After an hour of watching to make sure Lucky Kaa actually knows what he's doing, Gabriel relieves himself and strolls down the long central corridor of the Dark Horse, finally reaching the lift at the end where the hall splits to join up with the airlocks. A short ride later brings him to the executive deck. "Tasha?" he calls, unfamiliar with the layout.
The room is new to the elder Karnor, although he'd really only been up here twice -- once to see the empty deck after it had been completed and again to bed down with Tasha. The bed had simply been in the open, between two elevators, giving the sleeping accomidation a strangely public feel. Now, however, things are very different!
A large, square room sprawls out infront of him. He knew from watching the ship's schematic diagram and from the Niss's comment to avoid the deck that work was underway here, but he hadn't looked in to it in detail. A cursory look around shows a location plate, which looks unfinished. "Ship's Lounge," it explains. There are four hatches here, two to the port and starboard, and two more leading aft. The room is otherwise empty.
"Gabriel?" Comes Tasha's voice over the intercom system. He can't hear her speaking in person, so she musn't be nearby. "The Niss told me you were coming this way. Head aft, through either of the aft doors, then further aft through the double doors. By the way, in the next room, the two small rooms port and starboard are unassigend -- they'd make a good office or armoury."
Gabriel follows the directions, commenting to himself, "Gotta remind her to include a map next to the lift."
In reality, very little has been included except walls and lightning. Even the unused spaces have little more than, "D2: Port Office," and the repeat for starboard. It has a very work-in-progress feel, to say nothing of the lack of ammenities. When he passes through the double doors, though, things change.
Sprawling the same size as the lounge area, the room Gabriel enters is clearly meant for personal living. Circling the Horse's harness spire, central, iare two C shaped couches, unpadded, while fore-starboard has a small dining area, and fore-port what appears to be a general work area. The area has many doors and one elevator entrance: Two doors and the elevator aft, more port and starboard central, and of course the double doors he entered through to the fore.
All these rooms have labels. Starboard, where there are two: Tasha's Quarters, Shower. Aft Starboard: Tasha's Study -- it says how much she's changed that she now willingly created a room with 'study' in the name. Aft Port: Meeting Room. Port: Storage. The last gives name to the fore section Gabriel just left: D2 Corridor. But one thing is missing: Tasha isn't here.
"My study, keep going," the intercom announces.
The Karnor goes through the Study door, expecting to see the hangar bay through the back wall. "I thought you'd be napping," he comments as he enters.
Instead, Tasha is sitting at a desk that wasn't here before. It's a large desk, with a large Vartan-accomidating chair. And in that chair, is Tasha. "I thought so too, but it was hard for me to sleep in such a wide open, empty, people-less room. So, I figured I might as well work on this deck, while I was up here." She desk is also C shaped, facing the way Gabriel just entered with the hangar overlook to its left -- just as Gabriel predicted. The desk to alive with displays and lights, most of which Gabriel recognizes as reporst on the ship's activities, travel time, and the location of the crew. There's also a galactic travel map and floating over the desk is a projection of the current floor. Tasha has her feet up, looking comfortable, muzzle pursued in thought.
"I considered painting too, but a empty room with a bed isn't very inspiring. I'm working on that too. Anyway, what do you think?" She asks a moment later, looking away from the diagram to her mate and gesturing about her, brows raised.
"I'm surprised there aren't curtains," Gabriel says, and grins. "You kept the bar outside too, which is good. Now that we're underway.. anything you want to talk about, regarding our passenger?"
"She makes me nervous, but there wasn't much to be done about it." Tasha gestures towards one of the chairs across from her. Her own chair isn't suited for lap-sitting, her's or her mate's making the choice the only one. Once Gabriel is seated, she continues. "I might be wrong, but I figured it was just a matter of time before the Terragen -- just Terragen? -- government noticed us. Strange ship, heroes appearing after thousands of years, chimera, and then there's Miss Treachery too. So, I thought giving her a look at us would help things along in our favor. Show them we're amiable, maybe not a threat. Make the first move, you know? I just wasn't expecting a psychic."
"On the face of it.. well, she's on a secret mission of some sort, and we are another big secret - and the Terragens are really good at keeping big secrets," Gabriel notes. "In that sense we can trust her. The bigger question is what her mission is. Did you get a good look at what she brought aboard?"
"No, except that she had several regular-looking storage boxes and something that looked like a large coffin. That one she picked up herself, so unless it's a feint, it's probably the important one. I was planning to have the Niss attempt to scan the items, except we discovered she was a psychic, and now I'm not sure how to handle it. I don't know if she can detect the Niss, or what she managed to get out of me." Sitting up, Tasha swaps the projection display to a a full-ship internal, showing passenger positions. She peers at it, looking for the agent. "She's probably trying to learn what she can about us too, though. So, what do you think we should do Gabe?"
