Tasha may have overlooked this room on her way back from choir practice, if not for a bit of activity within. Along one wall is what looks like an oversized wardrobe with two ornate doors, with an out of place light above them. It switches from red to green as the Vartan-hybrid is passing, and one of the doors opens to discharge a Naga, who closes it behind him (or her) before slithering wordlessly past into the main corridor.
"Excuse me," asks Tasha of the Naga as he or she passes her, "But, what's in this room? I never noticed it before."
The Naga 'blinks' at Tasha by licking its eyeballs, then hisses, "Chapel. For spiritual advice." It even points to the odd wardrobe thing.
Tasha peers at the wardrobe. "Oh, ritual clothing, is that what that is? That brings back memories." She cocks her head to the side, clearly thinking. At lentth she shrugs then glances back, "I guess I could use some spiritual advice these days. I'm going to head inside; thanks for the information."
"May the Star grant you peace," the Naga says, with barely a hiss, before slithering away. Up close it appears that the left door of the structure (which is certainly closet sized at least) bears an engraving of the Star, while the right one shows a kneeling figure. The green light seems to be centered over the right one.
Is this some sort of indicator? Tasha wonders. She's not dealt much with the intersecting of technology and magic outside the thusfar incomprehensible whims of Sifran systems. She realizes taht tha area might be for Star worship alone, but given her own religion is difficult to find even on its home world, and that Archon Syrength-of-Stones was always willing to chat, she decides to give it a shot. I suppose the worst that can happen is getting yelled at, she considers as she steps inside.
There's a not-so-simple seating arrangement inside the cubicle, which is unlit. Basically it's up to whoever comes in to fold down the appropriate seat from the wall, from a simple flat bench to something for accommodating tails to some sort of bowl and even a perch. The inside walls are otherwise blank, except for a sliding panel that must connect to the left side.
This is the most cramped temple I've ever seen, Tasha decdies as she puzzles out the seats. In the past, whenever she's attended important functions or met the gods she's been crosslegged, or more awkwardly, on her knees. Not wanting to miss or break anything in her ignorance -- and common occurence since she started schooling -- she decides to go with that and settles down on the floor.
Nothing happens for a while. No visions or dopplegangers or anything.. until there's a polite cough from the other side of the panel. "Is someone there?" asks an oddly maternal sounding human voice.
"Um, yes," goes an uncertain souding Tasha. "Am I not supposed to be? This is a temple, isn't it?"
"This is a Contemplation Chapel," the woman on the other side of the wall explains. "I take it you are new here?"
"Yes, in many ways," Tasha answers, feeling the creep of discomfort that comes with not knowing what she's doing in this strange new land. "Should I leave? I didn't mean to cause any, um, trouble or inconvience. It's just, um, well ... It's been a while, and, um ... " She pauses, glancing towards the exit. "I'm sorry, this was probably a mistake. I should go."
"Hold on," the voice says. "What is it that drew you here?"
Tasha stops as she's getting up, hesitating a moment before returning to her knees. It's an uncomforatable position for someone with a digigrade stance, but that's always been the point. "Well, um, I used to be a ... religious functionary. Of a sort. I was, um, I am? ... A member of a certain temple. Except I've been gone a while, and a great many things have happened since I left. I used to have a lot of faith, but these days ... I don't think I do. Anymore. In a number of ways. And, well, um, I wasn't sure what to do about it all, and I saw this place, so ... " Her gaze drifts back towards the door. "So I thought I would stop by. I'm not really sure what I was expecting to find; probably nothing? It's what I deserve to find, I think, maybe ... Probably ... "
The panel slides back, revealing.. well, not much since there's a mesh and the other cubicle is just as dark. "What has made you question your faith, child?" the woman on the other side asks.
Not wanting to look anyone in the eyes right now, Tasha instead peers at the floor intently. "It seems to me that my faith only lasted until I became so busy I didn't have any time for it, anymore. To be honest, that applies to a lot of things and ... people ... lately. Between the stress, the constant danger, and everything I need to do just to stay competitive and alive, a lot of things I thought were unbreakable have begun to fall apart."
