The next several days are full of activity for Tasha and Gabriel (and really the first night took him some time to recover from). With Melchior back in the Pit, it was necessary to transfer him to Harmonia for a full service check and repairs, which meant moving him into the Picnic Basket. Then it took another two days to get a leave of absence from the Winged Citadel, after nearly a day of just reviewing the battle with Tesla and the ensuing analysis of its effectiveness - along with some speculation on whether or not a new daikaiju would eventually replace Tesla.
Preparing for the trip out to the Gateway settlement followed. This is when Tasha got to spend some time with Mage Neesa, who seemed to be a fairly cheerful older woman (at least past her mid-twenties, anyway). She was, of course, fascinated by Tasha's dreams and visions. She also was able to help the hybrid pick out some general purpose civilian clothing that could be mixed and matched to fit in just about anywhere.
After saying goodbye to Gabriel (which would require another half-day of recovery for the ancient Karnor), Tasha and Neesa begin the train journey. While the Dream Mage naps (something her particular Sphere is very good at), Tasha has a chance to read through the materials that Remiel prepared for her.
The history of the Titanians begins with the Celestial Empire, which first encountered them some five-thousand years before Terrans developed aircraft, much less space travel. The encounters were always brief and violent, with the Titanians appearing out of nowhere and swarming the Naga ships, sometimes taking supplies or cargo which had no obvious value (along with the stuff that did have obvious value), especially esoteric technology or artifacts.
The Khattans were not so open with their records, which many speculate to mean they actually traded with the Titanians for some of the loot - or that some Khattan traders colluded with them in order to ensure dominance over certain trade routes. The Khattas did admit to employing Vartans as security on their vessels though. There was never any admittance that the Titanians could catch and breach the Khattan ships, but their ports and colonies did suffer the occasional raid.
The Silent-Ones, Terrans and Confederates had the most detailed reports, as they encountered the Titanians quite often - being the 'younger' space-faring civilizations, they were far more vulnerable. The Silent-Ones and Terrans especially, since their methods of interstellar travel depended on fixed, easily ambushed points in space. The Confederates even came up with the strategy of using dozens of smaller ships to ensure that most got through unscathed, and the Terrans followed suit with 'honeypot' ships meant to be decoys. The Silent-Ones never went in for tricks, and were openly combative with the Titanians.
What little was known about the space-wolves came from Silent-Ones victories. Their technology seemed primitive and ramshackle, yet managed to outperform the apparently more advanced civilizations. Many of the machines made no sense, and some claimed they were actually artwork instead of functional. Other devices were clearly advanced, if undecipherable, and the amount of exotic trans-uranic and other materials recovered led to revolutions in materials science - and mysteries, since some of them had atomic structures that didn't seem possible, such strong-force bound atomic nuclei 'clusters' and alloys that could only result from processes that were at best theoretical - except perhaps to the Khattans, the only other civilization that made use of exotic matter.
No information on the location of the Titanian homeworld, or even if they have one, had ever been found (or disclosed) at the time of the Expedition. The fact that Titanians managed to follow, somehow, was another shock.
There was quite a bit of information on the Titanians of Sinai, however, since they were simply more accessible. The country of Titania (nobody calls it a nation, since there's no apparent government) is in Nordika, bordering Chronotopia and Amazonia. The 'capitol' is Titanic, named after the massive Titanian starship that crashed there, managing to embed itself most of the way into a mountain. The overall goal of the Titanians on Sinai seems to be the restoration of the ship, and a group known as 'data miners' are constantly scouring the wreckage for useful information. Their relationship with Chronotopia is mixed: the Chronotopians consider them to be barbarians and the Titanians think of mechanized warfare as some sort of game. A surprising amount of Titanian technology works on the surface of Sinai, and many Titanian groups have had success as builders of airship engines, especially since they have access to more metal than others, aside from those mining the Red Cliffs.
Titanian culture is minimal. They prefer to communicate through Hammersong, a sort of rapid code created by banging on metal, but otherwise use a pidgin version of Standard. On Sinai there are non-wolf Titanians as well, mainly the larger races like lion and tiger Khattas, Rhians, Vykarin and the occasional Amazonian that got lost. Family structure appears to be typical, although it's also likely to have members adopted into family units for whatever reason. Courtship is generally driven by the females, one of the few gender-biased roles in the culture. When a Titanian woman finds a potential mate attractive, she bakes a special pastry that is presented to them. If the pastry is accepted and eaten, the pair is considered to be married.
As for the Titanians of the Dainty Mauler, tradition seems to have been bucked: they appear to be the first Titanian trade ship anyone has encountered. There is some sort of agreement with the Silent-Ones, in that the vessel regularly visits Zion and a few other major ports. As a rule, Titanians are allowed to enter ports like anyone else, so long as they don't cause trouble (which they eventually do anyway) since nobody wants to get into a fire fight with them. The Dainty Mauler trades in exotic sea life not found on any other world, which they claim to capture from a place called the Star Sea.
There are many theories of how the Titanians are able to appear and disappear anywhere in space, and somehow catch up to Celestial ships in warp drive and Confederate hyperdrive, suggesting some unknown layer of hyperspace or possibly an alternate dimension. Nobody has been able to conduct experiments on an active Titanian ship to find out for certain.
"Hrrm," goes Tasha as she finishes reading twenty minutes in to the journey. It's a lot of information she didn't know; At best, she only knew a bit from personal experience aboard a Titanian ship and from talking with them, though she knew about Titania from her travels aboard The Rake. Until recently, she never really thought about the Titanians and how odd they were culturally -- but she can say the same from the Silent-Ones history of slavery and other things, as well. Her journey has opened her eyes in more ways than one, and now she finds herself in reflection on just how interesting the Titanians are, and are to her now.
At the very least, she's sure her research time will be enlightening, and hopefully, progressive in the area of Titanian understanding. She hopes her exposure to some of their members and her history of being a bit of a barbarian herself will help, though she isn't at all sure how she'll manage to dig deeper than the other researchers have yet. I'll find a way, she decides.
With her reading done, she looks up and out the window wondering how close the train is now.
Endless red desert speeds past. The route to Gateway isn't direct, requiring a stop at the old Confederate Life Dome, then up along the Old Line, as it's called, to the transfer point to the newer line that connects to Gateway. Quite a lot of the rail system is new, only put into place since the advent of the Pit and opening of the Gateway. The distances are still large, since everything on Abaddon is spread out. It does make Tasha wonder a bit about the Trans-Nordikan Railway on Sinai, which was supposedly built (and maintained) with a lot of Titanian aid.