The display shows their guest still in her cabin.. apparently asleep, or meditating, from the respiration readouts.
"She isn't interrogating Doc Knight or the Phin," Tasha notes, then she looks up at her mate, waiting for his thoughts on the matter.
"I don't know yet," Gabriel says. "Nothing until we get to her mystery spot, at least. She was with the dolphins.. and more specifically the 'renegade' dolphins.. which means her package is something she doesn't want the Galactics finding out about. You've been to Encante and know there were ancient artifacts there, so chances are this is another one."
"An ancient race of aquatic people, probably victims of the Sifras like everyone else. I'd put them at Old Ones. Oh, I know ... Lets ask our resident Old Ones." Looking up slightly, Tasha thinks as she asks, "Niss, when we were in orbit near the planet known as Encante, did the region of space look familiar to you? Did you notice the ruins beneath the water, and do you know who they belong to? Also, we suspect Dr. Sen may have an artifact for these ruins, can you detect anything like that?"
"That world is not known to us," the Niss report. "It was not there when we were last active in normal space. While submerged, the Dark Horse cannot engage in thorough planetary scanning, so we do not know of any ruins. Dr. Sen's large container is shielded from passive probing as well as from quantum resonance. It may contain a stasis field or quantum jamming."
"Thank you Niss," Tasha says, also thinking it. She then turns to Gabriel and spreads her hands. "That's some container. Of course, I'm new to Galactoc technology, so maybe every safe has it? Well, we know she doesn't want prying eyes, which isn't a surprise to either of us. I'd talk to her, but I think that'd be one sided -- in her favor. Are the Elite designed to resist psionics? Do you think she recognized you?"
"The jamming and shape suggest a body, I think," Gabriel says. "Our only 'resistance' to psionics is our sense of smell, since it can bypass the higher reasoning centers that would be effected by psi-tech. We'd heard old spacer tales of supposed psionic monsters that could warp space with their minds, and the usual ghost stories. But those are mainly for earning free drinks in bars."
"As for if she recognized us.. I'd give that a seventy-five percent likelihood," the Karnor offers.
"And of course, they're all true." Tasha settles back in her chair, hands in her lap. She grins, albiet wryly. "Well, I'm sure Terragen already had some idea after you withdrew the credits from your account. This probably will confirm it. They'll contact you eventually, won't they? What worries me is why, because you've seen the modern Karnors: They're different and subservient to you. It's disturbing, isn't it? I know I think so. But it could be worse for us. I was thinking, maybe they'd be afraid you'd try to take command of the Karnor, or, suggest to other Galactics Terra is creating new soldier-Karnor. Or am I worrying too much?"
"The senior Galactics always underestimate Terra," Gabriel says. "They'll help to keep us secret, I think. They need the Primus colonies to be safe."
"That's good. I'd hate to be responsible for bringing problems to Primus. I think I've done enough to back home. Or ... " Here Tasha frowns, glancing out across the hangar and pausing in thought, looking pensive. After a moment she says, "Maybe not enough ... " Her head shakes, and she glances back. "It seems like, the more I go, the closer to get to Terra. I know you came from Terra, and nearly everyone of this crew and those back home -- my friends -- are Terran. But I'm not sure I want to take sides. Not yet. Hopefully they don't ask us to."
"You don't trust the Khattans," Gabriel notes. "You'll probably trust the Vartans though. Right now.. I don't know who to trust. We're heading someplace the Librarians kept hidden. So it's either someplace important to the Khattans or Celestials.. or someplace that scares them and they don't want anyone else finding it."
"Plenty enough of either, I'm sure." The young woman turns back to Gabriel more fully, then leans forward to place her head on her hands, resting them on her desk. "And you're right: I don't trust the Khattans. They haven't given me any reason to do so, and the more I learn the worse it looks. I'm sure tehy're not all bad, but the big picture seems like it might be. And Vartans, well, out here we mostly work for the Khattans. That's probably going to be a problem for me, sooner or later, but I'll worry about it when it happens. Right now, I'm more worried about our own Khattan machine: Mel. I don't trus the Khattans to not have sabotauged him, so I'm thinking of having the Niss look."
"Do you think they had something installed in case it was returned to Khattan space?" Gabriel asks.
"Maybe. I didn't want to be paranoid, but these days it seems like I can't be paranoid enough. Even Treachery said it was a good idea, and she has the experience to know." Standing, Tasha walks over to the hangar overlook and peers down across the bay, to her Titan. She gestures towards it and says, "It already has an old Khattan, a PersoCom 'Plus' installed. That wasn't mentioned. It has the hidden Marker system. It was clearly intended to be a secret mission, and they trusted it to a Vartan. All of the pilots weren't Khattan. I don't trust the Khattans to be selfless and altruistic." She turns back to Gabriel and asks, "So, want to investigate with me?"
