Silent-Ones Embassy, Banquet Hall
What was once a conference room in the Rephidim Embassy of Elamoore has been converted into a banquet hall for the Silent-Ones in the Pit of Himar. The long, low table requires that one sit cross-legged on seat cushions.

Once again Tasha finds herself amidst identically dressed (and sized) cheetahs, only able to tell them apart by their half-masks. Only she and the Archon stand out at opposite ends of the long table. There's no feast set out this time, however - broken pieces of Titan armor cover the table.

"It has been almost a generation since a Titan of the People has engaged in combat with a foe of equal strength," Strength-of-Stone signs. "Tonight we honor the victor, although she is not of the People. We have already given her the honor of a Name for her past efforts, and thus we may consider her one or our own in this regard. Winged-Gift has bested the Seraph Titan, which we thought to be invincible and beyond the control of mortals. In doing this, she has prevented a great evil from emerging into our world, one which would have worn the face of the People and as it destroyed us. We have been saved that shame."

This time, Tasha is in attendance in her Joint Expeditionary Force uniform with Apollyon's sword as her dress sword. The transition from armor to the formal clothing of her organization was a careful one. Not only does she feel she must avoid the appearance of undue influence over her, the transition from military clothing to formal, non-combat atire represents an end of hostilities and a return to peace.

As she considers this and the Archon's words, she remains still and watching. Her hands rest on her lap, Vartan over Karnor. The Archon's words about her purpose and nature in life have done much to sooth her anxiety over what happened; She knows now that whatever else she may be, or whatever she feels, she is still a dragonslayer. She fights because she desires to, yes, but also so other need not -- and in many cases cannot. It is for that she tempers her call to battle with purpose and intent.

The other pilots all turn to Tasha now, dipping their heads in respect. Tomorrow's-Hope also gives her a 'thumbs up' gesture, his hands in lap and not visible to the Archon, but he's sitting to Tasha's right so she has a better view.

"As is traditional, a piece of the fallen Titan has been crafted into a medal," Strength-of-Stones signs. "Is there anything you wish to sign before you are presented with it, Winged-Gift?"

It's a struggle for the woman to keep her face straight at the thumbe's up. She's always known the Archon's Titan society to be an eclectic bunch, but given the formality of Silent-Ones in general, it's always a surprise to ehr when they show it. When she is questioned if she will speak, she nods.

"Yes, Archon," she replies a moment later. "I would like to speak a few words regarding the Seraph -- that which I call Balthasar -- and the entity itself. I intended to save some of this for a formal report before the Council, but it seems to me this information is best spoken now."

Everyone gives Tasha their full attention now. The masks actually help to make her feel less self-conscious about it though.

Tasha smiles inwardly as she realizes this will be easier than she expected; After all, the event was a difficult one and the information may yet prove more so. "/The Seraph was not always such, it was created by the ancient Savanite Empire, an Empire of Silent-Ones that forsook their prior beliefs and instead engaged in conquest, magical research, self-importance, and enslavement. The lesson of that culture is plain to see, so I will sign know more of it, though it is important to remember when I sign to the Seraph, for in their image he was remade. An oribital invasion did not come; instead, something more insidious destroyed them: their own corrupt hearts and ill intent lead to their downfall. Later, an agent of the Khttas sought to corrupt yet again, and nearly succeeded. He would have then been the pilot of the Seraph instead of me. And so we see his great power unused, the fear of him not the fear that brought their end. Many have spoken of his power but I disagree that i

t was the greatest: No, I sign to you the greatest power is in the heart and the mind. It was corruption that destroyed that Empire, and corruption that came to steal the Titan. It is likewise that such disaster may be resisted. Do not fear power. Do not fear to use it. Think instead of the heart and mind, and consider always where you are going. It is not power that corrupts: it is that we are corrupt, and power simply reveals this to us. That is the lesson I have learned from the Seraph and from my time upon this world. I tell it to you now that you may understand the nature of that victory./"

"Well stated," Strength-of-Stones signs. "A reminder that our struggle is ever one against corruption. Of losing our path, our faith and our honor. If our souls cast a shadow, then it is because we are no longer looking towards the Star."