It's really mysterious, Tasha decides as she thinks about the peculiar railroad, No training that I'm aware of, a lack of materials, and they never give the impression of being savants, yet they can build almost anything -- and often better, faster, and with fewer high quality resources if not more reliably. They have an Origin Marker, according to that equally mysterious image, so is their ability a product of First One tampering? And wheer does it exists? In the mind? Or is the mind only the first step for the First Ones?
The desert is a place made for musing, and pondering big questions, especially with the wide expanse of sky. It's definitely the sort of place for religions to be born. But the hypnotic bleakness also lets one lose track of time. It's been hours, certainly, once the train begins to slow as it reaches the Confederate Life Dome. The name hasn't changed, despite being under 'new management' at the moment. A lot of Eeee are getting on and off the train here, and Neesa finally wakes up. "Are we there yet?" she asks, and yawns.
"We're at the Confederate Life Dome," Tasha tells the groggy mage, pointing towards the massive structure looming in the distance. "We'll be here for a little while, as they'll be loading and unloading the cars."
The Confederate Life Dome is a topic the red woman has long avoided, largely because it's such an unpleasant subject for all involved -- except maybe the Celestial Empire. As the only vaguely 'Confederate' member of the JEF, she's tried to avoid speaking about it, let alone seeming to approve of what happened. She suspects that some day she'll need to go there, but for the time being the Dome remains the elephant in Tasha's political room.
From the window, the platform and the Life Dome beyond it is visible. There are a lot of armored Naga about, checking the documents of the Eeee coming and going. The dome itself is a bit opaque, with shadowy forms barely hinted at inside. The 'skin' gets clearer towards the top, and skin is definitely the right term. The dome resembles a segmented grub, but one that's been inflated to a million times its size. The skin even quivers now and then.
"I don't think I'd want to go in there," Neesa admits. "I know that it's all really just a big greenhouse, with farms and such.. but it still makes my fur crawl a bit thinking about it. I keep thinking of the Plaguebringers.."
"It's really a marvel of bio-enginnering," Tasha notes as she leans forward, using her sharp avian vision to inspect the Dome in detail. "While the organic technology is a bit, well, hard for me to get used to, too, I've had some experience with smaller bio-constructs and I've found them to be effective and maybe even endearing."
Thinking back, Tasha recalls the Plaguebringer assault -- something she's tried to push out of her mind when dealing with the Confederates, a mental action that seems to happen a lot when dealing with the often ruthless nation and its many splinter groups. "Were you in the city then, too? The Rake's crew and I were down in Darkside when it happened, so we saw the swarm attack, but we didn't get very many of them down where we were -- most of them tried to breach the vertical shaft in to the Temple, attacking as they went that way, but none of the ones taht reached the tunnel returned."
"I was still an Apprentice, in the College Esoterica topside," Neesa recalls. "It was Candlemass, and I had a candle.. I can't remember who I was going to give it to, though. Everything turned upside down. I was terrified, not just from the attack, but throughout the war. Always afraid there'd be another attack on the students. We lost a lot of Mages to that conflict. Too many. It really changed.. everything."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," says Tasha, who turns towards the mage and reaches out to pat her hand. "We heard about it, of course. Um, indirectly usually, and from the soldiers who came to Darkside to forget the war. We didn't get any mages, but, well, mages are noteworthy enough that we all knew what was going a few months in. I heard that the College relocated to a sky island? It was never on any of the charts, though?"
"Yeah, Caroban," Neesa says. "I'd never heard of it either, but we were uprooted and relocated there. I lived in a giant pumpkin for two years while everything was being built, feeling useless. And then, after the war and the relocation and all that... I couldn't practice Dream Magic! The Babelites had a massive dream ritual going, building it up for years, and Dream Mages would get trapped in it, stuck in dreams. I thought the universe was conspiring against me."
The whistle blows, meaning that the train was getting ready to depart. The clunks and thunks of cars being shuffled had ended, and the engine was probably done refueling with water.
"I can see why you'ld think so!" Tasha remarks, eyes widening. It had never really occured to her to think about all the sundry problems mages might have; The problems with just living, or the great problems that shook the world. Like any Sinaian Vartam she had always thought mages were trouble, something closer to demons than people. To hear Mage Neesa talk about her struggles makes her feel ashamed, her ears canting back. "I didn't hear anything about a dream ritual, but telling dock workers the secret plans of governments wasn't high on the priority list, you know? I actually considered joining the war effort, but that ended quickly enough when my mother smacked me so hard I hit the floor! She told me, if I couldn't stand up to that, I wouldn't survive a war -- then she said I'd have to go through her first, and, well ... " The red woman scratches at her head, head tilting. "By the way, I'm sorry I wasn't, um, friendlier before. That we didn't talk much."
"Your mother is wise," Neesa says, and puts her hand over Tasha's as the train starts to move again. "You've had a lot of stuff to deal with, so it's understandable. Don't tell Remy, but.. even when the Babel mess was over, I was really low. There was talk of shutting down the School of Dream altogether, all sorts of accusations and inquisitions. I really, really came close to just stepping off the side of the island, thinking that my whole life had been a waste. I jumped at the chance to come here, to Abaddon. And meeting Remy.. I guess he saved me, sort of. Does that sound silly, from someone my age?"
"No," Tasha says flatly, leaning over to offer the woman a hug. "Gabriel is the same way for me, and me for him. I think it shows how smart you are, and brave, that you saw your problem and accepted it, then did what you had to do to be happy. I am also very grateful you helped Remy; I think he needs you, too."
"He was a challenge," Neesa admits. "But I was finally useful, you know? Gabriel seems like a great guy as well. There's something about them. They're just a bit.. bigger than life. Like the First Ones, or the Karnor version at least." She reaches under the seat to bring up a basket, and asks, "Ready for lunch?"
"They are bigger. They had to be, coming from a time when Karnors were still being monitored and tested for quality. I've spoken with them about it, and it seemed like they weer always under the headman's axe to excel. They were and are the best of Karnordom, but they paid a price to be the best -- and those that weren't paid it too." Tasha nods, standing and backing up a seat so they can use her old seat as a table. "I was really worried about Remy, to be honest. Of all the Elite, he was the one who seemed the most lost. The most out of place. Seeing him happy, seeing you both happy, it's really nice. Back then though, it was all uncertain, when we carried them down from the mountain."