"You know me, gotta keep digging up bones," Gabriel says with a grin. "Got an idea of where to start? You mentioned some smuggler contact when you got back from Sinai, I think."
Tasha waggles her hand towards the exit, heading that way. "Someone on Daltoona Station. I don't want to dig in to the Khattans until we're ready. Right now the crew is still new, incomplete, and, we don't have a finished ship. Of the Galactics, they're the strongest and at least one House may be our enemy -- a powerful, old House. That's a lot of danger. We may not get a choice to wait though, if they come looking for us. But until then ... " she steps outside, then nods towards the double doors, " ... we can try to be ready. Lets fetch the Niss, and see if they can scan Mel. I'd like to free him from whatever shackles they put on him, and whatever they hope to do to me."
Some time later, the pair stands again before the kneeling, disguised Titan. In Tasha's hands, the wrinkled ball that is the Niss collective turns the attention of its trillions of minds towards the great machine. Over the comm pendants worn by Tasha and Gabriel, the Niss reports, "There are no signals emanating from the Titan. No entanglement links or extra-spatial information is being transferred."
"That's good. I'd be surprised if there was, but it's good to be sure. Lets get closer." Bringing the Niss forward, Tasha walks to the frame and leans in, under the new armor, to try and find a original-armor contact point. As she does, she asks, "I'll need to enter the cockpit in a moment, do you wnat to come along?" of Gabriel.
"I need to stay out here in case Eli calls," Gabriel says. "And to pull you out if you trigger a hidden poison gas trap or something."
"That's why I love you: You save me from poison gas traps!" Bent over, Gabriel can only see Tasha's tail wagging, but it sure wags a lot. After more fidgeting and squirming, she finds the contact point: The energy and diagnositic input line hatch. Opening, she then slides the Niss in. "Okay Niss, see what you can find from the diagnostic port."
"All systems are dormant, and no problems have been logged since previous activation," the Niss reports. "Energy reserves are at ninety percent."
"I'll have to top that off later." Leaning back, the young woman walks far enough away from the wings of both her Titan and the nearby shuttle, then sprints across the bay until she has sufficent speed to get airborne. A few loops around the bay later, she lands atop her machine and enters it.
Once Tasha is in the pilot position, the Titan begins to wake up. "Hello, Tasha," the Melchior greets.
"Hi Mel. I've brough a friend -- friends aboard. Congradulations, you can now say you've had board, and carried, millions of people!" After settling in to the command seat, Tasha places the Niss on its armrest, her right hand resting atop it. "Meet the Niss. Niss: Mel, Mel: Niss. I told you about my travel and combat body? Well this is it, and Mel is its AI controller. My shadow."
"Kind of a, uh, 'juxtaposition' of how we met, isn't it Niss? Now I'm connect to my travel body, and you're here to help me," the pilot observes.
"Greetings," the Niss says, although there's some sense of a deeper communication going on.
"You're talking in machine, aren't you? Don't think I don't know. I spend too much time around you all," the young ship owner remarks. She shifts, laying her hand atop the unused armrest, and her head on that. "I hope you two get along."
"There is a problem," the Niss relays. "We cannot scan this mind. It exceeds the Observer Threshold of awareness."
"The what?" Asks Tasha, whose brows go up.
"It is capable of thinking about itself," the Niss clarify.
"Like me?" Tasha asks. "Or is this something different?"
"Like you, yes," the Niss explains. "It is not Niss, however. We cannot integrate with it without risking cross contamination."
"Alright, that's good enough then. I don't want to endanger either of you." After thinking a moment, Tasha suggests, "Lets examine other systems. I can wait, if this will take awhile. There's another mind contained within the datastores, a Khattan mind, and several concealed systems I can unlock through personal control. I'm mainly concerned with traps, such as means to control the pilot, remote access, and other hidden means to manipulate the machine and pilot outside the pilot's own control."
After several minutes pass, the Niss reports, "No means of external control have been found. However, there is record of external control."
"Yes?" Tasha asks, ears perking and brows raising all over again.
"The system operated without a pilot in order to retrieve the pilot," the Niss claim. "There is no record of the control that was involved, only that it must have happened."
"It did happen. I wouldn't be here if it hadn't, since I lost that battle. It's how this," the young woman lfts her hand to gesture at her face, using her taloned hand, " ... happened. A Sifran demon. We fought and I lost, and it tried to take control of the machine I was piloting -- and me as well. It would have succeeded, except Mel showed up and saved me. Mel and ... " leaning forward, the pilot pulls at a hidden drawer, then removes a peculiar, inscribed object with a surface like water. "... this. An Origin Marker."
"We do not understand. You are not holding anything," the Niss claim.
