It was tricky to walk, but still safer than flying. It wasn't unusual for a section of catwalk-road to suddenly be lifted up and swung over to some other location by a crane, only to be replaced with a curve or intersection. Even the many Vartans choose to stay grounded, possibly to avoid being accidentally steam-boiled by a randomly venting pressure release. But with the goal always easily in sight, Tasha managed to make it this far.
Everything vibrates as railcars carrying a massive rocket engine rumble past. It's big enough for the Dark Horse to ride on top of - if the top wasn't already covered in Titanians working on it.. or disassembling it. It isn't clear what is happening in all the chaos and noise.
Tasha renews her feeling that she should have convinced Bumper -- or Captain Eyeshine -- to teach her Hammersong. The incessant noise means something she knows, but without the knowledge of the percussion-based language it's only so much cacophony to her. At least her eyes aren't lost even if her ears are -- The wreckage appears to be at least somewhat familiar in its construction. The young woman can spot a great deal of familiar equipment, some of which looks new -- or at least less ancient -- and other pieces that appear to her to have been here since the ship crashed. She's even dubious about the wreckage name itself, and can't help but think the name might be a Terran-made tease based on a hazy memory that she's sure is Nora's.
At the very least, it's one of the most obvious and straightforward of her goals lately. There it is, big as a mountain, and in its heart is what she's here for. Plain as day, obvious as can be. It's a fact she appreciates, as she appreciates being surrounded by mechanisim, making the noisy trip quite bearable.
Although she is looking quite a bit too nice for the locale. She couldn't bring herself to deny Liza her morning attention and so has her hair done, her fur is clean and shiny, her hair brushed and conditioned. Her clothes are still her old travel clothes, and her halitool is as patchwork as ever, but everything is cleaned or polished and almost as nice as when it were new.
How long it all lasts in the rather humid and chilly atmosphere is yet to be seen, though. "Hey!" a Vartan shouts at Tasha once she's well and truly within the metal cavern. The man comes over and.. looms. He's big, even for a Vartan. "No kids!" he declares, before getting a good look at Tasha.
"I'm not a kid, you old bird," Tasha replies with a lopsided grin, reaching over to poke him a bit with her free taloned hand. "I'm here on business."
"Hah, biz-nez?" the big bird asks, and leans down to get more in Tasha's face. He bobs his head back and forth a lot, as if trying to decide which eye he should be glaring into. "What biz-nez?" he asks.
Tasha stands her ground; Having big, tough-acting Vartans in her face is practically nostalgia for her by now. Her childhood and young adulthood were filled with nothing but. "I'm a researcher here to investigate the Titanic. If you don't believe me, find whoever you think knows about this old wreck, then bring them to me. And once they hear what I have to say, they can find who really knows about this metal-mountain and I can talk to them." She plants her free hand on her hip, shifting her weight that way.
"Huh?" the Vartan asks. "Re-search? Oh.. you a data miner?" he asks next, looking Tasha up and down again.
"Close enough," Tasha replies, head cocking to the side. "Do I look like I'm just here to wander around? Do you see my halitool?" She waggles the weapon towards the other Vartan like a witch doctor might wave their mojo-stick. "Have you ever seen one of these? Look at the metal, the tools. I'm here for business." The halitool is reshouldered, then the young woman cocks her head the other way. "If you're going to help, help. If not, scoot out of my way."
The Vartan doesn't seem quite convinced. Titanians never did seem all that big on the notion of authority, so in general are hard to intimidate. "Where you gotta be?" he asks instead.
And while Tasha sees she's not making any progress on intimidating, she knows she can't allow ehrself to appear intimidated either. A stalemate is better than a retreat for her, at least here and now. It lets her keep talking. "Hammer-metal attunement and analysis specialist. Main engine, power, hyperdrive, hyperspace blocks."
"They mining near Hammer now?" is what the Vartan seems to get from this. "Hokay then. Watch you head. Nice hair."
"Yah." Tasha teach reaches her taloned hand up, brushing her hand gently across her hair and back. "It is, isn't it?" She grins lopsidedly all over again, then pats the man's arm as she walks past and deeper in to the structure. "Thanks for both. See you around."