Tasha inclines her head. "/There is a bit more I would sign, please forgive my monologuing but I feel that it is important./" She waits a moment for everyone to appear ready, then she signs, "/The second lesson is that of assistance, for I did not achieve victory alone. In truth I was defeated when I fought that corrupting power alone. It was greater than I, faster, more adept at Sifran technology and implaccable. I could neither harm it nor stop it, and so it cast me out of teh Seraph and held me impotent, that it might then corrupt me as well. And so it would have, had not help arrived. With the arrival of my machine and other assistance, I was able to claim victory. And so you see: I who held the greatest martial strength upon this world was defeated, because I could not face every threat and be unassailable. I am just one woman, and there is much I do not know and cannot do. That fearful power was taken from me easily, but with help, I was victorious. It is a reminder that we are greater together t

"The third lesson is a simple and direct one: there are elements on these worlds that do not care for us. That wish us gone. They are likely the source of Sifran artifact corruption. Be wary of them, for they come in many forms, and they know their own technology better than us."

The pilots bow their heads in reverence. "Winged-Gift," the Archon signs. "Please approach."

The victor rises, then approaches the Archon as bidden. When she arrives before him, she kneels, bracing herself with a hand due to the instability of her digigrade stance in that position.

The Archon opens the box before him, and removes the medal. The sash is black and gold, the colors of a cheetah, while the medal itself is a rectangle, the top and bottom being half the length of the sides. Embedded in the rectangular frame is an optical circuit board, the tiny junctions casting rainbows from the ambient light. Strength-of-Stones places it over Tasha's head and neck, and gestures for her to stand up.

Tasha considers the medal even as she rises. It is simple, but it's components are rare; She decides that this fits very well. After all, in the end, the victory was simple: win or lose. Victory or defeat. But within those two choices, an infinite cascade of possibility, meaning, and depth. It was a singular victory that will never come again, just as its material is from the unique Titan. She feels that she'll likely be meditating on the medal for years to come as she stands fully.

"You wear the heart of your fallen foe," Strength-of-Stones signs. "It was fashioned from the primary activation circuit."

"Thank you Archon. I cannot help but feel that the Titan's heart was the least considered of its many components," the young woman signs in return, bowing her head.

"I believe the pilots wish to have you to themselves for a time," Strength-of-Stones signs, his ears wiggling. "I will leave you to their care, since even I am not to be privy to all of their customs."

"If I do not return, please sign well of me," Tasha signs as she rises, the hint of a smirk playing under her mask. "Thank you for taking the time to honor me and for your work with the remaisn of the Seraph."

Strength-of-Stones bows to Tasha, then winks at her and leaves the chamber. The other pilots stand and start to crowd around Tasha.

"Hi!" Tasha signs, waggling the fingers of her other hand to the assembled. "I can sure monologue these days, can I not?

"At least your knuckles do not crack when you do," Tomorrow's-Hope signs, and takes Tasha's left elbow to guide her towards the door. "Now you must pay the price for defeating a Titan, however," he signs.

The woman yelps as she's pulled towards the door. "There is more?" Tasha signs in mock-panic. "I think I can take you all!" Then she laughs.

Tasha is led down into the basement, but instead of going towards the gym she's taken to a room she's never seen. It looks like a classroom - rows of seats on tiers, with a blackboard and large table facing them. Several cabinets are present as well, each glass-faced and holding.. miniature models of Titans, military vehicles from all of the PHTO members, and even canal monsters. Two models are already on the table though: Melchior and Balthasar. The one for Balthasar isn't exact - it looks a bit like a Lawbringer painted to match the ornate styling of the modified Magi and with wings attached.

"This looks very familiar," Tasha notes as she pulled along. "Is this some sort of educational facility for duels?"

The pilots begin to take their seats, while Tomorrow's-Hope leads Tasha to the table. "This is our mission briefing and review room," the pilot signs. "You will reenact the battle for us using the models, please. For convenience, you may speak aloud."

"Oh, that ... " Tasha pauses before the models, picking them up as she studies them both, one in each hand and her gaze shifting back and forth between them as she thinks. I'm going to have a problem if tehy ask how Melchior arrived. The battle itself was straightforward, at least the part I can remember. I'll just have to hcome up with something if they ask about the details I don't know or can't say.

"Well, hokay then ... Everyone take your seats and I'll begin." The young woman walks around the podium, standing behind it with a Titan in each hand. "Everyone set?"

The pilots all nod. It's eerie that they all do it in unison. The models are well made, almost entirely metal and fully articulated. The Melchior one must have been made by Titan maintenance crew, since it's incredibly accurate.