"Can't see it, can you? Neither can they. The Sifras. We don't know what it's made out of, only some of its history. It may not be from this universe, and could well be incomprehensible,//" the pilot explains. The Marker is returned to its spot, then Tasha glances towards the Niss-sphere. "Well, care for a show of force?"
"What is the nature of the force?" the Niss ask.
"To show a sneaky old man I'm not to be triffled with. I don't trust Khattans. He'll understand. Just do what you usually do. I am activating the system now." Going through the hidden options, Tasha brings up the Origin Marker golden-hued interface, then pushes farther. Farther, to Ser Heraphel.
The white plane extends to the infinite horizon, save for Tasha and the hunched over feline figure. "Have we entered the Hall of Souls?" Ser Herafel asks.
"Eventually," Tasha reports, hands folded behind her back. "But right now we're far away from there. We're in Galactic Space. And, we're not alone this time. Niss?"
There is no reply from the Niss.. or any sense of its presence here.
"Why are we in Galactic Space?" Heraphel asks, one ancient eyebrow rising.
Tasha inwardly frowns, but outwardly doesn't let her expression change. She doesn't like to show weakness infront of the elder Khatta. "I do more than chase the Progenitors, you know. I have my own interests. But you'll at least be happy to know that that the Progenitors are involved." She tilts her head, then asks, "Do you know anthing about House Khomen? Lord Khomen? They attempted an invasion of the Primus System, and failed."
"Oh my, a name from history," Ser Heraphel says. "Do you remember what I said about the Khattan Origin Marker?" he asks.
"House Khomen was half of the battle over the Marker? Was he the one attacking, why the defenders left the Marker in a sun?" The young woman inquires.
The old lynx taps his nose. "You remembered. They wanted it.. quite badly. Those who held it decided it would be best to put it permanently out of their reach."
The hybrid nods. "I guess he didn't forget. Or, his ancestor didn't. I'm not sure if it's the same Lord Khomen. But clearly, they know more about all of this than they let on. The invasion failed without my interference, but I did kill one of his agents some time later. I'm not sure what to make of the House, now. I fear they'll notice us -- me -- sooner or later. Do you have any advice? Old contacts? Anything to help me? When I said I was pursuing the Progenitor agenda, I wasn't lying: I have been informed the Sifrans may be waking up, or, turning their attention back to here and now. We both know what that could mean. I have been asked to seek the Progenitors themselves, and ask if they'll help once again," the woman says.
"My my my," the old man says, shaking his head. "So much trouble. I am six millennia dead, child. The last of my Order. I have no contacts, nor House, that might aid you. The House of Khomen has always sought power, and they believed that power required alien knowledge, alien technology. They sought out the oldest ones. The Sifras, the Outsiders.."
"Well, I can see where they're coming from, anyway. But who are the Outsiders? The Harrowers?" The pilot asks, ears perking.
"The Outsiders were the First. The First Life. Some believed they still existed," Heraphel says. "Myths and legends. Or maybe not. Creatures of deep space, predating us clumsy organic beings."
The young woman's eyes widen, despite her attempt to conceal her emotions. "Older than the Sifrans? I was told they were the oldest of the Old Ones, but now there's something older still The universe goes on and on, doesn't it?" She pauses to run a hand back through her hair, wondering if Ser Heraphel percieves her with her Titanian teeth and look, even as she takes a moment to adjust to the knowledge there's things older than what she thought was the most ancient. "The Oldest Ons, then. Well ... That's something, isn't it."
"Some sects worshipped them as the true Progenitors," the old Khatta claims. "The ones who created the Ancients. And some went further, believing the Outsiders to have been created by beings like your Harrowers."
"I could see them as being capable of doing so, but understanding the Harrowers is ... Well, you know, don't you? I've talked to them, touched them, and I still don't know. Maybe I can't know, but I'll try anyway." After shaking her head, Tasha glances back, away from the elderly Khattan. "I should get going, I don't want to use up more of your time than I need to. I'll tell you this though: Preperations are underway to approach the Hall of Souls. We're readying a ship. When I return to Primus, it should be time."
"Be careful," the man cautions. "Do not get involved with Khomen before you make the attempt."
"That's good advice -- I'll listen to that. I'm proud to say, I was thinking similiar." Tasha turns back to the old man, and offers him a lopsided grin. "I guess I'm getting more clever. Like you lot; Sleep well, old man. I'll see you again." And with that she exits.
Once 'awake' again, the Niss apologize to Tasha for being unable to monitor anything. "You were gone into the machine, then reintegrated."
"'Gone in to the machine?'" Tasha's never heard of her linking in quite that way, wondering if the Niss mean something else than what she assumes.
"Your thought processes moved to the machine brain, then returned," the Niss explain.