The red woman pauses to think a moment, then continues, "But there's more, at least, for faith there is. I had a ... A disagreement with a ... I think? ... A member of my church. A, um, high ranking member. Very high. He wanted things from me, offered me a position, wanted me to join a war -- I worship Abaddon, God of war and Conflict by the way -- and I refused him. He, um, he tried to force me, y-you could say he tried to, um, rape me. Only worse. He manipulated someone I asked to trust me, and in the end I killed both of them, and I wonder ... I wonder what that makes me. In the end, I seem to have betrayed a lot of people and things I never wanted to, either because I'm weak, or because they stood against me. I ...I think I went too far. He ... he deserved it but ... I don't know."
"I'm not sure what to believe anymore," Tasha concludes, wondering why she's telling a total stranger this and doubting her fortitude for it.
"Is it a betrayal when the person you are pledged too changes the things you first agreed too?" the woman asks. "To choose the ethically right path, despite faith or law or custom, is very brave and in itself a sign of faith - just more of a faith in your own morality. Had you followed blindly, would you have been happy to do so?"
"No. No I wouldn't have been," Tasha conceeds, reaching back to scratch at her head despite trying to train herself not to. "I doubt anyone would have been, except him. I wish my friend didn't have to die for it, though. We could have accomplished a lot together." She then frowns, head shaking. "Of course, another friend would have been jealous, um, and he probably deserved to be."
"Are you having problems moving on from these events?" the woman asks.
"I suppose I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Tasha admits, finally peering up towards the grating. "And, um, I think it's important I know where my faith lies because, well, I have a feeling it it's something I need to sort out before I can move on with ... um ... certain things."
"You make it sound as if faith is a picture puzzle, where you have to put the edges together first and then work on the picture itself," the voice notes. "It really isn't that complicated. It is not a set of rules to learn, or prayers to recite. Those belong to religion. Faith is simply believing in a purpose, whether chosen by you or granted by a higher power, whether one you are aware of or one that is a mystery."
"Is that how you see it? For me, faith has always been a lot more material, um, in that the gods, and um, what I was supposed to do were right there infront of me. Faith is following the path set out for me and the successful accomplishment of those goals. I know faith has the element of strong, well, faith in the 'I don't know but believe anyway' sort of thinking, but it seems like I don't have either kind anymore, because of what happened, but, um, also because the strain of everything has made me question what I thought I had settled upon. No, I mean, things I thought were decided now seem so much less clear. It's also that, um, it feels like I can't settle anymore. That I need to keep looking for something better or new, because I'm afraid to stop, but in doing to I hurt people close to me and cause problems -- but without that belief I don't know if I would want to keep doing what I'm doing. I didn't see the problem coming back then, because things were still new, but now that life has settled
I keep seeking, um, more. I fear that impulse along with what happened ruined my faith, but maybe, maybe I had already begun to question it. Maybe I'm disloyal, seeing things as means to move farther, and not ends."
"My goodness, you certain demand a lot from your faith," the woman notes through the screen. "It seems that what you really want is certainty. 'Am I on the right path?' 'Is this what I'm supposed to do?' 'How do I decide which is most important?' These really aren't questions of faith, though. They're just life. Everyone has them. Your parents help you answer them when you are young, and as you grow older you begin to seek your own answers. And there may be multiple answers, that are all equally valid. My advice is to not look to faith for answers to things you must really figure out on your own. Good and bad, right and wrong, interpersonal relationships - these are things that you determine, that grow from your interactions with the world and others. They are real things, and not subject to faith or the lack of it. Does this make sense to you?"
"Everyone has them?" Tasha pauses a moment, biting her lipm then she shakes her head. "I see what you mean, and I think you're right on some of that, but, well, not on all of it. I'm not, um, like everyone else. Not like most people, anyway. Not anymore. It's part of something else; part of having left behind what I was to become something more. I abandoned what I was, to be more. But you can't take it with you. And I know that somewhere down the road, it's going to happen again. It will happen if I succeed. But things will change, again."
The young woman smiles a little to herself, albiet a humorless one, chuckling. "I was wrong. I do have faith. I see now." She looks up towards the grate, head cocked tot he side. "It's faith that I'm afraid of, but I still believe in it. There are places I want to go, things I want to do, and I know I can get there. But I think I also know the price." Her smile fades and she looks away, gaze sliding off. "But it won't be just me. To get there I may need to sacrifice a lot; hurt people who don't deserve it. But I'm not willing to look away, or stop. I'm afraid of the stopping; I can't stand it. But you know, I really hate myself for accepting the price. For others, and for me."
"I think I'm a bit ruthless, when you get down to it," she adds a second later, laughing a hollow laugh.