"He doesn't talk much about that," Neesa says as she lays down a cloth and pulls out their sandwiches. "I know he has nightmares though. Sometimes he wakes up and isn't sure if anything is real. He says the.. machine-mind.. on Fenris would make them dream, to keep their brains functioning, and sometimes it would be really real and interactive, and when his mood drops he wonders if he isn't still dreaming it all. You were in a similar situation recently, right? Did you dream?"
Tasha nods to this; She's heard the story before, of the seemingly endless hell the few surviors endured -- and most of them could not. She shivers as she thinks about it, and her own brush with the same.
"I did, yes," Tasha admits, ears canting back and forwning. She looks away, staring out the window at the endless red sand, her stare a thousand miles away. "I forgot who I was. Where I came from. I thought my little island alone in the sky was the whole world. I didn't recognize Kat-, um ... Well, you won't say anything, will you? I didn't recognize my friend, Katherine Vesuvius. Mostly I painted -- I can paint now, did you know that? -- and lived with my Titan's AI, as if we were a couple. I think some of it was guilt, too, for the mistakes I had made before the accident. A part of me thought I deserved to be there, even if I no longer remembered why. I get the nightmares, too -- waking up wondering if what I'm seeing is real."
"Well, as a Dream Mage I can assure you these sandwiches are real," Neesa says. "Although frankly the meat probably comes from a monster that does not seem real. But that's what mustard is for!" She takes a bite of her sandwich. After swallowing she notes, "If you ever have any nightmares, you can always talk to me. I can't craft dreams - dreamsmithing is sort of 'out of favor' at the moment - but I can try to analyze them. Oh, was there any sort of magical advice you needed? Not just Dream.. I'll be reporting in at Camp Caroban after all, and can ask around if you need someone."
"Thank you, I appreciate that," tasha says with a smile as she picks up her sandwich and has a bite. It's taken some time, but she's finally gotten used to the purple meat of Abaddon, even enjoying it for its high iron 'bloody' taste. After she swallows, she explains while gesturing with her sandwich. "Well, I have a lot of questions! But right now, the most important one as a warrior protecting this world deals with spirits. Did Remy tell you what I faced? Abaddon? We think 'he' was an actual Sifran created spirit, an automated defense system or guardian of some sort, and extremely hostile to aliens -- that is, us. The problem is, even though I encountered him before, I cou;dn't even be sure he really existed until he attacked me. And then when he attacked, he came from apparently nowhere to infect my machine, and he even tried to infect me. The computers tried to counter him but he was not only hacking them, he was changing them physically!"
"So my questions revolve around dealing with this sort of being. How do I percieve them? Confirm their existence? How can they be attacked? And killed? We only defeated him by ... Well, I can't say how, but it's not something we can rely on, and he suggested he was one of many," the red woman concludes before taking another bite.
"Well, the College holds that gods and such are just spirits, somehow conjured by collective belief," Neesa says. "But then there are the ones that seem to just.. sprout up naturally. Demons, and such. As for how to kill a god-level spirit.. uh.. nobody's ever really done that, I think? Even the Babelite goddesses conjured up by the big Dream Ritual still sorta hang around a bit. At this point, I think we know more about how to make one than to get rid of one, especially if it's driven by or connected to some sort of artifact. I mean, my own Sphere has to contend with a Sifran-generated god of sorts; Morpheus. He was used to sort of power the big dream ritual even."
"Morpheus? Well, at least he's not hostile, though considering what was done to him I'm a bit surprised he would't be. I would be! Anyway, I've met other spirits -- from ghosts to the aforementioned god-like beings, most of whom weren't hostile, but a few were. The lesser ones seemed to rely on conventional means, but the greater ones -- hostile and not -- had powers I cannot explain easily, or even at all, and a broad range of abilities that only seem limited by their, um, well their style for lack of a better term -- but not always." Tasha twists her muzzle, thinking and tapping the sandwich against her nose a moment before saying, "We killed ours with an artifact, once it had, um, manifested? Incarnated? The artifact disrupted its power somehow, and then physically destroying the body destroyed the spirit. At least, that what the ... The artifact told us."
"But the artifact is unreliable," Tasha adds, waggling her sandwich at Neesa. "It comes with its own concerns, and we don't know how it works. So we need a better way."
"Well, the Babelite mages managed to capture Morpheus and hold him against his will," Neesa notes, and nibbles on her sandwich some more. "We.. uh.. don't know how. That is, we Dream Mages. The ones that weren't secretly involved in the whole thing, that is. But we know Dream Magic was involved, and Morpheus was susceptible to it. For other gods.. well, it would probably depend on their style as you say. I assume Abaddon had influence over.. weapons, or aggression or something?"
"He seemed to be similiar to the Olympian Abaddon, but also different. he appeared to me as a man with skin of burnt, melting iron with blood of lava and eyes of fire. I assumed that he, like Abaddon of Sinai, had some control over fire, and maybe also weapons and other things -- even combatants, as he tried to, um, I think he tried to turn me in to another Sifran guardian, that is, Enyo. When he couldn't convince me, he tried to force me. So I think 'force' is his style. But like I said, I couldn't even interact with him until he came to me, on his terms." Tasha shakes her head, then has another bite as she thinks a momement. After swallowing, she then says, "I've thought maybe he exists in the Sifran Probability Matrix weave itself. He was, well, part of the weave, his pattern existing as whorls inside that layer. Alternatively, he may exist at the interference layer, which is from a seperate system. A wise man explained to me, that he thought the Sifrans intervene with reality between its sour
ce and its projection stage, so he may have existed within that process. But he's dead, so maybe the projection source exists but the end result is broken, so it's 'spot' in reality is gone and ... Well it's complicated! Um, aside from that I've wondered, can't we just reach out with our own spirits to where spirits exist? Are they the same?"