The Melchior Titan and the Seraph are put facing each other, then Tasha moves them around so that the Melchior is holding the Seraph fromw aht looks to be a plummet off the podium. "Unable to counter the demon's infection of the Seraph's systems, and with a great deal of control already lost, I attempted self-destruct teh Titan manually by throwing it off the cliff in to the ravine. This is why the battlefield was so close to the ravine, as it was my last ditch attempt to destroy the machine. However, the Melchior had been dispatched and interupted the process, damaging the Seraph as it did so and interfering with its mechanisims." The Titans are then moved to face each other. "However, the Melchior was still outmatched and lacking a pilot. When the Seraph -- now under complete control of the demon and so I will refer to it as such -- attempted to use its gravitational attack, I attempted to interfere with this process by blowing the hatch off, thus attempting to distract it. Thankfully the ear

lier damage also prevented it from using much of its gravitational powers, so while the gambit was not necessary for that, it did allow me to return to my own Titan for combat."

"What were these gravitational powers?" one of the pilots signs. "Did it have a stator-based weapon?"

"The Seraph appears to have been formed from a combination of Khattan -- that is, Khattan Trade Coalition -- technologies, Savanite Empire magic, and Sifran artifacts. It was capable of manipulating both gravitation and electromagnetisim. You may remember the explosion that occured shortly before the battle? That was a test of its gravitation powers -- a minor test. It was fully capable fo causing thermonuclear fushion events, crushing a Titan in to a severely reduced shape, and tunneling through space/time," the young woman answers. "In short, it carried weaponry at or above the level of Expedition Fleet capital ship."

This causes some motion among the pilots. They can't mutter, but their fingers do twitch a bit. "How did Melchior get to you without a pilot? Is there a special homing mode?" Tomorrow's-Hope signs.

"Apparently there is. I was unaware of it, but it appears that it is so. I don't know how to reactivate it, however," Tasha answers, wondering if that will be enough. A part of her begins to wonder if she shouldn't be honest here -- and she wonders if lies now may cost lives later. It would be bad if another event like this happens and they think they can win with just physical damage, she considers.

"It was difficult to ascertain. It appeared to have energy limits, but I do not know if that was because the old instrumentation could not read all its sources of power or if it still held power locally and its power was finite. It was capable of flight without conventional engines, and its weaponry was far in excess of anything I have ever seen. The cockpit was elegant and simple comparatively, much like your own but with greater electronic assistance, and its AI was coherent and helpful, if somewhat aggressive. It was not, however, malevolent until the infection. You could describe it as being singleminded, forward, and combat-oriented, though it was willing and able to carry out missions other than combat," Tasha replies.

"An Artificial Mind is not standard in our Titans," Tomorrow's-Hope notes. "Do you feel it was necessary to the functioning of the Titan or was it a distraction?"

"I find the artificial minds are a difficult subject. All of the Magi Titans are sentient once activatd, and thus people if not exactly like we are people. They are very single minded and helpful, but I do not like using them as tools. In that way they are a good reminder that we live among others, and can help a pilot reason through problems logically, process other information while you handle other tasks, automate systems in the case of emergency or convience, and otherwise act as a co-pilot might. If I had to say whether they are good co-pilots or not, I would say that they are. The AI is a good part of the effectiveness of the Melchior and would also have been of great help in the Seraph. Also, many systems essentially rely on AI or mock-AI, including the full-depth system of Melchior which slavesmy own mind to the machine to allow faster-than-organically-possible reaction while still using my mind for decision making," explains the makeshift instructor.

"As someone with wings, would you sign that the 'AI' is necessary for flight functions?" another pilot asks.

The red woman shakes her head, explaining, "It does appear that it might be if control interface is kept to the absolute minimum and neural connections are not used. However, as neural connections alow for near-infinite control interaction, and as additional controls can be added for fligth, I would say that they are not strictly necessary. They are simply helpful, but not required. There are workarounds."

"If you had been restricted to manual force-feedback controls, do you think you could have defeated the Seraph in its damaged state?" a different pilot signs.

"As Melchior could not have reached me without his AI, and as I was fighting with a large part of my face, left hand, brain trauma and significant blood loss, I would say that victory would have been impossible. Melchior's AI roused me from my unconcious state, defended me until I could board, then manipulated my sensory perception to mask most -- but not all -- of the lack fo focus that comes with injury. I believe at the time I was so significantly injured that even the system could not sync correctly to mask it all, but it masked enough that I could fight," is Tasha's answer.