"That doesn't sound much like faith either," the human claims. "It isn't an excuse you know. You should strive to achieve your goals by causing the least damage possible."
"Never accept that damage is unavoidable," she adds.
"Oh, I know. And I do. But it seems like the bigger the task, the greater the small margin of damage becomes, and the failure is correspomdingly greater too," Tasha admits, head tilting. "I don't mean to say it's an excuse. I know my faith is my responsibility. I'm not trying to be reckless, but, reasonably, it all seems very possible. And it's not to say that success will be bad for everyone, just, different. Maybe worse, for me. Better for those that may be hurt in the short term. It's difficult to manuver gracefully when there is so much counting on you. I hope for a success that pleases everyone, but, I'm not naive enough anymore to assume everything will go well. If I were a wise person, I would be happy with what I have, but, I don't know. I'm not. I mean I'm happy but, I don't think I can stop."
Tasha grins lopsidedly, head shaking. "I know this must sound like I'm an awful person, but I'm not doing it just for me. It is is for me to an extent, but even if it wasn't, I would still do it. There's someone who's important to me, someone who's been suffering a long time. I want to help her. She'd never ask for help, of course. But, I know her. If I can just find a way, I think maybe I can help her."
"But it means letting go. For me to help her, I need to give up what I have. Maybe it's just easier if I make myself sound like a villain, and be a jerk about it, that way people can just say, 'that Tasha, she's selfish and cruel,' so that they can blame me and they never need to know why. Knowing why would make it harder, you understand? It's easier to let go if there's anger in it."
"Child, it's easy to resign yourself to a perceived fate than to try and remake it into something better," the voice notes. "Faith is what helps you get through the hardest, darkest times. And by extension, embracing faith is what lets you take on the harder path. The easy road requires no faith, since you're resigned to the obstacles ahead instead of trying to overcome them."
"I don't know if the path I've chosen is 'easy,'" tasha remarks, dubiously. "Easy would have been staying as I had been. There's nothing 'easy' about what I'm doing. But, I suppose there's 'easier,' so I see what you mean in that way. With everything that's happened -- how many times I've come close to dying -- it's probably easier for me to assume the worst, because that makes dealing with it easier if it should happen. It's a lot easier to make myself out to be a bad person, if it means I can take the blame and avoid the complexity of questions. If it means we can survive. If it means success."
"It may help to tackle things one at a time, as they come," the woman on the other side suggests. "Think of the path as a series of steps, and what you see from the next step up may not be what you saw from the previous step. You will learn at each step, face a challenge, and hopefully grow. Each step is a goal in itself, aside from the ultimate end goal. Never try to see the whole path at once, just focus on the next step. That is where faith can help you, since it only needs to get you to the next step, the next goal, past the next challenge, rather than propel you far forward all at once."
"You look at the path ahead as the person you are now, but you will not be the same person when you reach the end of it. Always keep that in mind when trying to foresee the future," she adds.
'Hrrm' goes Tasha, who nods. "I see what you mean; That's a good way to look at it. Just, one step at a time. Just try to reach the next step. It seems like I got fixated on the big picture, because, let me tell you, the big picture is really scary some times! I stared at six thousand years, realized that my tiny world is just a lost and forgotten backwater, saw everything I thought was the way it is was wrong, gone from nobody to somebody and held the world in my hand ... "
Beyond the grating, the young woman stares at the solid wall of the booth with a distant, lost look to her eyes. A fearful, overwhelmed look that disappears when she blinks a moment later. "Please forget I said that last part," she adds, quielty. "I think I understand what you mean, now, though. I am not who I was. What was overwhelming then isn't now. I see."
"You are the person facing the current step. Focus on that step," the voice suggests. "Only that step. If you look too far beyond it, you will lose focus on what is immediately before you. Have faith in the future you to handle the next step, and remember that you can only see the next step after completing the current one."
"I see. I think I see what you mean," Tasha repeats, nodding. She then pulls something out of one of her pouches that lights the booth with a soft glow, frowning at whatever she sees. "Speaking of which, I have about five minutes to meet my tutor. We'll need to stop for now, but you've given me a lot to think about." She then turns to smile up at the grating, not the sad smile she had been wearing, but more genuine. "Thank you for listening to the confused ramblings of an out-of-place student."
"I am Sister Falynne if you need to seek me out again," the voice says. "I hope I have helped to clear your thoughts."
