are being considered for Bellerophon duty, however," Remiel admits. "I think most so far have been for more practical positions in logistics and administration."

"That's good. I don't really want to cause any problems. I think I've had enough problems for a while," the woman admits. She then taps her chin a moment and says, "Clemson, Clemson ... Oh! I thnk he's connected to Hakeber somehow. I remember them being together just before I piloted Balthasar." She coks her head the otehr way, and asks, "Will I get to meet them?"

"I assume you will," Remiel says, "if you follow your doctor's instructions and recover properly. I know they'll want to meet you, after all. You're on the posters."

"Your friend Katherine handled all of the promotional material," Remiel notes. "I don't think yours will be hung up in the enlisted men's barracks like her's are, but that wasn't really the point I think."

"Are they..?" The young woman waves her taloned hand at the left side of her face.

"They're from before your injuries," Remiel admits. "And a bit.. stylized, at that. All according to the latest trend in poster art I assume."

"Oh, well ... I guess it will be fine, won't it?" Tasha smiles a little, then admits, "Though I'm not sure what to do about Katherine."

"Is there something you have to do about her?" Remiel asks. "She's still on base, if you want to see her."

"Could I? I remember her being around a lot in the dream ... I used to paint her, but ... Well, seeing her would be nice," the woman answers, sounding a bit uneasy.

"Do you want to see her here, or wait until you're on your feet?" Remiel asks. "If you're already nervous, this may not be the best position to meet her in."

"It's okay, I don't mind. After all, I saw her a lot in ... " She waggles her taloned hand towards the tubes, " ... there."

"I don't know. Time is ... " The woman shrugs, smiling. "I'm not really sure what it is anymore. Now's the only time I can be sure of."

"Better see me while I'm still here, I guess," the woman confirms. "Don't worry, I'll still do your tests."

"Well, I'll have her administer one of them for me then," Remiel says. "I just won't tell you which one," he adds with a wink. "I shouldn't be long," he notes before leaving the med bay.

With nothing to do but wait, the young woman lays back and holds her left hand up against the light. "So this is me now," she murmurs, turning the hand over and then flexing it. After a while of this she holds one of the talons closer, going 'hmmmm.'

They aren't strange - but familiar. Tasha remembers seeing them for most of her life, since they belonged to her mother. And her new hand resembles that of her mother very closely, even to the same brownish-gold color.

"Mom ... " Tasha breathes as she thinks back, the memories flooding in as the familiar sight calls them forth. She remember riding on her mother's shoulders when she was little, a talon just like the one before her holding her steady. She remember all the food and drinks passed to her by such a talon, and the countless times it helped her up -- and a few times when it knocked her down. The more she thinks about it, the more comfirted she feels and suddenly, the world ceases to feel alien. Her hand stops being unfamiliar. She holds it to her chest, just over her heart.

"Knock knock!" comes a familiar voice, and then Katherine Vesuvius pokes her head into the med bay and smiles at Tasha. She doesn't have her makeup on, so isn't all shiny, and is also wearing regular Expedition military fatigues (albeit ones that are custom tailored). She steps in carrying a tray of food. "You're looking much better with your fur back," she notes to Tasha.

"I feel a lot better, too. I was just thinking how much my new parts resemble my mother's," the patient responds. After fumbling with the bed controls, she's sitting in a much more upright position, waggling her taloned fingers. "Hi, Katherine. It's been a while, or so it feels like."

"Oh my, well.. the saying goes that all girls eventually turn into their mothers, you know," Katherine jokes with a smile, and takes the seat next to the bed. "The doctor says you're ready to try solid food again," she notes, and sets the tray in Tasha's lap. It has several plates and bowls, but they're all filled with.. cubes and spheres. It isn't clear what might be meat and what pastry or vegetable, given the odd presentation, but there are also dipping sauces. "Mr. Invention commandeered the mess hall kitchen. So these are probably tasty.."

"Mr. Invention, he's the man who was always with you, isn't he?" Tasha asks as she examines the meal -- her first real meal in months. "Does he usually make so many ... shapes?"

Remembering the the doctor's suggestion she learn to use her left hand, she tries skewering a few with her talons, ending up with a circle-square pattern on all four digits.

"Not usually, unless they are small sandwiches," Katherine admits. "He likes to experiment though."

"That would explain the name." Tasha tries a bite, sticking her pointer finger in her mouth -- then wincing as she knicks herself. "Ow," she complains, pulling her finger free and eying it, at least until she notices Katherine is watching, then she just smiles and keeps eating like nothing happened. "So, did you come out here just to see me? Or what's left of me?"

"Well, it's also an excuse to see my brother," Katherine says, but grins. "But yes, mostly to see you, and give some design tips."

The finger food is certainly tasty, even if hard to identify. Katherine waves a hand, and says, "Well, for the interior of this ship. It was all bare metal and exposed pipes and dreariness. Also, the cabins for different races needed a lot of work."