Another pilot hesitantly signs, "These Magi Titans violate all of the ancient treaties on the limiting of advanced weapons systems. They can clearly outmatch any Expedition-legal Titan. What foe were they expected to face?" This question seems to make many of the pilots a bit uncomfortable.

Tasha pauses, watching the pilot for a moment, then says, "They are not solely combatants, and they are not legal according to the old regulations, as you have deduced. The Fleet was funded by the Khattans, by in large, and the Khattans were the major technological suppliers of the time. They could and would routinely field machinery in excess of that which the other nations were permitted. However, as you undoubtedly suspect, these machines were added in secret. They are listed as scouts but that is a cover story. Their ultimate purpose is part defensive, part investigative, and part religious. There were elements of the Fleet that suspected the Sifran entities existed and that other mysteries were here and worth investigating. For the purpose, the Magi were created," the woman answers at length.

"But.." the pilot starts to sign, only to have his hand held in check by the pilot next to him. "We are not here to discuss ancient history, but to review the tactics used in this battle," the interrupter signs with his free hand. "Please continue the demonstration, Winged-Gift."

Tasha inclines her head. "Thank you," she murmurs, albiet somewhat distractedly as she glances towards the questioner one last time.

After picking up the Titan models again, and pausing to collect her thoughts, the woman says, "Once I was aboard and after retreating long enough to collect myself and focus, the battle began in earnest. The Seraph was not able to utlize its Sifran powers, so it was forced to engage in standard melee combat with its dual vibra-edged scimitars. As the Seraph had not moved and was confused by its inability to use its abilities, I took the inititive and charged the Titan using the flight system, providing me the advantage of power, speed, and inititive."

Tasha picks up the two Titans and angles Melchior's blades just so, then does the same for the Seraph before putting it back down. She then rushes the black Titan past the gold, showing how it struck the arm. "The Seraph's arm was then severed." She moves the Melchior past the other. "I then over flew the target out of range, using the dust kicked up to mask my escape and hide my next move. The high iron count of the sand on this world is useful for sensor interference."

"Did you choose the arm as a target of opportunity or was it the best target for that particular movement stratagem?" the pilot signs. "Or was there some other reason?"

"The arm had already been damaged by Melchior's grip on it as purchase for preventing both the Seraph and I from plummeting in to the gorge," Tasha answers. "The arms are also the primary mode of defense and offense when the Seraph could not use its Sifran weapons. Thus, removing the arm was both made easier by the damage, and successful strikes to it would reduce the threat the machine posed and increase my advantage significantly. This was especially useful for the next step."

"Using the dust cloud as cover, I prepared my second attack. I brought my Titan in to a roll such that I could beginto reduce speed, and quickly change facing, before setting the engine output to full to rapidly slow and then return th way I came. This is not a manuver I would have chosen normally -- I believe at the time I was having some difficulty distinguishing the Titan's body and my own, and so I used a manuver more suitable for my body than his own. Thankfully the manuver was effective despite some of the damage it incurred, and I was quickly approaching for my second attack," Tasha explains. She then demonstrates the roll with the models.

"However, I didn't want to repeat the same movement, and thus I employed another risky gambit here: anticipating the Seraph's block, I hurled one of the two shaard weapons ahead of my advance. As its entire edge is a cutting surface equal to the Seraph's, and with the weight and motion my approach imparted it, it was nearly impossible to block once in the air. This arrival of the shaard within the Seraph's vision was timed with my emegence from the cloud."

Tasha now moves the models so the the Melchior is in he air above the Seraph. "Thus I opted to strike in a one-two hit. The shaard, even if somehow dodged or blocked, would present a lethal distraction to cover my approach from a seperate direction. The Seraph did not block or evade, and so was impaled as I landed infront of it and cleaved through its attempt to block and in to the body itself. I then released my weapon -- as it had become wedged -- and used the active cutting on the Melchior's talons to tear it apart in an outward ripping motion from the center."

This seems to agitate the pilots a bit. Tomorrow's-Hope signs, "It is unheard of to engage in combat without a weapon. But our Titans do not have weaponized claws."

"Thrown weapons are new," another pilot comments. "We should explore that option more, with lances or spears."