Tasha blinks at this. She had always assumed the machine had emulated her brain, then edited her memories to make it appears that she was doing what she did, in real time. "Are you saying I'm actually thinking from Mel? Not that Mel emulates my mind and then prints what happened to my memories?"
"It is a similar process. The amount of time you spend in this state is very small, followed by a surge of brain activity related to memory," the Niss reports. "There may be a separate brain system you access outside of the pilot augmentation one."
"I'll ahve to talk about this with Eli. If you're right, that means that for that time, I was the Melchior. I always thought we integrated, that the machine emulated me for higher reaction time and efficency during deeper states, but this is new. It means ... It means that the Melchior really is my body, at least now and then. That I've existed as the Melchior, seperately from my own body. It's like I'm uploading my existence in to the Titan, then returning to 'pilot my body.'" Laying back, Tasha stares at the ceiling as she comes to accept the fact. It's a small detail, a slight shift from what they had assumed -- and yet the difference for her is an intense one. It's the first time she has even been other than Tasha, flesh and blood, the only Vartan-Karnor known to exist. For a brief period, she was the Melchior. Her bond with machine is deeper than even she realized, the woman thinks. It's no longer just her Titan -- it's her other body!
"I think that's enough for now," she breathes, sounding as overwhelmed as she feels. "I learned a lot. Mel, thank you for playing along. I was just trying to ensure our safety. But, I think I need to relax for a while. I'm going to head out now." And though she says it, she doesn't do it immediately. Instead she just lies there, thinking about what it all means.
"Captain to the Bridge," Eli calls out over the intercom, which also wakes Tasha from her sleep. "We're nearing the target system.. and Kaa says the mass readings are odd."
Tasha's cabin is small, enough space for her to wal around her bed. The walls are littered with locker-style alcoves for her clothing, and the ceiling and both port and starboard walls have display-type imbeds. Currently, they're displaying a soothing summer sky.
The young woman rolls over, feeling rested but still somewhat tired from earlier relvelations. She pushes herself up, then wanders to where her clothing is kept and gets dressed.
It's not long before she's on her way to the bridge as well.
Gabriel is there before Tasha, standing next to a pilot station while Eli turns in his chair to stare at the Mass Detector as well. It's showing a bright, hard spot at the center, surrounded by a fuzzy glow and two smaller points, one near the edge of the field of view.
Tasha looks upon the mass driver with distaste, not having forgotten how it ran her ragged the last time she tried to use it. Along with what she learned earlier, it makes her expression look like she ate something that didn't agree with her. "I see it, but I don't know what to make of it," she admits after a few seconds. "Good morning, by the way."
"Good morning," Eli says, sounding chipper. "It's a neutron star, with a binary companion.. but no idea yet on the mass cloud. Kaa wants to surface fully and do a survey of the system before entering the gravity well."
"That sounds good. If it becomes a problem for us, we can dive and withdraw to think of another plan." The young woman makes her way over to the navigation console -- her traditional seat -- and sits herself down. She brings up the relevant displays, waiting for the surfacing to begin helping with the survey. "Any other news?"
"No signals," Gabriel notes. "Bring us to the surface, Kaa," he says, and there's a ratchety reply from the tank below. The displays change once the ship is back in real space. Things grow more detailed over time as the Dark Horse gathers more information.
Eli highlights something on the tactical display. "One orbiting planet.. but it's just outside the Roche limit for the star. That cloud is a gas torus - it was a gas giant, but while its core held together the atmosphere is in orbit. That makes it.. uh.. bigger than that ringworld we saw."
While no expert, Tasha has been trained sufficently to indetify what she's seeing and interact with the data if not understand the details. She sorts through results, head proped upon a hand. "How are you two Phins doing?" She thinks to ask as the scan continues.
"Just fine!" Kaa claims. Moka says, "He needs to rest."
"Once we're done here, we'll dive and hide so we can all get some rest." Tasha eyes the toroid, marveling at its size even as she wonders what it means. Without an answer, she opens the intercom to Dr. Sen's quarters. "Doctor, we're in-system now. Please get ready, and if there's anything we need to know now is the time to tell us. Thanks you." She sets the message to repeat, then asks Eli, "So you're saying it's a gas giant without its gas, and the core ... What's it made of? I havn't looked in to gas giants."
The gas torus becomes more defined as the scan continues. "Rock and metal, generally, like a normal planet," Eli notes. "There's air.. right at the center of the torus, a habitable zone about ten-thousand kilometers wide. Seeing water too. It'll all be in free-fall but.. that's a giant potential biosphere."
"All sky," Gabriel notes. "A tube of sky going all the way around a star."
"A sky, water, and the wonders of space ... A potential gigantic colony. No wonder they wanted to hide this." Tasha leans back, eying the massive cloud. Well, she thinks for a moment, I did complain I haven't been able to fly much since I joind the JEF and headed in to space.