Neesa blinks, clearly not understanding the technical details in Tasha's explanation. "Well.. spirits, from a Mage's perspective, are conjured entities that we control. It's theorized that our own spirits are how we interact with the magic, since.. they're magic. But there's no actually proof. A Spirit Mage can conjure someone's spirit, but not make it perform magic, even if it's the spirit of a living Mage. No, outside of magery, there's sorcery. This is where priests and priestesses and shamans and the like are classified. They don't conjure spirits, but get existing spirits to perform for them. So in that sense, 'gods' can be influenced or controlled through sorcery, by their clergy. But there's no.. spirit realm, really. It can't be said that your or my spirit exists until a Spirit Mage actually causes it to manifest. But again, it's up for debate. Some think that if spirits are what we use to manipulate magic, then we should find a lot more people who can do it.. or even animals.. but t
here must be something more to it than just spirit. And to make it weirder, two Spirit Mages could conjure up your spirit in two different places at the same time, while you're in a third place! But you wouldn't know it, and it doesn't seem that anything your spirits experience would be 'remembered' by you afterwards. Which is what made Remy's case so fascinating."
"Hrrm," goes tasha around a biteof sandwich, her head propped up on her knee now as she listens attentively. She chews longer than needed, taking the time to process the information. At length she swallows, then says, "Then, what is the connection? Spirits can use magic. Mages can use magic. Priests can use magic. it is all a little different, but it's all magic. Conjured spirits cannot use magic. Most people cannot use magic. I cannot use magic, but my spirit is old. Abaddon used magic. I have seen a machine use what appeared to be magic, through artifacts." She squints, ears flicking, then she offers, "In all hese cases it seems like beings if will, or directed will, are the magic users while those without will are not. Faith creates magic. So does study. But it seems like you all go about it differently. But, the one thing you seem to share is that you all believe you can. The source of that belief differs, but, what if ... What if it's honest belief you can change the world?"
"It's that or ... the Sifran System itself decides. There may be a central processing system that determines who can access the reality-reshaping function. It may be as simple as having access permissions," Tasha then offers, head tilting.
"Nobody really knows," Neesa says. "But everyone has an opinion. Whatever you do, do not talk to a Chaos Mage about this topic. You'll never escape. And yeah, will is the key though. See, the 'gods' on Sinai.. they don't actually seem to exhibit will. They have functions and behaviors but they don't change. Except for Amenlichtli, she seems pretty willful. But that goes back to the origins of these things. Some may have started as real people, who just.. ended up as gods, sort of. But once there, they become part of the system or whatever, so they're less effective! Without witches, priests, and so on, those spirits would just sort sit there in the background, showing up on holidays and following their lore."
"The reason why you don't see priests and stuff working magic though is that sorcery is unreliable," Neesa notes. "Magery works, almost all the time. We're trained, we know what we're doing, our results are predictable. You want your tall building to not fall over, you hire an Earth Mage to reinforce it. You want to maybe have it stay up or maybe have it fall over, have a witch or shaman or someone put a blessing on it that may or may not do anything at all."
Tasha's expression shifts at the mention of people-made-gods, a frown crossing her face. She puts her sandwich down as she feelings apetite fade, instead folding both her arms atop her knee. "I've met spirits like that, the people-made-gods, that is. One of them, I'm very close to. I've wondered how I could help her, and she's said she knows how to grow and change. But she's different from the person she was. It feels like she's fading, but I know, too, she has an agenda seperate from her deific status. She's holding on, but barely." The younger woman shakes her head. "Too many questions. I had hoped for some answers, but now I have more questions than answers -- and I suspect the Titanians will be more of the same. maybe I should return to Sinai. I know someone who may have the answer -- or not." She takes a breath, then looks back as she exhales. "So at least there's some reliability to be had. You all use the same 'make building stronger' ritual, and the building is stronger. I wonder, have you ev
er tried recoridng a ritual and having a machine play that recording?"
"A machine? Well, the rituals aren't what create the magic," Neesa notes, dropping her voice a bit, as if this is a big secret. "They're tools. Guides. But it's the mind of the mage that really does it. As mages get better, they can take shortcuts. A ritual that would take me a day to prepare, a true master mage could do in an hour. And sometimes it takes several mages working together. A lot of what we do as apprentices and novices is ritual support - working to maintain energy levels, keep things from skewing out of control and so on. When a mage gets to the point where a ritual is just a cantrip to them.. well, that's rare. The College really prefers mages to not go beyond Master level if they can help it."
Tasha scoots overs, leaning her head, arms and knee in to listen. "So it happens in the mind," she murmurs, nodding, "And not just any mind. Better minds can take shortcuts, so clearly something is happening in the mind. It almost reminds me of a brain-computer-interface! A machine that reads the mind, translating it to another device that then uses it for various things, and vice versa to feed the mind information. I have one. And it seems like your apprentices stabilize this interface, because we all know how minds wander. Purity of interface, that's what it sounds like. mastering the brain-computer-interface."
"So maybe mages are people who are born with the interface, or who can percieve or are otherwise aware of the linkage. Energy sounds like the system working, but it also sounds like it needs constant oversight and may be slow. We've suspected the system isn't at full power for some time, in fact. We may even know why," Tasha adds.
Neesa gives Tasha another odd look. "You know, that the sort of talk that would probably get you arrested by the Technopriests on Rephidim," she says. "It sounds dangerous and unintelligible. But.. not all mages are born with the ability. Sometimes it's the result of exposure to magic. In a sense, you could say that mages are people that magic recognizes."
"You're also beginning to sound like Mage Envoy," Neesa notes. "She claimed to have met the source of magic, and that enabled her to become a mage."
Tasha grins at the chastisement, then tilts her head forward and brushes her hair back. A series of glitetring, silver bumps are clearly visible to the mage. Then, she reaches down farther, pushing the fur on her neck aside, pressing hard. Beyond the fur, interlaced in the skin, is her neural tattoos. "See? It's all very real. I command my Titan with my mind, not my body. I could just be a brain, and I could pilot. That's what I'm saying: I wonder if magic is like that." She lets her hair fall, then sits up. "Do I? She seemed nice enough. But, a source, that sounds like a regulator of some sort. A central system, a 'daemon' -- a regulatory program. That is, a machine mind. But how did she meet it? I've thought it must have a physical body somewhere, though it could very well be world-sized."
"Uh.. I forget where it was," Neesa admits. "And she called it a.. demi-urge? Or Master something. I didn't really interact with her much except during the Dream Ritual thing, since she was involved, and there was this New Year's party.. heh, that was really something! I didn't think she was that fun before, just a bit weird. Then she left Caroban and was killed, then not killed, then I think she was kicked out of the Guild and then killed again, but then she's on Abaddon and I'm told she's not kicked out.. Mage Latania says we shouldn't get involved, that she's trouble." The wolf shrugs. "If I want weird, I can hang out with a Chaos Mage."