"In combat, everything you may access should be considered a weapon," Tasha notes, putting the two Titan's down and holding up her own two hands. "Whether it is your sword, your hands, feet, words, or even some dust on the ground, all have a situation in which they may be effective. A weapon is simply a tool designed for combat, but this is something of a distraction. That which is not designed for combat, or appears less useful, may be superior based on the variables."

The woman then nods. "Throwing weapons can be quite effective, as can the various guns, rockets, and other missile and energy weapons available to us. The advantage of range cannot be underestimated, but should not be over relied upon, and its negatives should always be taken in to account."

"We should restart the hand-to-hand melee program," Tomorrow's-Hope signs. "And see about making anti-kaiju modifications to the Lawbringer's standard package." This causes a lot of glances to be exchanged between the pilots.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Tasha asks, brows raising as she scans her audience.

"I would suggest considering pairing Titans and using a system of mutual support and assistance, with one Titan specializing in melee weaponry and tactics with limited ranged capability, and ither other being equipped oppositely, specializing on ranged attacking and with limited melee. In this way the team can cover each other's weaknesses, be effective in all scenarios, and split the duty of carry so many weapons. Equipping a single Titan with sufficent ranged and melee weapons would weigh it down and present other issues. I believe the two-Titan system is the best use of resources and training," the mostly Vartan suggests.

"That is sensible for combat," Tomorrow's-Hope agrees. "Would you be interested in participating in some of the training exercises?"

At that, Tasha smiles. "Of course, I wouldn't recommend something I wasn't willing to support. I can't provide any weapons except the ones I already have, but I can help with training and help you plan out equipment from what's available."

"I was thinking more of hand-to-hand Titan combat," Tomorrow's-Hope signs, his ears giving a slight wiggle.

"Oh, I think I see your 'plan'," Tasha notes, wiggling her ears right back. "But I accept anyway. Just to warn you: I plan to take lessons at the Winged Citadel. I expect you all to be prepared!"

The pilots all grin. Maybe they're bored with fighting monsters.. or just want to test themselves against a combat veteran.

"So, while you're all dreaming of beating me, any other questions?" The red woman asks as she picks up the two Titan models and begins returning them to the case.

"What was the killing blow?" a pilot signs. "And what were your emotions during the battle?"

"I believe it was the tearing apart of the Seraph. By scattering its pieces the, for lack of a better word, cohesion of the entity was scattered too widely and was unable to maintain its form, dissipating. To be honest, I wish I understood more of the 'how and why' of what it was doing and how it was destroyed, but it is enough that it was, for now," Tasha answers. She pauses, kneeling by the shelf as she holds the Melchior Ttan in her hands. "As for my emotions ... Rage, pure rage. I have never hated or feared soemthing more in my life than I did that demon. It made a liar out of me, it mocked my faith, it made me powerless, and it threatened to not only destroy all I loved, but to force me to watch Melchior die. To watch everyone I love die. And to make me do it with my own hands as it consumed me and made me like it was. It-" The woman pauses, looking down at the model as it begins to crack under her grip. She carefully removes it, puts it deliberately and lovingly in its place, then sits down

facing the group. "I killed the demon and spat in its face as it died, rubbed its failure in its face as I tore it apart. And to this day I cannot say it was undeserved, but I never knew that was in me until that moment."

Tasha spreads her hands, head shaking as she looks down. "It offered me the world, you know. Take its hand and ruin the world, and become a god."

"I will remember not to make you angry at me," Tomorrow's-Hope signs, looking completely serious. Another of the pilots signs, "Would you say your response was female in nature?"

Tasha blinks at that, looking up. "I don't know..? It was my response. I'm not sure how else to describe it. But I know I enjoyed it, I exulted in the victory and in making it suffer as it had made me."

The room is full of male pilots, of course. Tasha has never seen a female Silent-Ones pilot. The assumption was always that their Titans required a lot of physical strength to operate - but there may be social or psychological reasons as well.

The woman considers this for a long moment, and then asks, "Is there something I'm not seeing? I've never seen a female Silent-Ones pilot, amd that question seemed very, well, specific and maybe culturally initiated. Is there something more that I don't know?"

"It is traditional that women are not soldiers among the People," Tomorrow's-Hope explains. "This is not due to them being considered weaker or timid, but because of how they fight. Men can fight to victory, but women may choose to fight to destruction. Once they start, it is not so easy for them to control themselves or hold back."