"Hey, it's not that bad. Compared to where I used to live, this place is amazing. I have my own room," Tasha points out, realizing as she says it that she's beginning to remember at an increasing pace. she can't quite shake off the feeling of having lived multiple lives, but she's pleased to see that at least they're integrating. "Besides, I like all the metal. On Sinai, metal is -- was -- rare, so it's like if you lived in a house made of wood."

"Dear, there are colors and materials that can influence mood," Katherine explains. "But they don't all work the same for each species. A lot of study has gone into finding a neutral environment that puts everyone at ease."

"I've been told the interior of the Fenris was very Karnor-friendly, for instance," the woman adds.

"Another thing I'm not prepared for, I see." Tasha pops another meat square in her mouth, then simply shrugs at her lack of class. "It was until it was full of fire."

"Fire does only work best in small doses, true," Katherine says. "The doctor said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"I did but I can't remember what it was," the woman admits, sounding sheepish. "My memory comes and goes. I am happy to see you, though. Do you mind staying a while?"

"It's good. I can't promise I won't throw up later, though. Or that I'll remember I ate it," the woman answers, smiling. "So, I seem to remember something about you not wanting to get involved with the JEF? Did something happen? Or am I making things up again?"

"Oh, I couldn't join the JEF," Katherine says. "I'm still a commissioned officer for the Expedition military, after all. But my Public Relations and Marketing group is entirely civilian, and free to work for any client."

"Sounds tricky," the patient admits. "Did anything else happen? Apparently I'm to receive a medal, though I'm not really sure why or if I should turn it down. I'm also thinking of going to school." She pauses. "Am I rambling?"

"I'm used to people rambling around me," Katherine insists. "And generally speaking, it isn't a good idea to turn down an honor of any sort of the Silent-Ones. They tend to take that as an insult, since they feel they are going out of their way to recognize anyone that isn't a Silent-One. And going to school is a wonderful idea! It's something everyone should do if they have the opportunity."

"I think I offended the Archon before the accident, so I guess I should just take my medal and be happy with that. It might be his way of apologizing, too, though I think I'll find him and apologize as well." She peers at the other woman a moment, cocking her head to the side and watching her with her avian eye. "You think so? I've never been to school. I don't think I have, anyway. Except here, if you count this as a school. It's just, I've been thinking, maybe I'm not as prepared as I could be, and that maybe I'm trying to rush ahead. I wasn't able to stop the disaster on my own, and I regret that. I don't think I've ever felt more helpless than I did then. I'd also like to understand who and what I was dealing with, and why Sifran technologies react the way they do."

"The Templars may not have as much information on Sifran technology as the Silent-Ones," Katie notes. "Or rather.. on working technology. The crystals discovered before the Expedition never did anything. So really.. you're more the expert on them than anyone at the University, probably."

"You think so? then that's something I should remedy. I feel like there was a great mystery behind what happened, that aside from the danger, there was a deeper story to tell and that something -- something important -- is going on behind the scenes. Something I, and maybe all of us, may be dragged in to. I want to know what that is. I also think I did a poor job of trying to interact with the being that attacked us; I don't regret the outcome, but I could have handled how that came to be better. I could have asked more questions. I'm also curious about magic, but Abaddon doesn't have any, and I don't think anyone's really studied the way magic and the Sifran artifacts truly integrate -- at least not with the resources we have. I think studying integration and technology might help. And besides, I should learn something more productive than mysteries."

"What? Well, Abaddon's had magic for a few months now.. there are even those wizards from Sinai out near the Gateway Tower," Katherine reminds.

"Oh, that's right. Well, that's good in a way. Maybe I can ask them. I mean, I'd like to focus on the integration between all these elements. Try to understand them from the perspective of the other, and see how they might work together. Or do you think that's not a good idea?" Tasha asks, ears perking unevenly.

"Maybe you could invite one to the university?" Katherine suggests. "Do you actually know any wizards?"

"I know a Mage Thorn. He visited me when I was a child, because of what I am. He was the one who told me that I was born from magic, and you could say he was the one who helped me get over the fear of it by realizing I am magic -- and you can see what happens to me when there isn't any," the patient explains, waving at her half-avian face. "This is probably who I 'really' am, if not for magic. I think I know other mages, too. I remember a Lapi mage, and a cervani woman who was a bit scary. There was a odd sort of woman who I treated rather badly, actually. Um, I didn't really get along well with them until recently, but I'm sure I can work things out. I'm not sure what they'll think about integration and all that, so if that doesn't work, I can try just sticking to ancient technology and engineering."

"The University does like having guest speakers every so often," Katherine notes. "I imagine you'd have a leg up in ancient technology, since you've got Mr. Koelher and working examples."

"I'm sure I can convince Melchior to speak as well. Um, do you think there's something else I should study? Besides leadership and mysteries, I'm not sure what I should pursue. Most of my education comes from trying to meet the needs of the JEF, and my old skills aren't in much demand here. And, well, I'm a bit hazy on everything right now," Tasha says.