"Master ... It sounds like Abaddon, or, well ... It could be a First one. Demiurge ... Hrrm." Reaching for her datapad pouch, Tasha produces the item then begins manipulating it. "Killed and not killed? It sounds like we have a lot more in common than I thought. I've met her, she helped us out a bit, but we knew about her political problems and have taken the same stance as the College: we thank her, but we don't get involved and we don't bring our problems down on her either. It's the least we can do." The young woman finishes entering the data in to her pad: a request for information from the JEf archieves about 'Master Demi-urge.' "I'm probably flying in to a hurricane here, though. I don't need to know the details, but I am an explorer and I do like to understand."
Beyond a definition for 'demi-urge', there isn't much in the archives: an historical philosophical concept of an artisan-like figure responsible for the fashioning and maintenance of the physical universe.
"Well I'm sure it's all written down somewhere on Caroban or the old Esoterica campus on Rephidim," Neesa suggests. "Then again, I think there was a lot of Temple-involved stuff too, so it might be secret or something."
Tasha glances down at her datapad, blinking. Usually her requests turn up nothing, just vague connections and cultural similiarities that mean very little in the end. She suspects what shes may be another of these, but shew asn't expecting it to be so spot-on in its descriptor. "Well, how about that? My datapad found a match: Demi-urge is a historical concept, a godlike artisan figure responsible for maintenance of the physical universe -- that sounds a lot like what we're discussing. It sounds like a larger scale, overseer level being higher than Abaddon. But you know, I've never heard of a Titanian mage, or a Vartan mage. I wonder if it just doesn't like some people?" She looks up, turning the datapad so Neesa can read it too. "I could ask the Temple, I have some, um, well contacts there. But maybe it should wait, or be left to someone who's more suited? I have so much to do ... But finding the answer would be a worthy adventure."
"Yeah, that.. sorta sounds like the fount of all magic I guess," Neesa agrees. "As for no Vartan or Titanian mages.. that's not actually the case. Vartans are very anti-magic on Sinai, so those that do have the ability rarely develop it.. but there are a few that have, usually via private tutors. And Titanians are not exempt, I'm sure. Even Kavi mages have appeared, and Nohbakim and even Savanites. So I wouldn't rule out Titanians. They just may never know it or be in a position to exploit it.. and we don't go around recruiting in Titania."
"Really? Well I'm not surprised about Savanites, I've personally seen what they could do with their magic, and it was world-shattering to say the least. And, wow, Vartan mages? I guess I shouldn't be surprised; I didn't want to see something for the longest time, so I never thought to look for it. But there it is." Tasha shakes her head, ears canting back and giving a guilty smile. "I thought maybe that certain, um, races associated with the First Ones might be rejected by the system, but I believe that the system isn't fully under Sifran control, either. And you say they just never found talent, too ... How do you find out if you can use magic? Some complicated test?"
"Well, sometimes.. it depends," Neesa says. "For me, it was having weird dreams.. other people's dreams. Like my mother and stuff. So they sent me to get tested, and I was told I had a talent for Dream Magic.. and that was that. Sometimes though people go in to get tested during an open-house.. well, we don't do those anymore. Sometimes someone is using magic and causing a scene, and we go in to investigate. If they're genuine, we offer them the chance to come and learn... and if they refuse, we kill them, generally. Rogue mages, hedge wizards, witches.. they can cause a lot of damage. But we don't go looking for them anymore. We wait until someone asks us to look into things."
"What about the dreams of a god?" Tasha asks, head tilting and a frown on her face. She then raises her brow and also asks, "Did you say you kill them?"
"But the most common way for people to find out they can use or perceive magic is to be around a Mage," the Karnor notes. "Because if a Mage is working magic, and you can suddenly sense it happening, then you've got potential. About a quarter of those can only learn one or two spells though, or only be able to sense it and not control it."
"I think that leaves me out then. I never sensed anything during the rituals, I only ever dream of things, and I can commune with a certain god because we share a common connection. I used to have faith, but, well, Abaddon shattered that along with a great deal else -- there wasn't any magic going on when I believed, either," Tasha notes.
"There's no way to.. take away someone's magic, so yes, we have to kill them," Neesa notes. "Although Envoy lost her magic and got it back.. that's a first. But again, she's weird and has a weird brain or something. Really weird. So.. maybe machines can do magic, if they can think like a person. Or reasonably close to a person. And are exposed to lots of magic. And have strange-attraction. It's all really random if you ask me personally. No one in my family is a Mage."
"It does sound very random. At least with the sciences and engineering, you can reasonably expect results and cause-and-effect are often obvious," says the mostly Vartan.
"And at your age, you don't want to get involved with magic training, trust me," Neesa notes. "I started when I was eight years old, and only recently got my Journeyman rating."
"As for killing someone because they don't agree with you, as a precaution, I can't say I agree with that. Actually, I'd say I'm very much against it, but then my approach to these things is quite different. I won't argue about it with you, but I feel the need to say i disapprove, and I'll leave it at that." The red woman eyes Neesa a moment, to make sure she understands, then breaks off the stare and tilts her head. "Training takes that long? At least that remains the same. I'm really flying in to a wall, education wise. I've been trying to catch up, but reaching the level of other professionals and JEF-eligables, let alone Gabriel's level, seems like trying to fly in to space using my wings."
"An untrained magic user is dangerous," Neesa notes. "They could cause a lot of harm, create or become a monster.. and if they come to our attention it's because they're already causing trouble. But it's still a bit contentious of a topic, even today. As for training.. it really does depend on talent. Some people can sail through in a few years. Of course, I lost a few years because of the stupid war and having to relocate and the Babel fiasco. I couldn't do anything during a lot of that. That's why I nearly went sky-walking."
"Well, we have some time, why don't you test me to be sure? At the very least, I'll have some idea as to how that works if it ever becomes important. I meet a lot of people across mmany nations, and I never know who -- or what -- I'll run in to, so it'd be good to know. Plus, I don't want you dwelling the war." Tasha grins, then holds her hands out. "help Aldara Tasha fail another test, come on. I'm sure Captain Frane will magically appear and tell me to study harder."