"I hope we get to move around out there. Space ships and Terran building isn't very friendly towards fliers," the hybrid admits seconds later.
A chiming comes from the intercom, and Dr. Sen asks, "I'd like to see where we are."
"Forwarding the data to your quarters, it'll be on the port side wall," Tasha sends to the Doctor's quarters. "I'll leave this line open and connect it to our science station so he can work with you."
"Still not picking up anything outside the torus," Eli notes. "We'll have to go in closer and use active scanning to get a good map of it."
"I don't mind, but it's your decision Gabriel," the owner notes.
"We'll hold here and collect what we can passively first," Gabriel says. "Give Kaa a chance to rest. What's the Maelstrom like here, Kaa?"
"I feel like I should go meet the Doctor in person about now," Tasha notes, looking up. "She is our guest, but she's dangerous, too. What do you think, Gabriel? Kaa, Moka, have you worked with her?"
"Eddies," the Phin reports. "Neutron star very dense, causes currents to be more turbulent. If we go in close to the torus, we won't be able to submerge without risk."
"I worked with her," Moka says. "She had something she was trying to decipher."
"A little too coincidental," Tasha notes of the difficulty in submerging. she then turns her attention to Moka and nods. "She's clearly up to something, but we don't know what. A research project, probably. Maybe we'll find out, soon."
"Hidden, hard to approach without exposure," Kaa remarks. "Same goes for warp or hyperdrive. If you wanted something hard to get to, this is a good place, outside of a close orbit on a black hole."
"I think I'll go show some hospitality, maybe see if I can get answers. I've never worked with a psychic before." Rising, Tasha sets her console to idle, then turns and begins heading out. "Do what you can. Gabriel, I know you'll stear us right. If she beats me up, please remind me that I should have seen it coming."
"Avoid drinking contests and arm wrestling," Gabriel advises.
"Good advice!" Tasha agrees rigth before stepping off the bridge. She heads in to the ship, stopping to check sequencer records to see what the Doctor likes to drink, and a bit of breakfast for both of them. Then, it's off to her quarters.
It doesn't look like the doctor has left her quarters at all. Jonas is out and about however, walking into Medbay from the galley.
"Good morning Jonas," Tasha greets the man as they walk past each other. "Heading in to say hello to Miss Spy. Depending on how things go, I might be seeing you later."
"I'm sure you will," Jonas says. "Unlike me, you will suffer bone and muscle loss with prolonged exposure to freefall. We've apparently found Belter Paradise."
Tasha pauses outside the door, glancing back to the man. "We did. I'll just be glad for a chance to stretch my wings -- I never thought I'd find a sky in the vacuum of space!" Her tail wags, she winks, and then she heads inside the cabin.
Dr. Sen is sitting lotus-style on a cushion while she watches the various data feeds coming from the bridge. "Your ship is very fast," she notes to Tasha without turning her head much.
"I'm a Khattan," Tasha replies with a grin. She walks over and pulls out the spare chair under the desk, then sits down and offers a plate to the woman. "I brought you the drink you seem to like and a few choices to eat. I'll eat what you don't, don't worry." For herself, she made some black tea, sweetened, with milk-like addition. "Enjoying your reading?"
"It is a bit like a fantasy story," the human says, gesturing to the readouts. "A world with no ground. A normal star would have dispersed the gas, but a neutron star doesn't emit enough of a solar wind. Any light and heat come from the secondary star. There might be asteroid islands just floating round in there. Imagine that. Islands in the sky. And rivers too, maybe lakes and oceans."
"It sounds like a wonderful place to live. Personally, I've always missed the lack of sky in spacecraft -- and space for that matter." Scooching over, Tasha places Dr. Sen's tray beside her, then rotates her chair to observe the readouts. She doesn't understand most of the data, but she can pull out a few things. It also shows she's interested, she decides. "We're attempting to approach now. Your friend picked an interesting spot to hide, and not just for 'islands in the sky.' By the way, what is your research project?"
"You mean Herbie?" the woman asks, and nods her head towards the high-tech coffin. "Well, that depends."
"Herbie?" Tasha asks, looking over towards the coffin. "And, on what, Miss?"
"On where I can fully research him," Sen says, and gives a slight smile. "Did you know that nobody checks the veracity of the Galactic Library? They just seem to assume that it's accurate, and unfiltered. But I suppose we wouldn't be here if that were the case."
"It doesn't surprise me Khattans would sell false information. They probably think we should have paid more to verify it, and it's not their fault," Tasha remarks, chuckling afterward and shaking her head. A moment later she says, "But I'll try to remember that. As for this place, I imagine some power or another were hoping to keep it to themselves, for whenevr they felt like using it. Unless they already are?"