The big Vartan heads back off into a steam cloud, leaving Tasha to her own devices. Of course, given the nearly organic layout of Titanian ships.. and the shear size of the Titanic.. there's no clear direction where the FTL drive could be.. assuming there's just one and not dozens scattered throughout the mass.
With nothing left but to make her way and figure things out from there, Tasha starts walking. She may not know where she's going, and she may not find it by wandering, but she's sure she'll have a much better sense of the layout of the vessel the longer she has to navigate it.
To aid in this effort she pulls out her notepad and takes notes now and then, creating a map to go with her rough overview of the vessel she gaind by circling around it prior to atempting entry. Using her external map and the new internal one, she expects she'll find her way sooner or later -- That or someone who does know their way and isn't going to give her a hard time!
This works until Tasha realizes she's gone deeper into the wreck than the outside suggests. So it really is embedded into the mountain and not just laying up against it. The hammer sounds have begun to fade slightly, replaced with the sounds of steam-powered machinery.
Well, at least I have a good map and some rations to eat. If I have to, I can sleep down here, Tasha thinks as she makes her way. She may be cleaned up, shiny, and found a new love in luxury but she hasn't abandoned hard living either. If she must, she decides, she'll make this work somehow.
The map gets updated, external and internal. There's now a dotted, vague outline of the ship beyond a quick drawing of a mountain. The map is updated as well, now on many pages with numerous numbers and letters in several languages showing connections and details. She keeps going.
The noises get louder, and before long Tasha spots a group working with picks, axes and steam-hammers to break through rock. And while there's no way regular stone could pierce through the hull.. this is a volcano. So it's possible that lava flooded and hardened into places.
Tasha comes to a halt and grimaces. If what she's looking for isd buried under countless tons of hardened rock, she won't be finding it soon -- If ever. Still, she did recall that the man knew about the Hammer and if they knew about it, she reasons, it must be accessable or at least its whereabouts known. The Knights Templar Captain seemed to think it was acquirable, and thus reachable, so she has high hopes what she's looking for may still be accessible. And so, she decides to ask for directions.
"HEY," she yells at the nearest miner, having to do so over the noise. "WHERE HAMMER AREA, NEED GET TO!"
"WHAT?" the Titanian says. This time, a really wolfy sort of Titanian. He turns off the steam hammer for a moment, making things slightly less noisy. Then he takes out his earplugs. "What?" he repeats.
And so Tasha repeats herself, even including walking motions with her fingers to indicate she needs to go places and a hammer motion when she describes the Hammer area she's looking for. She then concludes with, "NEED GET TO. HAMMER AREA. KIND OF LOST. Uh, NEW. DATA MINER."
"Hammer area?" the man asks in confusion, and looks around. For a Titanian, every area is a hammer area. "We data mining here," he points out.
"No no, not hammer, Hammer. Kinetically variable metal. Kind of silver. Important. That area. Uh." Tasha pauss to consider just what sort of data mining the Titanians are doing by hitting rocks; Then, it comes to her in a flash. "Hitting the walls makes resonance, using walls to get data on buried structure?"
"Huh? No," the Titanian replies, and points to the hardened basalt. "Stuff on other side, and inside. Good stuff. De-signs. Plans. Stuff. Mine it out."
He also seems to light up in realization. "Oh, you want Hammer? Heart of Titanic?"
To this, Tasha bobs her head. "Yah, that. Where should I go?" She asks, pulling out her map and showing it to the Titanian. "Went this way, from hub here ... Entered subterrainian section ... Then turned this way ... And here." She points straight down, indicating where they are. "So, where to?" And she looks up.
The man scratches the side of his head, loosing quite a bit of gravel. "Hmmm.. go up, then over towards center.. then down a bit.. then cross Bridge of Doom here. Watch out for monsters in ceiling. When head start hurting, go counter-clockwise around purple thing. Stop, listen for deep hammer. That song of the Heart." He pounds on his chest with a fist. "Feel it here. Follow that. Don't try make sense of what it sings. It nonsense."
"I think I know what you mean." And Tasha does, though she's somewhat concerned as to just how she's going to feel the Heart as she gets closer to it -- And she wonders if it'll feel her in turn. The last time she tried resonance testing with Hammer-material, she learned a whole new feeling. Not an emotion, or a new concept, but a whole new feeling for a equally new sense. Her brain is still struggling to catagorize and make sense of it.