"And besids, I already had the chance to destroy the world, and I declined! You can trust me," the feather-faced woman promises, grinning a little more.
"Um.. well.. I can't test you," Neesa says, a bit apologetically. She does offer Tasha her cookie though. "See, it's a bit involved. You need to have an idea of your affinity first, then, depending on the Sphere, some magic is pooled up and you're given a chance to see if you can access it in any way."
"Oh? Well now I feel silly -- ooh, cookie!" Tasha grabs the cookie with both hands, making a show of nibbling on it, ears wiggling.
When she's done, she lowers it and grins. "Well, maybe some day then. I'm not going to bet on any results, but seeing the process is worth something by itself. Right now though, I think I shoulf focus on the other inscrutibly magical wolves on trip: the Titanians."
"You could always visit Caroban for testing," Neesa suggests with a grin. "It's really a fantastic place." She looks out of the window, into the distance. She even sniffs the air. "We should be at the Gateway station before too long," she notes. "I feel a tingle."
"The tower is a big magical beacon, I bet. I don't feel a thing though. I may just ahve to stick to stabbing things and reading," Tasha says as she also looks out the window. "By the way, this is probably nothing to worry over, but, if anything does happen during the research expedition, I want you to try to get to safety. Both as a JEF cadet and as Remiel's friend, I am obligated to protect you -- so please be careful and if it comes to it, head for safety. I will deal with it."
"But I would like to see Caroban," Tasha notes, trying to reduce any anxiety her warning may cause.
"The area around the tower actually," Neesa notes. "A hint of wild magic.. and a smell of sulfur. Do you think the Titanians are going to abduct you or something?"
"Who knows? Titanians are hard to predict, and their desires and ethics are hard to fathom some times. If they do try to grab us, then I'd rather they grab me," the red woman explains, looking back to the mage.
"Besides, I am a warrior of Abaddon. Protecting people is my job," the younger woman adds, winking.
"I thought we were just going to their fish market to chat," Neesa notes. The train whistle blows, so they must be approaching their destination.
"First the chat, then maybe more. I have time set aside for this and I intend to do it to the best of my ability -- and there's a lot I'd like to know. If it happens that I need to go with them, that's what I'll do," Tasha notes as she reaches down to help clean up the leftover food. "Exploration is also my job."
Neesa doesn't argue. Within the next half hour, their train pulls into the Gateway station.. which is still some distance from the actual Gateway - but the geodesic steel frame of the new life dome is visible at least. They manage to catch a ride on a truck heading towards the outer ring, where the various non-Kampfzengruppe buildings and markets are. Neesa hops off outside the walled compound for the Mages, and tells Tasha she'll catch up at the airfield. Things look different from the last time Tasha was here: the dome supports are completed, and work has begun on the outer surface. There aren't masses of Imperial refugees camped out, and things seem pretty quiet. The Dainty Mauler dominates the landscape, still looking like a bizarre, oversized sailing ship though from a distance, complete with masts. There's also a crowd at the airfield, and since it's still daytime they probably aren't there for the holo-drama show.
Not needing to walk with Neesa occupied elsewhere, Tasha wings her way to the crowd and touches down near the edge of the mass of people. With the walls up, the everpresent dust isn't as bad and she foregoes throwing up her hood and covering her muzzle, glad to see the progress and what must be a great relief to the people there.
As she nears the crowd, she walks up to the nearest person and asks, "'Hoy there, something going on?"
"Star Eel wrestling," the Vartan next to her notes. There's a mechanical noise, as part of the ship's hull begins to open up. A Titan walks out, raising it's arms up and waving to the crowd. There's no head on it, just a roll-cage of sorts and a grinning Titanian's face sticking up out of the torso. It's Blammo!
"Thanks!" Tasha barks, even as she's already heading towards the opening hatch. She makes her way through the crowd, moving towards the front where she also waves to the larger wolf. "Hi, Blammo!" She call out.
It isn't clear if Blammo spots her in the crowd, since there's still some distance between them. The reason for this is made clear as another part of the ship opens up.. or rather, slides out, like a giant drawer. Water splashes and spills over the sides, and crowd cheers as a sea monster leaps out and attacks the Titan. It looks like an eel, but has clawed sort-of-arms.. and its hind end isn't a tail or a fin but a mass of tentacles. It has glowing green spots and markings on its black skin.. and it looks very angry.
Tasha's ears shoot up at the sight of the thing, which she's certain she's never see before and certain she probably never wanted to, save at a considerable distance. If not for the warning about there being a wrestling contest involving eels, she'd be considerably more worried as she watches the fight begin. I hope he knows what he's doing, she thinks, feeling confident that he must if he arranged the bout -- though she also reminds herself he's a Titanian and then she feels a great deal less certain!
For the next ten minutes, monster and machine do battle. The eel tries to bite off Blammo's head (which becomes a possibility after it wrenches the roll-cage away) and Blammo counters by literally trying to tie the monster into a knot. And while the action is thrilling, it's clearly a lost cause for the monster, since it's out of the water and probably suffocating as it fights. It finally gives in, and the rest of the crew start rolling oversized grills down the gangplank, while others carry big axes and wear aprons. One young looking Titanian hooks a hose up to the big monster tank and starts washing the eel-gunk off of Blammo's Titan.
Impressed, not to mention glad to see someone else doing the monster fighting for once, Tasha enjoys the show and even picks up a few ideas by the time it's done.
Once it's over, she sees her chance to approach and so simply begins walking towards the smaller Titan, intent on reaching her old adventuring companion.
Plenty of others are milling about, while a large part of the crowd disperses. It's clear that the defeat of the monster is just the first step in an elaborate fish fry, as massive steaks are hacked out of the creature and tossed onto the grills. One of the grills has a faded, but no less ominous, warning symbol for nuclear power. Blammo is climbing down from the Titan just as Tasha reaches it, and smiles and wags his tail at the sight of his friend. "Tasha!" he barks.
"Blammo!" Tasha repeats, walking up to the man and holding her hands out for what she's sure will be a crushingly good hug. "You showed that eel!"
The hug comes as expected, lifting Tasha off her feet and treating her to the smell of Star Eel slobber that still coats part of Blammo. "Hey you got new hand and eye," the big wolf notes. "Got other new stuff? Where your big shiny ship? Diddit crash?"