"I imagine we'll find out," Sen says, then gives Tasha another little smile. "What makes you think the Khattas created the Library, may I ask? Oh, I know it's the common belief. That they and the Celestials did it.. but can you really see them pooling their knowledge like that?"
"It does seem a little strange, now that you mention it," the younger woman notes between sipping at her tea. Actually sipping, the way Gabriel taught her to do. "But 'sharing' never seemed like a Khattan virtue. It seems, now that I think on it, more likely they repurposed alien technologies and then turned it in to a source of profit, maybe sharing that with the Celestials because they needed their expertise to get the device running. It may be a First One or Old One device. Outsiders seem unlikely."
"If so.. that begs the question: who hid this system?" Sen asks. "The Khattans? The Celestials? Is it something even they don't know about, because they don't check the information in the Library. Maybe the Titanians hid it?" Now she turns to fully face Tasha. "Do they do that? Can they edit the Library?"
"The Titanians are many and mysterious! What they can do, and cannot do, even I don't know for sure. I do know some of them can drink me under a table, though," replies the Titanian-like younger woman. She watches the older's reaction a moment, then says, "Not the answer you were hoping for, I know. Here, I'll show some good will: I don't know. A straight answer. If I did know, though, I couldn't tell you. Another straight answer. And one more: If I did, they kill me."
"And you know I'm telling you the truth," the hybrid then adds, tilting her head down and raising her brows.
"So.. they gave you this ship, I am guessing?" Sen asks. "It isn't Sifran.. my first suspicion. But I'm curious as to what you did for them to earn such a prize? From what I understand, the Dainty Mauler mostly trades in junk and fish.. and the occasional Silent-Ones Archon."
"I didn't realize Sifras used standard spacecraft," the ship owner notes. She then tilts her head, putting a finger to her muzzle and watching the woman watch her as she thinks. At length, she says, "'Kill me,' remember? Now, you may not care what happens to me, and you're trying to get whatever you can from me for Terra, but at this rate I'll have to let you eat alone."
"It isn't that big of a surprise you know," Sen says. "For you to be out here. It's been about the right amount of time. Access to Primus is cyclical. A window of a few centuries, every few thousand years. Hopefully nobody else is remembering that though. It's nice to know the Karnors survived at least."
"Well, that simplifies things." Tasha takes a long sip of her tea, then leans back against the wall and smiles. "Whether you're tricking me or not, it doesn't matter in the long run. Terra will know sooner or later. Hopefully just Terra, but I wouldn't bet on that. Incidentally, here's something for you: House Khomen didn't forget and attempted an invasion, which failed. If knowledge ever becoems public, maybe your government can use that to pressure them. I don't know. I'd prefer our snactuary remain a sanctuary, however, and I am dedicated to protecting it if I can. Though," she glances around, "I may be causing my own problems out here. It's tricky, this secret business."
"We have our sources within Zion," Sen notes. "The Silent-Ones made their accusations, and Khoman suffered some embargoes.. but they always have ways around them. The nature of Galactic politics makes it worse to be caught than to commit the crime."
"Good, I'm glad they had to suffer for it. Hopefully that will keep them out of our affairs for a while. Well, their affairs, anyway." Tasha scratches her nose, then leans in to ask, "What happened to modern Karnor, anyway? They make my feathers itch. I thought they were interesting, until I saw how reduced they are. Galactic politics, wasn't it? It's a sad state."
"The Celestials breed their Clients into killing machines.. but Karnors were seen as a threat," Sen says. "Mostly to the Khattan colonization business. It's understandable.. the Seniors really do not want Terra to have powerful potential soldiers."
"I've seen one of the Celestial Clients: Also a sad result, even if I don't know what they were like I can't help but feel they lost something irreplacable. Call it instinct." Another sip, this one surrounded by a frown. "The Vartans, too. I wonder about that. Drugs, other things. Regular old trickery, and ... Greed, I suppose. It seems like some things are the same, where ever you go." She then perks her ears, leaning in again to ask, "And my Gabriel? Eli? What does Terra think of them, and should we be worried the Galactics will worry about them?"
"I'd keep him out of the public eye as much as possible," Sen suggests. "And your ship. The Galactics are already hunting for Moreau.. who spoke of restoring Karnors to their original bloodline. That frightens them."
After taking a bite of her chocolate chip muffin, the hybrid says, "Well, we'll do our best. And myself, of course. I'll have to be a Titanian a bit longer it seems." Another sip of tea to wash it down, then Tasha says, "I can't really disagree with him. Moreau, I mean. I don't want to take sides -- I'm not Terra like the others and I have my own business -- but it's increasingly hard not to want to do something. Having power means having the guilt, even when you do nothing. Everything becomes your choice."
"Protect the Primus colonies," Sen suggests. "That helps us, indirectly. Eventually the Seniors will get over their superstitions and move against us, the Confederates and the Silent-Ones. It will just require overwhelming force and expense on their part to do it."