"Well, you can try some general history and politics courses," Katherine suggests. "Military history might help as well. You need a broad look at this world, I'd say."

"I'll keep those in mind. Or try to," Tasha agrees, tapping her head with her taloned hand. "To be honest, it sounds like fun. And I can visit you at the ... races?" She lifts a brow questioningly.

"I'll still be in EC most of the time," Katherine says. "It's my main base of operations. But there is the occasional morale tour and such."

"You won't mind if come and visit, will you? I know I've been, well, difficult and I wasn't completely honest about Gabriel. Plus, I might not fit in quite so well as I used to, in Expedition City, I mean. I don't want to cause you any problems," the patient asks.

Katherine pats Tasha's right hand, since it's closest. "Don't worry about things like that, Tasha," she says.

"I guess I should try and relax," the woman admits. "A part of me still wonders if I deserve to be here at all, but Remy reminded me of what I was trying to do and he has a point. It's also why I'm going to enroll, so that I'll be better prepared." She smiles a bit, then asks, "I heard you made some posters?"

"Oh yes, for the recruitment drive," Katherine says. "I think I showed you the mock-ups before. They were pretty much tailored for the Templar students though."

"I'm afraid I don't even remember posing for posters, so I'll have to take your word on it. Have you met the recruits?" The mostly-Vartan asks.

"Most of them, yes," Katherine says. "It's been a mixed showing, with plenty of older, experienced people applying for the political and administrative positions. I was a bit surprised, expecting mostly young students.. but then the Templars have been 'ineffectual' for a long time now, and the older ones probably wanted to accomplish something."

"I'm a little worried that with so many educated people showing up, I won't really have as much to offer. My actual rank is pilot-cadet, so I'm not an officer or even formally acknowledged like some of the others. I've managed to get by mostly by being the only person a available. I guess I was afraid that the JEF wouldn't need me, and maybe was better off without me," the patient admits, ears splaying even as she smiles embarassedly. "But more people are good. I'm looking forward to meeting them, I'll just have to try harder to be more useful. I can't be a cadet forever, right? was it the same for you?"

"Well, I was set on this course from the start," Katherine points out. "And frankly, Tasha, you're much more valuable as a free agent than as someone checking the fine print of treaties and budget reports and counting nuts and bolts. People need to see you."

"Yes," Katherine says, pointing out, "You survived losing part of your head and arm, Tasha. You're alive because of the technology and knowledge of the JEF. That's a big deal. Before now, only the Coalition could deal with that kind of damage, and only by grafting bug parts. And that's not something that always works, either."

"Ah, I've seen the results of that. I know a man in the Pit who has some. I'm sure he'll have something to say when I see him next," tasha says with a wry smile. "I guess you're right, though. I can show how technology can improve our lives and what contributing to the JEF can bring. I'll try to get over being embarassed about it, then. Maybe I can think of ways to be a better 'free agent' too, like learning how to employ my current and eventual skills to help infrastructure like I did in the Pit. That was something I've never felt anything but good about."

"The Pit still needs lots of infrastructure too, it's a neverending task," Katie notes. "But the Pit is also the only place on Abaddon where progress is visible to everyone - that is, to every nation. So small victories there can seem magnified."

"Do you think it would help to continue working there? I've though of using Melchior to help work on the dome and other areas, and maybe getting my hands dirty outside the cockpit could help me regain some of my strength. It'd be a good way to put whatever I learn to work, too. Though, I may have to consign myself to Expedition City if I plan to study," says the patient.

"You can also study at the Winged Citadel there at the Pit," Katherine suggests. "It's where the applicants are interviewed anyway."

"Is it that different from the college in Expedition City? It may be because I visited them for different reasons, but the college in Expedition City seems more of a learning center than the Winged Citadel," Tasha asks.

"They can get you started though," Katherine suggests. "It's normal to start at a Citadel before being accepted into the University."

"That sounds like a plan then," Tasha says with a smile. "I should probably take advantage of the martial training they offer too, considering how I ended up here. It seems like no matter how high a rise, something is always spoiling for a fight. That said, it'll be nice to be able to focusing on learning and self improvement. I've wanted to for a while, but I've never been able to find the time. I guess the accident is a blessing in that sense, as I won't be in shape enough to go in to the field for a while. I can't even stand up at the moment."

"Well, I know that your Gabriel is eager to be with you again," Katherine says with a wink. "You won't have to stand up for that, though!"

tasha muffles a giggle, then grins. "I still need to talk to him, about you and everything else. I've been a bit distant with all the stress and other things that have been happening and it's time that I cleared the deck on that account." The woman takes a deep breath, laying back and looking towards the ceiling. "I thought we'd be able to talk more, but my body is telling me otherwise. I think I'll take a nap for a while, if you don't mind? And Katie? Thank you for coming to help me."