"I think so, sister. Sometimes I forget there are people I can talk to, in my rush to be invincible," Tasha admits as she rises. "I'm Tasha, by the way." She pushes open the door, but before she leaves she says, "See you around, maybe?"
Titan Tactics is taught in a room similar to the one at the Silent-One's Embassy in the Pit of Himar. There are rows of seats, fold-out desks and a central area at the bottom. Instead of just a table, there's an elaborate and sprawling desert diorama, complete with model Titans and other armored vehicles. Captain Frane, the big Vartan who is also the Choirmaster, paces back and forth behind the model as the room begins to fill. Unsurprisingly, most of the students are Silent-Ones.
Tasha takes her seat in the back row, both because her vision makes even disatnt seating seem close up, and because she isn't yet sure she's not on Frane's bad side yet. Lesson One of ranged combat: take cover," she thinks as she settles in.
A Karnor man sits right next to Tasha.. and seems to loom even as he slouches. While most Karnors seem to vary little in height and build, this one must be well over six feet tall. If he wasn't so thin, one might wonder if he was a Titanian with a good haircut. As soon as the clock on the wall ticks the hour, Frane bellows, "Alright, time to see which of you idiots is about to get killed."
"Falcon, Turtle, front and center," the instructor demands, and two cheetahs leap (literally) to stand at the table. "You will be piloting Red and you Green," Frane tells them, indicating the color-tagged Titans on the 'map'. Both Silent-Ones salute and take their places near the models.
Suspecting Frane is indeed still irritated by her, Tasha's -- or possibly some fragment of Nora -- take charge, attack head-on attitude suddenly takes the initivive in the face of anxiety and danger; That is, she has the urge to be a smartass.
"But I already nearly died last week," she insists, then, tilting her head, adds, "Or was that three months ago? Sir, my sense of time has been killed." A surge of amused vengeance grips her in the aftermath, a feeling of vindication after the move he pulled when they first met.
"RED!" Frane bellows next, pointing to Tasha. "You and Snarf are going to pilot Pink and Puce for that. Get down here."
"Yes, sir! Pink it is, sir," Tasha calls back as she rises, snaping off a salute before marching down to the front.
The tall Karnor beside her also unfolds from his seat and follows. Once next to the cheetahs, it's apparent why Snarf is in the class: his proportions nearly match those of the felines, which presumably means he could pilot one of their Titans without too much difficulty.
Tasha, meanwhile, stands out like she always has, though she does smile for the bit of flippant remark. Between the talk and the remark, she can just make out a brighter future and a insight in to the mind of her creator.
"I won't let you down, Snarf. You'll have to tell me who we killed though -- they all look the same to me," she asides, adding, "Frankly, that's unfair. Our heads are much better trophies."
Snarf just makes a noncommittal grunt, and turns his attention to the chalk board, where Frane is scraping out all sorts of equations. "The game here is Capture the Flag," he says. "Each Titan will be a Lawbringer, so familiarize yourselves with these fuel consumption and heat regulation formulas. You'll need to solve them in your head to make it through the map obstacles without breaking your machine. You'll each have 200 kilos of kerosene in your tanks, which gives you 5 minutes at full power..."
Well. I'm going to die, Tasha decides about half a minute in to the explaination. Whiel she does understand math, her grasp on its is tenuous at best and largely the product of machine-based learning with little actual, real-world usage. Her Titan plots out power consumption for her, though she's memorized much of its usage through exposure and experience.
Arms folded, she leans over to whisper to her partner, "Just to let you know, I've never piloted a Lawbringer so I'll have to rescind the 'I won't let you down' idea and instead suggest you use me as bait and distraction to achieve victory. The Silent Ones will all want the chance to defeat me for bragging rights, so lets let them have their chance so you can succeed."
Snarf gives Tasha an odd glance, but still doesn't say anything. Maybe he's mute? As the rules of engagement are set out (no ranged weapons, hostile fields of fire from wheeled armor and so forth) it's clear that it's more of a race to the flag. Unspoken however is what other requirements there are for success beyond taking the flag itself.
The red woman puzzles out the battlefield; It's a conventional Abaddonian battlefield, but not something she's had to deal with yet. A great deal of effort was put in to make sure the JEF never has to see a battlefield like the one she's staring at, though she can't rule out it may happen somehow, someday. many of the armored vehicles are also equipment she hasn't had to face, or even work with. Their fields of fire are clear enough to her, however, as is their general pupose. She can only assume her fellow, all primarily military, are familiar with the machines depicted style of combat, even deciding they likely have detailed, numeric knowledge. I know I would, if had to deal with this sort of thing, thinks.