"Blew up face," Tasha explains, finding ehrself easily slipping in to the Titanian's simple but to the point pidgin. She would wave at her face too, but she's sure she's stuck for the moment. "Killed god though, so was okay. Broke new Titan, not okay. Got shiny new sword, don't want to break though. Ship okay! How you?"
"Good!" Blammo says, lowering Tasha to the ground. "Got Titan! So real big now. Girls like me," he adds, and waggles an eyebrow. "Third second in command now!"
"Oh, what god you kill?" the Titanian thinks to ask. "Ultra god or mini god or nephew god?"
"What not too like?" Tasha reaches up and pats the man's face, then falls in beside him so that he can go about getting ready while talking. "Got promotion? Me, too! Pilot-cadet now, go to school. Not do well, but that's okay. Fought lots of monsters, helped kill Tesla. Big party!" She walks beside hi, finding herself settling in to a simple contentment, something she always seems to feel around Titanians; deep down, she wonders if she and they may be more similiar than being canines. "Oh, big fire god -- called himself Abaddon. Confusing, I know. Maybe angel? Probably angel."
"Ah! Yeah, gods are tough," Blammo says, nodding as they head towards the food. Tasha can see Neesa arriving as well. "Grand-mom-uncle killed corn god. Big fight!"
"Corn god huh? Notlike corn?" Tasha asks as she walks along. As they pass Neesa, she waves the woman to follow them to the dining area. "Hey Blammo, came here for mission. Maybe talk to captain? Here to study!"
"Corn.." Blammo mutters, looking lost in thought for a moment. "What? Cap'n Rushfighter? What you come to learn? Who pretty little one?" He apparently has noticed Neesa coming their way.
"This Mage Neesa," Tasha explains, not dropping the pidgin and grining for it. "Mage Neesa, Dream Mage Neesa! Mate of Remy, friend of mate -- my friend too! Neesa! This Blammo, he third second in command. Very important." She then winks to the other woman before turning back to Blammo, "Ya Captain Rushfighter! Here to study Titanians, new project! You help right?" She then gives Blammo the big eyes look, ears back and plaintive.
"I help!" Blammo says, striking a fist against his chest.
"Good! Thank you!" Tasha pats the man; She would patc his shoulder but she can't actually reach it, so pats his arm instead. "So eel good? Where you get?"
"Is there a second-second in command?" Neesa asks. This causes Blammo to start laughing. "Hah! Funny! Second-second! I like her," he gets out. "Cap'n be somewhere.. he'll come for food though!"
"It come from Star Sea, like all bigguns," Blammo explains. "It a god fish. Taste really good."
"Ya Neesa funny. Good sandwiches, good cookies. Sleep well." Tasha glances at the crowd as they pass through it, smiling and having a good time. "Really? Abaddon not taste good. Mostly dead. Not fight tasty god -- have bad luck right? can I see Star Sea?"
"You come with us, you see it," Blammo says, and starts herding the women towards the nearest (non nuclear powered) grill. "It a sea. Between the stars. Good fishing." The eel monster does smell nice. There's no telling what the cook is seasoning it with though, but whatever it is he uses a sawed-off shotgun to apply it. Or maybe the steak just wasn't dead enough yet. Either way, it makes Neesa bark out in surprise.
Tasha considers the offer for a moment, then simply shrugs. Well, between Nora and Abaddon I lost my confidence, but Remy helped me find it again. But it still needs work, and I did want to find another way to learn. Oh, why not? I'm an explorer -- an adventurer. I should act like it. "Hokay! I go with." And that's that; It happens much more suddenly than Tasha expected, but between Titanians and the various other sudden changes, she finds the courage to roll with it.
Decision made, Tasha settles in to it, watching the shotgun-cook with increasing amusement as she thinks of what a trip aboard the Daity Mauler is going to be like. "Is like sea on planet? Maybe wait for surprise? I help fix things, not be a burden!"
"No, not like sea on planet," Blammo says, and tells the cook, "More rock-pepper!" He then turns to Tasha and says.. "And yes, like sea on planet. Only not. Just sea."
"Like sea everywhere, up and down and ... Everywhere?" Tasha asks, head tilting both in confusion and to peer past the man to the eel that is making her increasingly hungry.
"up, down, side-side.. back-forwards and.. other," Blammo explains, and makes a twirly motion with one finger. The cook produces a black rock, which he crushes in his hand and sprinkles across the steak.. then smacks it in with a tenderizing hammer.
"Sounds complicated," Tasha notes, cocking her head the other way. "Maybe like lots of dimension? Like warp or hyper or gate-travel?"
"Do you actually understand him?" Neesa asks Tasha. A figure emerges from the ship and strides down the gangplank, followed by a second one all in green. Rushfighter and (first-second in command) Grillfang.
"Star Sea," Blammo explains. "Just.. Star Sea. Go all over. Follow the winds. Old Ma navigate."
Tasha pauses to blink at Neesa, grinning at the question. "Ya," she barks, then she clears her throat and clarifies, "Yes. The more we talk the easier it is, but some things I still don't know. It's fun though, isn't it? Gabriel said I made a good barbarian. That's the Captain by the way." She sticks out her tongue while pointing at the man, then turns to nod to Blammo. "Think I understand but don't. Understand the not understanding; Understand the answer but not question. Theory!" She then pauses to wave to the Captain.
Grillfang actually spots Tasha first, and points her out to Rushfighter. The pair approach. "Ah, Tasha," the captain says. "You made it back from moon on your own, good. Any more Titans up there?"
"Left moon when you did, not been back. AI control moon now, have nation. Can't go back, have to ask; Might get mad," Tasha explains, gesturing up at where she just decides the moon must be with her taloned hand. "Here to study! Study Titanians! Mind if do? Blammo said okay, maybe go see Sea of Stars? Ya? Please?"
"Study?" Rushfighter asks, and looks.. embarrassed? "Naked? We go fishing in a few days, you come then. Can you fish?"
Neesa tries not to smirk at the Titanian's reaction.
"What? No, not naked!" Tasha insists, planting a hand on her hips. "Study, like book! Learn things, explore, find out! Research maybe? Learn about Titanians, learn history and culture and machine-y how-do. Ya?" She waggles a finger at the man using her free hand, then leans back. "Fishing? Maybe? Different sea though. can fish in air and from air to ground and from ground to water. Maybe from ground to air. I learn?"