"Is that so?" Tasha asks, reaching up and running a hand through her hair. "That can't be universally true, can it? People are so different, and I have met so many different sorts fo women. But I see the same trend with the Expedition and I know that wasn't present during the time when the Fleet was founded. It's a little disturbing to me, to see how little faith in women this world can have."

"We respect their capacity for cruelty," Tomorrow's-Hope counters. "Of course I cannot sign for the humans or Karnors. There is virtually no distinction in how males and females of the Celestial Empire or Confederacy behave that I have seen."

"I have noticed that they do not show bias in how women are treated, not in the positions they may hold. In that way I admire them," the instructor-cadet notes. Stilts her head to the side and says, "And of my own kind, I've rarely seen Vartans show significant differences in gender roles, though that is not always the case, such as with the tribal Vartans. I do wonder, though, if your culture is showing respect, fear, or a cultural habit towards attributing a superior group undeserved credit and esteem."

"And by superior I mean superior in social position," Tasha adds, holding up a finger. "It is something that seems very common to your cultural, the assumption of superiority and the attribution of limitation and inferiority that may be undeserved in terms of ability."

"Our women are mysterious," Tomorrow's-Hope claims. "I'm sure you have encountered females that you cannot read or tell what they are thinking, or who can subtly manipulate with ease. And we know the fury of our mothers if we misbehave as children."

"Hmm," goes Tasha, head tilting the other way. "Scholar-to-Aliens certainly fills that bill, but still ... I can't bring myself to like it very much. It seems to me, it's very easy to deny someone something as a dubious honor or by noting some negative aspect, because it convienently benefits you." She then cocks her head to the sde, eying the group with her avain eye. "The Archon is considered a rebel. What would he say, if you invited a female Silent-Ones pilot?"

"He would say what Feather-Tail told him to," Tomorrow's-Hope signs with an ear wiggle. "Do you have any pilot recommendations? Are there female Silent-Ones warriors among the Knights Templar?"

"I do not, but now I think that I will keep an eye out. I know if I were a Silent-One, I would be very unhappy with the limitations placed on me. You may be right in that there are differences across species, but I would prefer to see hor myself," the red woman says with a lopsided grin. "And come to think of it, the Naga are probably feeling I'm leaving them out lately. I should rememdy that, too."

"You know that I am a JEF cadet, and that I am usually the 'face' of the JEF. So you know that I am the member most seen by the public. It is therefor important that I avoid showing favoritisim and I am somewhat concerned the Celestials are feeling that I am avoiding them. They are the group I've had the least interaction with," the woman notes as she pulls herself to her feet. "Take that in to account with our heavy 'Expedition' crew, my friends who are mostly Karnor, Vartan, and Silent-One, and events like this one, I would be surprised if they were not a bit put off or at least concerned."

"They are well represented among the Knights," Tomorrow's-Hope claims. "But they are generally considered socially stand-offish in their dealings with warmbloods. Their recent victories and sudden wealth may make them less interested in joining."

"All the more reason to extend my hand, then," the cmostly Vartan notes in a cheery voice. She retruns to the dias, then leans forward on it, propping her head on her hands, "By the way, I'm going to be busy with class soon, as I've enrolled at the Templar Academy. The Melchior will be relocated there in order to make defense easier and help me study. You may not see a lot of me unless we have plans in advance, so better ask me what you can now. Anything else?"

"Who will wash your Titan?" one of the pilots asks, only to get a poke in the shoulder from his neighbor. "We have used the Winged Citadel's training field in the past," Tomorrow's-Hope notes. "We should be able to have a Trainer Titan in place for lessons."

"Looks like it'll be me washing him, and I don't mind at all," Tasha notes with a lazy smile. "Having a Titan on site for practice should work just fine. Anything else?"

The same pilot who asked about washing in the first place signs, "Will you be wearing shorts when you wash him?" This gets him a poke in both shoulders, from the pilots on either side of him.

"Yes, I think I see another reason why female pilots are prohibited. Won't stop me though," she notes, wagging a finger. "Oh, and what are shorts?"

In the front row, Tomorrow's-Hope seems to have missed that question, since he wasn't looking backwards (or up at the mirror over the chalk board). At least he's acting like he didn't see it.