All in all, she's quite dubious as to her odds of survival; Logically, with her information lacking and experience with the piloted machine low, she agrees with her original assessment of having low odds of survival. Thus, she concludes that her partnership is deterimental to their mutual success, and while she cannot assess Snarf's ability for lack of input, she is willing to assume he has greater familiarity. Just to be sure, though, she whispers to him, "Assess your capability, strengths and weakneses quickly relevant to the situation so I can see if they fit what i'm assuming. Grunt if you can't speak; I'll figure it out."
"Balance," the Karnor whispers, his voice surprisingly high. "Dodging. Titanitsu. Rough Terrain." That last one at least suggests an option: there is rough terrain, which provides cover from the tanks but clearly isn't as fast to travel over as the open stretches, which it would make sense for the cheetahs to favor.
"Close combat, melee weapons, frontal assaults, advanced ancient technology, intergration, flight tactics and strategy," Tasha murmurs as she stares at the battlefield infront of her. There's two ways this can go. Either the Silent Ones will focus entirely on the mission, or they will see that I'm present and take this opportunity to risk seeing what kind of pilot I am. Likewise yourself, if you're new, but as I destroyed a Titan recently they may forgo mission orientation to take special advantage, self-education, and a chance for glory." She scans the terrain now, checking it. "Your evasion is best on rough terrain, while there's likely to be poor unless special talent is present. If we can lure or force them in to combat in rough terrain -- perhaps near clear terrain so they can feel like they have a fast approach and escape route -- I can tie them down or sacrifice my Titan so you can break off and capture. If I forgo success I can expend more fuel; Likewise with survival not an issue I needn't fig
ht defensively. did I miss anything?"
"No combat," Snarf points out. Indeed, the specifications for the Titans don't include any weapons, and only light armor. The tall Karnor seems to be squinting in thought, however.
"I think they'll want to test me, but only do so cautiously expecting I will try to win, especially without weapons. They will expect light altercations because fuel is important to victory, because personal survival is assumed, and because they don't want to risk the embarassment of running out of fuel." She then pauses, muzzle pursing a moment and she nods. "He didn't say 'no combat.' just no weapons. I don't need any weapons, but I do know Silent Ones Titan training does not include weaponless combat. At the very least they'll be unprepared for it; I may not be able to do a lot of damage but I can tie them up, even if I have to hold on to them. If I can get a good grip on both we've basically won, and we can rely on your skills as backup for any other result. What do you think?"
The two Silent-Ones have their backs turned to their competitors at the moment, to hide their one strategizing. Snarf takes Tasha's shoulder and tries to draw her back towards the wall for more privacy as well. "How bad do you want to win?" he asks her.
Tasha then pauses, muzzle pursing a moment and she nods. "He didn't say 'no combat.' Just no weapons. I don't need any weapons, but I did just remember Silent Ones Titan training does not include weaponless combat -- that's a good advantage. At the very least they'll be unprepared for it; I may not be able to do a lot of damage but I can tie them up, even if I have to hold on to them. If I can get a good grip on both we've basically won, and we can rely on your skills as backup for any other result. What do you think?"
"The goal is to win; that should be our top priority. Real lives are not at stake, so casulties are not a concern," 'Red' replies. "Are you thinking something more drastic? I was considering using Sign to rile them."
"I think you assume too much of your opponents," Snarf says. "Mission is to capture the flag. That's it. Going off mission for glory or other silly reason will get you kicked out. This is battle, no place for that stuff. They will go for the flag, not us. No time for that."
"Will you sacrifice your machine to gain a team advantage?" the big Karnor then asks.
"Personal error and misjudgement account for many mistakes. If war and politics were all about judgement and sticking to the mission, we wouldn't be living in this world," Tasha notes, then adds, "Still you have a point. I'm basing it off what I know of otehr Silent Ones pilots and their culture, which forgoes practicality for glory and tradition. The Titans themselves are examples of that way of thinking, but you're right, it's just an assumption however logical. Information is limited, and they may chose the mission over other things." She looks up formt he battlefield and says, "I'm fine with that. It's not like it's a part of me, like my actual Titan."