But that won't keep her from doing what she came here to do. "Hokay. Towards center ... Doom Bridge ... Monsters ... Purple-thing ... Listen for Hammer. Follow. I got it." She then looks up from her notes and flashes a smile. "Thank you, you've been a big help!"
"Next time, bring ear-plugs too," the Titanian advises, then puts his back in and fires up the steam-hammer to attack the wall of rock.
Tasha decides that's very good advice. After leaving the mining chamber she backtracks a bit and then begins following the notes she copied down: The miner's directions verbatim. Eventually she has an idea and, after stopping, pulls out one of her wax candles and pries a two chunks off to stick in her ears before continuing in blessed -- if not silence -- than a less charmed 'not as noisy.'
The earplugs change the environment a bit. Now instead of hearing things, Tasha is able to feel them better. Not just through the floor, but through the air - the sort of changes in pressure most flyers are sensitive to. And then she sees the bridge. It's a narrow walkway suspended between two massive walls. It's very hot here, since there appears to be a river of molten rock running through the chamber fifty feet or so below. There's also motion up in the darker recesses above.
Not one to take something called 'The Bridge of Doom' for granted, Tasha edges closer to the bridge structure. Tilting and cocking her head to peek around in all directions, she advances slowly and carefully, taking her time even before she steps on to the bridge proper. Lava and monsters are unlikely to be reasoned with, she knows -- And she's traveled enough to know that rarely they can be!
The bridge is hot, unsurprisingly, but it's only about twenty feet across to the far side. The trick would be to spend as little time touching it as possible.. while still guarding against whatever might be up in the ceiling. Something that likes heat, apparently.
A first Tasha considers soaring across; With this plan, she'd get a running start and use the intense thermal updrafts produced by the lava to glide the length of the bridge, then she could cut and drop for a sprint the rest of the way. The main concern, as she sees it, is that she'd be placing herself somewhat closer to whatever is lurking above. It's still a good plan she decids, fast and with minimal contact with the bridge, but she considers her other options first. Having the creature drop on her would put her face-first against the metal, after all.
Plan two consists of a flat out sprint. The main concerns the young woman sees are contact with the bridge and interception by the creature above her. If it dropped infront of her, she could only retreat as attempting to fight it on the bridge would result in a painful fight at best. It does have the advantage of stability and quick breaking, as well as distance from the creature.
The third plan is involves talking. She doubts whatever it is above her is sentient, but it's worth a try. It may even provoke it, which means she could fight in the relative safety of the corridor and not have to deal with the creature on the bridge.
In the end Tasha opts for plan three, as it has the least risk and can be easily replaced without loss. "HEY!" She goes, peeking out from her side of the bridge. "YOU! YAH YOU! CREATURE! I SEE YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
There a response.. of sorts.. from up above. A tendril of.. slime or mucous.. drizzles down onto the bridge where it sizzles and gives off a horrible stench. The strand breaks, and the remainder goes back up into the darkness while the rest boils away on the bridge.
Tasha interprets the answer as 'I'm not in a mood to talk but I am in a mood to eat.' She wishes guns worked on Sinai, as she'd have a quick answer to her problem. After pulling our her breathing mask and deciding it doesn't help the smell much, Tasha considers her options again. A new plan comes to her: She's on a ship, so, it must have thermal plating. Backtracking, she goes to search for some.
Having found what she thinks will work, she begins by tossing one sheet on to the bridge infront of her and considers that she doesn't need tocover the whole bridge, but does need enough walkway to sprint. She recalls how long it took the tendril to fall, deciding that if she can sprint close to that location then leap in to the air, she can accelerate even further, pushing past the 'danger zone' in one large burst before the monster can stick or drop on her. It still needs time to attack or fall, and so she hopes to be faster by giving herself a leg up.
More plates are laid down, even as she eyes the darkness above. When she's gone as far as she dares, she backtracks in to the hall she entered from and starts securing her things for flight -- and what she suspects will be a dramatic and painful roll of a landing. Even her halitool gets slung over, replaced with her belt knife as she doubts she can cut a tendril with such an large blade. With everything ready, she ducks down and rushes forward!