Tasha's frown is deep as she gazes in to the murky reflection of her tea. "You really think they'll do it? Conqueror you all? Or annhilate you? And what superstition is that?"
"Well.. it has to do with legend and history," Sen says. "One of the first great Empires of Terra was supposedly founded by twin boys who were raised by wolves. That's us, the Wolflings. Our history is one of war and conquest. We've more experience at it than the rest of the Galactics combined, and that's just on our own planet. The Seniors rely too much on the Library for their tactics. They can't adapt quickly, and that's to our advantage. We've had skirmishes, but in any big fight.. they always backed down when they couldn't figure out what we were up to. We're sneaky, we cheat and trick. They are very risk-averse. Better technology is still more expensive. We could lose a fleet, but if they lose a warship it's more costly to them than it is to us."
"Plus, our Clients are all family," Sen adds with a grin. "All Terrans. Our loyalty is to each other. That doesn't hold for the other Client races."
"And once they realized that if they don't do something, you'll match them -- or exceed them -- they'll swallow their fear of loss and hit you as hard as they can, until they control it all and are 'safe' again?" Tasha's head shakes; It's all so sad. She began her journey looking for wonders, and for every wonder there seems to be a new horror -- and as one increases so does the other. "The Khattans will lose the Vartans eventually, too. I've heard someone say, they'd be inclined to join Terra. And the Sifras ... Everyone keeps trying to murder each other."
"War among your rivals is usually welcome," Sen says, as if quoting. "Just ask the Khattans. They supply all sides, after all. War is profit for them. That's also their weakness of course. Profit. Make it unprofitable and they'll turn their attentions elsewhere."
"Everyone else is on our side or owes us, at least," the human notes with a grin. "The Celestials would never dare attack Terra. It's now the closest thing to a homeworld that they have."
"Well ... I'd prefer large scale war remain unprofittable. The unverse has enough ruins. And they won't like it, when the war comes for ... " Tasha lets her words drift off, almost about to say smething she knows she shouldn't. All the war, death, and overwheling weight of what she knows got the better of her, so she pauses to regain control. She sucks in a breath, aware it's quite obvious, then says, "Well, that's good. Even me, I'm part Terra," she offers, hoping it's distracting enough. "But I bet you knew that."
Sen tilts her head, and asks, "If there was war.. how do you think the Titanians would react?"
Tasha is silent, but there's a weight in her unblinking gaze. And a heaviness to her emotions. She's not angry, the emotion is darker, sadder. There's no sense of being pushed, but the weight of something else she's holding back. Outwardly, all the human gets is a uncomfortable silence.
"They're the wildcard," Sen says. "The universal deterrent. Best if it remains a mystery, eh?"
Tasha's ears simply flatten; She sips her tea quietly and doesn't reply.
"Herbie here is a First One, from the dating we could do to the mummy," Sen says, changing the subject and gesturing to the coffin. "Entombed on Encante for a million years or so. Can't really make him public. Encante would be overrun by Galactics then. So.. need to study him in seclusion, or find a better spot for him to be 'discovered'.."
Tasha's relief is obvious, on all levels of detection. She immediately turns to view the coffin, ears perking. "Aquatic, is he? The ruins on the planet seemed to be very advanced. They had Harrower there, He-Who-Moves. We talked a while -- or whatever length of time D-Space has." Sliding over, the younger woman leans in to take a closer look att he coffin. "I'm an explorer at heart. I helped re-create the Joint Expeditionary Force, to explore the Sinai System. I had my reasons to leave home behind, but I'm still an explorer. Could I ... Take a look ..?"
"It's not safe to open it here, and from the initial examination - it wasn't aquatic," Sen says. "Crashlanded, possibly. Maybe before Encante was in it's current star system. Herbie is humanoid though."
Part of the display screen begins flashing, soon followed by Eli on the intercom saying, "We have a metallic contact. There's possibly a ship inside the central torus."
"An outsider then. Makes sense, as the Encante ruins seemed more like Old One technologies. Not that I'm an expert, but, well ... " Tasha gestures around herself without looking up. "I get around. So, maybe an explorer like us."
About to say more, Tasha pauses at the announcement and looks up. "Speaking of exploring, it looks like we're needed. Come on, Miss Spy, I'll show you to the bridge. Just don't make me regret it some day, okay?"
"Are you kidding?" Sen says, standing up. "This tech is ancient. Now, if you want to show me your engine room.. oh, and call me Yue."
"What engine room?" Tasha stands up, winking, and then gestures towards the door. "It's nice to meet you, Yue. I'm Tasha. Aldara Tasha ... Argentine." She then pats the wall as they walk out, leaving the trays behind. "And my Horse, well ... I am very protective of my Horse."