Tasha waits a moment, then shrugs when no one looks forthcoming. "Swing but can't follow through huh? We'll work on that," she says with a wink. "Anything else Oh and nothing more from you," She points at Shorts-Question, "either. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Shorts-Question's hands are being held down by his neighbors anyway. "Will the Bellerophon be coming to the Pit at some point?" Tomorrow's-Hope asks.

"Well, repairs are underway and, at least from my perspective, well ahead of schedual -- but then I spent most of them in a vat thinking I was running a tavern," the red woman replies. She cocks her head to the side and adds, "We'll probably be ehre sooner or later, but it'll be a big event. Really big. You'll probably know about it well before it happens and it'll conicide with another event, like a JEF parade or recruiting drive. Oh, and we have posters now, if you want some."

"Yes, the Silver Volcano," the pilot signs. The other pilots seem nod slightly in unison. Apparently Katie Kaboom must epitomize all of their fears about women or something.

"Hm, she is very daunting, I'll admit," the mostly Vartan agrees. "But she's nicer when you get to know her. I think she just keeps a dangerous public persona given the difficulties of her life and the constant attention she recieves."

"I still need to ask her for a poster," the makeshift instructor notes out loud, head tilting. "Silver Volcano ... I like that."

"She has a robot bodyguard as well," another pilot signs. This time there aren't as many nods, but a few worried glances towards the man.

"A ... a what?" Tasha asks, leaning forward and perking her ears. "You mean Mr. Invention? I certainly wouldn't want to cross him, but I wouldn't call him a robot. Believe me, I know a lot of robots." She scans her audiance, then asks, "You're afraid of him? Is he that ominous? I mean sure, he intimidated me, and ... Well he saw through me too, but, um, I wou;dn't say he's a robot."

"I do not think 'robot' was what he meant," Tomorrow's-Hope signs. "It is a myth, likely spread by the Expedition itself: that there was a secret program to create super-Karnors. Trained to excel in all forms of combat and counter-intelligence."

"I do not know that term," Tomorrow's-Hope admits. "Is that a current training program?"

"It is very old, actually. The Karbor Elite were what the Humans considered to be the finest of the Karnors created back when Karnors did not have equal rights and were still subjected to selective breeding," the red woman explains. She then gestures to herself first, then expansively, "There were a great many included in the Expedition Fleet, including those who crewed the Fenris like my Gabriel. I, too, am descended from the Karnor Elite. But I don't think they're who you mean -- it sounds like you think they re-initiated the Karnor creation project to refine it further, which isn't an impossibility, as many of the species on Sinai were created using Karnors as the basic archetype for the program. The 'Expedition Trade Library,' as it was known, was a record of all life known to the Terrans, and it was brough here on several ships."

"The Colonization Directive," Tomorrow's-Hope signs. "If a eugenics program where to take place today, we would expect it of the Imperials or the Confederates, who are known tinkerers of life. This is just an 'urban myth' created as psychological warfare or propaganda or someone losing their paycheck to a boastful Karnor card-sharp."

"Maybe I'll ask him next time I see him," Tasha decides. She then pushes off the dias, standing straight again. "To be honest, I'm not sure what to think of things like that. We Karnor wouldn't exist without one, but I've looked at the records and the means, however scientific or well-meaning, were quite cruel to the earlier creations and those that did not live up to their creator's desire. I can't even imagine how painful that must be and I know from record and conversation how bad it was." She shakes her head, then throws her arms up. "Well, I shouldn't worry about it right? Besides, whatever he is, he's still my friend."

"I think we have exhausted the original topic of Titan combat," Tomorrow's-Hope signs. "Is there anything you wish of us, Winged-Gift?"

"I want you to thnk about how you fight, the traditions, and what you fight for. Think about what I said about strategy and tactics, but also consider how you might refine and improve upon the culture of the Titan pilot and the purpose under which we fight. For the longest time, we were duelist, but now we find a new purpose in defense. What can we change to improve? What can we let go of? Are we burdened by convention? Think about these things and the other matters," intructor-Tasha urges her class. She then pushes off the podium, hands up. "That's it! Now lets go get something to eat."

"Kabobs!" one of the pilots suggests, and then everyone gets up and heads for the door. "Do you like the models?" Tomorrow's-Hope asks Tasha before they leave.

Tasha laughs at the question, tossing her arm around Tomorrow's-Hope as they walk. "Of course I do! I have a few like them in my quarters aboard the Bellerophon."