Everything seems to be working out, right until it's time to pull in for a landing! Something hits Tasha's tail, nearly throwing off her landing.. but she makes it through the hatchway at the end of the bridge at least.
In what amounts to a stumble-slide across the deck, ending with Tasha in a pile. I knew this was going to hurt. I should have just held one of the sheets above my head. Knowing hindsight is 20-20 from hard experience -- yet again -- Tasha rolls over and then takes a moment to inspect her tail.
There's glop on it. From the smell and an unfortunate first-hand examination.. it wasn't drool. Wrong end of the monster.
It might also explain the presence of a water barrel and some soap just a few feet further down the passage.
"Eeeegh," goes the young woman, who busies herself with cleaning her tail -- and then tossing the sodden, soaked cloth she uses for cleaning in to the lava. Once done, she turns around and continues onward head shaking as she goes.
The vibrations get stronger, edging towards the subsonic. It does start to give Tasha a headache. And the corridor opens onto a large spherical chamber with a big purple.. thing.. in the center. It is every possible shade of purple, but it isn't clear if it's solid, some sort of liquid or a gas. Looking at it for too long makes her eyes itch.
Wondering where in the universe the crew of the Titanic got what she's looking at, not to mention from who, and most importantly: What it does, Tasha proceeds to follow the directions given her even as she also wonders why they're necessary. Even if she's confounded, she's not about to go against the directions. Her experience with Titanians in general has taught her that sometimes she must simply do and leave understanding for a safe later after do is done.
Moving around the thing feels like walking through water, but with each counter-clockwise step the deep subsonic beat gets stronger. And Tasha starts hearing things. Like the whispers in the K'hu'an tunnels, these don't seem to be actual sounds.. since with earplugs she shouldn't be able to hear them. It's a bit like tiny insects crawling around inside her head.
Suspecting psionics, Tasha does what she was told and tries her best to ignore the sounds as she progresses. She doesn't, however, stop considering what might be causing it as the source may be a concern in the near future, and she'd like to be ready for it. Psionics maybe, but, hmm, an out of tune Hammer? But would a mistuned Hammer create noise, even in people without something that resonates with Hammer materials? Is the Hammer part of another machine that is actually causing the problem? There are several power cores that could endure this long, and probably mroe than the ones I know. It could be almost anything given Titanians, too ... I guess I'll just have to see. Once the beat is strong enough, the young woman turns and begins to follow it.
There are several corridors that branch off from The Purple Thing Chamber, and one seems to resonate the most. Tasha takes it, and things start to get odder. Her weight goes up and down at random, and things look like they're twisting when they're clearly straight. She finds herself on a platform, overlooking.. a machine. It looks like clockwork, but none of the parts seem to be touching. 'Gears' and 'rotors' spin in space, and something like a long cog made of different gears stacked together but off-center turns in the center of it all. Most of the pieces have the look of hammer-metal, but other elements of the warp core assembly look like altogether different (and unrecognizable) materials. There are slender tines that reach into it all, and get 'strummed' by the gears (again, without touching them) like a giant music box.
The one thing that does look familiar is a number on the bulkhead, the Titanian symbol for 7.
Tasha braces herself against the railing as she peers down at the heart of the Titanic. While she wasn't sure what to expect, she can't help but feel she still didn't expect what she's looking at no less than if she had a guess. The peculiar but beautiful warp core reminds her a great deal of Harmonia, but she's positive that the similiarities begin and end at the clockwork style. The more she stares at the device, the more she gets that same feeling she had when she and Gabriel were trying to figure out the Dark Horse -- One of near hopeless uncertainty.
Still, uncertainty and confusion are her constant companions and she has greater mysteries that haven't lead her to give up on it all. Sitting herself down, she lets her legs hang off in to the gear-strewn abyss and plops her head on the lower rail, staring at the machine. Seven. Warp core one of seven? There are other passageways, so, there may be other machines like this one somewhere within this section of the ship. Or if not nearby, then elsewhere in similiar sections. Hrrm. But how does it work? The rotating structures are obviously causing a warping effect, so, maybe the interpla between effects allows fine control of space and time, gravity, or other, extra-dimensional exotic factors. The tuning forks might be for readings, or power, or help conduct what they're doing elsewhere. She continues to stare. Now that she's come all this way, she's content to look at the machine, and think for a while.