"These aren't Silent-Ones, they are Knights Templar," Snarf points out. "They do not adhere to Silent-Ones cultural norms. None of adhere to our origins. Never think that a Templar does. Based on your lack of any actual experience with these Titans, I suggest a piggyback maneuver: you carry my Titan as far and as fast as you can. It will slag your engines, but give me the extra edge to move quickly through the rough terrain and be able to reach the flag without dealing with the artillery hazards. What do you think?"
"Ah, I thought we were dealing with military trainees that would return to their organizations later, like myself. That changes things," Tasha notes, her gaze returning to the map in earnest as she scans it all-over again. "You're right, if they've come here, that means they've taken up the ideals of the Knights, which means they are willing to sacrifice personal glory and other things for a greater cause -- which in this case translates to mission focus. In that case, we can only really assume a familiarity with open-ground movement and perhaps a bit more understanding of their machines, which will probably mean greater fuel economy for a give pathing. Hmm." She thinks a moment, then nods. "In light of my mistake, and given the time, I think your tactic is superior. It may also catch them off guard, as they may be assuming I would not abandon my Titan or let it be destroyed, which would normally be accurate of me."
Snarf nods, and begins giving Tasha the relevant numbers and measures, appropriate to the scale of the map. It looks like, according to his calculations, she can carry him almost a third of the way, right to the edge of the rough terrain. The artillery is guarding the flag itself, and Snarf's path would take him behind some of it. He explains that while the field of fire is wide for some of them, the heavy cannons aren't on turrets and thus can't swing around to cover his approach. He doesn't speculate on how the Silent-Ones team will act.
"I'll just watch and learn after my part is done, then. Good for me; There's a lot to learn here. Good luck, Snarf," Tasha bids her partner as the two return to the tableside to show they are ready.
The simulation commences, with Frane managing things with a stopwatch, a slide-rule and some reference tables. The Silent-Ones do go for speed, using zig-zag tactics to avoid being hit. It uses up a lot of fuel, and they compensate by ejecting their remaining armor(!) and making a straight sprint for the flag. Neither make it, but the artillery that focuses on them doesn't see Snarf's relatively fuel-heavy and armored Titan arrive through the rough terrain. He also has to run full out at the end, but his armor provides just enough protection to get him to the objective - even though his Titan is useless at that point. Tasha's remains at the other side of the terrain, having expended itself as a 'booster' stage.
"Very good," Frane says. "As a team of four, you have succeeded."
"That's primarily due to Snarf's judgement. I'm afraid I wasn't of much use except as a sacrifice," Tasha notes as she sits nearby, studying the notes she took during the exercise.
"Though, I thought we were two teams of two," tasha adds a moment later.
"You were two teams of two, comprising a team of four," Frane notes. "I stated the mission was to capture the flag, not that only one team could succeed. The point to accomplish the mission, where the obstacles were not the other team. With two teams the chances are doubled. The lesson is to always have backup, even you aren't in communication."
"I see. I regret to say that I assumed we were enemies," the red woman notes as she scribbles something elseon her pad.
Snarf and the cheetahs all look a bit surprised and a bit ashamed - since clearly they'd thought they were competing against one another, not the clock and mission itself.
"The enemy is the one shooting at you, not necessarily the one with the same goals," Frane notes, and there's much scribbling in notebooks as a result. "In a real campaign, many teams may be deployed with the same goal, unknown to one another, in order to ensure success."
Looking up, Tasha notes, "That's fine for military goals and those acting with a much greater force, though I'm not sure I'll be able to make much use of the knowledge. I can't rule it out though," she notes.
"Sacrificial missions with my Titan are also not feasible even though they were in this case," she adds.
"You are here to learn the Templar way of fighting," Frane points out. "That means teamwork and sacrifice. No glory, no heroics. We get the job done with as little cost and collateral damage as possible."
"Well in that we're the same. Assuming I'm able to focus, that's how we go about our tasks too, though usually our enemy is more variable and support is uncommon," Tasha says before lowering her head to return to her notes. "Perhaps some day I can fight with others."
"Just don't fight with your instructors," Frane advises. To the class, he notes, "There will be maintenance drills on the trainers tomorrow morning. I suggest you all get plenty of sleep."
"Yes, sir," goes Tasha before his instructions. Staring at her notes, she's left with an uncomfortable feeling; Would she be of much use, without her Titan? Without it and other technologies, how useful would she really be? A disconcerting feeling for the young woman, who has found her mood unsteady and morale wavering ever since her traumatic brain injury, though she remembers a time when she was enthusiastic about the future and quick to seek comraderie and alliance. She wonders what happened to her.