"Hokay, sure," Rushfighter says. "You catch a biggun, all good. You talk to Old Ma for rest. Not sure can learn machines. Not been tried with little wolves."
"I smart, figure it out. Not be a bother! Can fix, maybe cook, can talk to kitty machines with brain. Pilot Titan! No bring Titan though; repairing," Tasha promises, meanwhile throwing Neesa a thumbs up. "Where Ma?"
Rushfighter thumbs over his shoulder to the ship. "Inside. Always," he says. "Needed."
"I go?" Tasha asks. "Not eat all eel?" She then glances to Neesa and insists, "Save eel for me! Going inside now, bye!" Then she winks again, turning towards the gangplank and heading inside.
As she goes, Tasha can't help but find acting Titanian to be a bit infectous. The simple, short exchanges, the happy-g-lucky attitude, the focus on what's right infront of them and their pleasant demeanour are like a version of her own life tinted in pleasanter shades.
Neesa trails along behind her, smelling nervous. "Do.. you know where you're going?" she asks Tasha.
"Nuh-uh," answers Tasha, tail wagging as she heads deeper inside. "Are you sure you want to come with me? Someone does need to protect my slice of eel, and I'm not sure Blammo can handle the temptation."
"How could I protect it? I'm small!" Neesa notes. Tasha is able to find the control room (if that's what it really is) where Rushfighter sits and the crew 'rows' the high-tech oars. She recalls the rest of the ship (what little she's seen of it) as a mishmash of rooms and corridors.
"Hrrm," goes Tasha as she looks over the controls. After a minute of this, she walks over to where she remembers the intercom was, then pushes what she thinks is the right button. "Ma?" She tries.
Nothing sounds over the intercom. After all, the Titanians never used it.. they communicated through the ship with Hammersong.
"Hey!" barks a surprisingly small Titanian from the other side of the chamber. It may be an actual cub! "Got candy?" he asks.
"Decoration!" Tasha frowns, leaning back. She thinks a moment about Hammersong, but doubts she can produce it out of thin air. "Oh well, more walking. We find it eventually! Come, come." And then she stalks back in to the corridor -- only to run in to the cub! (?)
The red woman peers at the cub, resisting a momentary urge to hug him and but not the sudden surge of maternal affection. "Aww, hi! Where Ma?" She glances to her companion now. "Neesa! Got cookie?"
"Yes," Neesa admits, and produces another cookie from her robes. "It's my last cookie," she notes, ever the Karnor when it comes to food.
"Gimme!" the cub says, and bounds forwards on all fours. "Ma? Old Ma?" he asks.
Tasha then nods towards the child. "The mission demands sacrifice of us all, Neesa. Today, it is your cookie! I will see it recieves a posthumous meritorial recognition." She then looks back to the cub and nods. "Ya Old Ma, Captain said see her. Not sure where, button not work."
Neesa hands over the cookie, which quickly vanishes. "Hokay, come come follow!" the cub says, and bounds off towards an unfamiliar door.
Tasha waves Neesa along after, walking -- then running -- to keep up with the child!
It's quite a challenge, as the cub doesn't stick to the floor, often jumping up (or down) ladderways and tubes (although the slide one is fun) as he leads the pair deeper and deeper into the ship. "I hope he's going to show us the way back out," Neesa gasps. Mages tend not to be the fittest of folks it seems.
Tasha slows down once she sees Neesa in trouble, then scoops her up and resumes her sprint. "Ya," she barks over the sound of the wind, "I'm staying but I don't think you want to! Might not be back for a while."
"They said they weren't leaving for a few days," the mage gasps, then nearly falls over when they come to a door where the cub has stopped. Apparently because it's closed and he can't reach the handle. "Ma here!" he barks, tail wagging.
Tasha slows to a halt, letting Mage Neesa down and panting a bit from the running, though not exhausted. She walks up to the door and reaches for the latch with one hand, her other hand landing on the child's head so she can pat him, unable to resist.
This elicits more tail wags. The door itself looks like something ancient, forged of iron and heavy. It reminds Tasha of a boiler hatch. Like all of the other doors on the ship, it's unmarked - but then since no two of them have been alike maybe there's no reason to label them.
Deciding that one of the first things she's going to do when staying on the ship is walk around until she knows wheere everything is and she can find them blindfolded, Tasha tenses her legs and then jerks the heavy latch open, swinging the door wide. "Old Ma? Captain said see you," she announces, to brace the sudden intrusion.
The room beyond is dark, dimly lit by spheres of glowing (or backlit) fluids. "Who there?" an old vaguely female voice crackles.
"I Aldara Tasha, this Mage Neesa. I going to be on ship during next fishing, Captain said see you, handle rest. That okay?" Tasha replies, peering in to the darkness. While her vision may be keen, it's no use if there isn't enough light and she's no better off than anyone else in the dark. All she can see are the strange fluids, making her wonder just what they're made of.
There's something further in the room that moves a little. "Oh, can't smell good no more," Old Ma says. "Come closer. Can't see. You sound young."
Tasha glances back at Neesa, patting her hand a moment to reassure her -- and herself -- before she turns back to the darkness. "Coming," she notes as she carefully makes her way forward. "Am young, nineteen."
"Heh, just a girl," Old Ma says. As Tasha gets closer she can make out more. It looks like slumped figure in a wheelchair.. except there aren't wheels. And the blanket over her legs isn't that either, it's metal. The old woman's torso is emerging from a block of machinery. There's some sort of inflated vest covering most of her, and metal gloves on her hands and forearms. Aside from her muzzle, her head is covered in an elaborate helmet. And there are tubes and wires everywhere, connecting Old Ma into the walls and ceiling and floor. "I'm.. uh.. two-hunnert-sumthin, I reckon. What brings ye to Avionics, Aldara?"
Tasha pauses as she begins to get a look, her eyes widening as her eyes confirm what she believes she's seeing -- a life support system, and a brain-computer interface in to the entire ship! It takes her several seconds to recover from the surprise, and would take longer except that she has her own variation of the system, and has spent time in a tank as well.
Just, never this much. Nor this long.
The young woman wonders how long the other has been here, but quickly decides her silence is rude, and so pushes herself to speak. "Oh, um, the Captain said so," she replies, forgetting the pidgin for a moment, "Said you could help me? Get ready for the trip? I'm an explorer, I've come to research the Titanians. I'll be going with you, in to the ... The Sea."