Watching it becomes an almost dreamlike experience. Random memories pop up, and sometimes she can see things from her childhood within the mechanism, sitting on a gear-form only to vanish when it rotates out of view behind something else.
Tasha really wishes she knew how the machine worked, but suspects the knowledge would open her mind to Harrower-level revelations that would be even harder to work out. That doesn't keep her from trying to figure it out, of course. Many theories run through her head. The visualized memories lend her to wonder if the warp between the gears is aware on some level, sentient, or possibly even reflecting and recreating her mind as a brief interior-plane reality. She knows that the mass detector works by thought, and that thought can influence or shape materials and elements from outside her universe. And so, she decides a test is in order.
Clearing her mind, Tasha thinks of one thing and one thing only -- or at least tries her best to do so. That thing is: A ptera. She focuses her mind towards the warp core, to see if it responds and confirm her suspicion.
There is something shadowy in there, and moving. Focusing harder actually makes it blurry though! Still, it's most likely a ptera gliding about between some of the gears, if only a shadowy one.
"So it's true," Tasha murmurs, leaning forward and rsting her arms on the rails. The experiment proves her suspicion, however ill-defined it is, and so she tries something else. Clearing her head again, she empties her thoughts and leans back in to her relaxed pose. Closing her eyes, she attempts to meditate.
Nothing appears to her, but.. she feels a tug. It's like an air vortex, only mental instead of physical.
This causes Tasha to lean forward, even if there's no physical pull the vertigo inducesd the movement. She opens a single eye, her Varatn one, brows furrowed. What is it doing? Is it trying to communicate? Attempting to establish control? Pulling me in to the rift? If she's going to be pulling pieces of out this machine -- or one like it -- she decides she really wants to understand how they work more rather than risk disaster through ignorance. She isn't sure her tests won't risk the same, btut erring on the side of testing and caution strikes her as superior to erring on the side of wrecklessness.
Easing back again, Tasha tries one more thing before attempting to interact with the vortice: She tries to see if her Harrower-blood can effect it. Of course, she has little idea how to go about such a thing, only the sensation the Hammer induced in her to go off, but she tries anyway. Grasping that sensation in her mind, she attempts to see if she can interact with the warp core somehow.
This causes the pull to increase. The engine only seems to do things one-way. It's almost too much to pull back from, until a sharp pain in her left ear cancels out the suction.
"Ow," goes Tasha, who rubs at her ear as she peers at the engine, frowning. She's sure she's making progress, but isn't sure at all if she should let the suction do what it's intending to do. And so she stars at the core, still rubbing her ear and shifting her head to her free hand.
There's something actually clipped to her ear. "Why you not ground yourself?" a gruff voice asks.
"Uhhhhh," goes Tasha, who leeeans back to peer up at the speaker. "I was ... testing things ..?" Uh oh.
A true Titanian is looking down at her. He's got a wire clipped to his ear, which runs over a receptacle in the wall.. next to another wire that runs to Tasha's ear. "Testing? Trying to forget something, or forget everything?"
"Is that what the vortex does..?" Tasha drops her head, but only long enough that she can turn around. She pulls her seated self around without getting up, turning to face the Titanian. "I was actually trying to figure the warp core out," she admits, ears skewing slightly. "I'm not familiar with its design."
And then Tasha remembers a story told to her in passing. An old story, one told to her by another Titanians. "Does this core ... Does it traverse mental space..?"
"It suck out your soul if not careful," the Titanian says. He's actually wearing something approaching a uniform, and has a belt with dozens of strange tools dangling from it. "Smooth out space.. smooth out part of you that part of space."
"That's both more understandable and more horrifying," Tasha admits, leaning back against the railing so that she can look up without giving herself a cramp. "But it does explain how this ship managed to enter the Primus System."
"Who are you?" the big wolf asks.
"My name is Aldera Tasha Argentine. I've come here from Abaddon to investigate the wreckage of this vessel and, in addition, attempt to acquire a piece of Hammer-metal for myself. I need it, for the future," theyoung woman answers honestly, thinking that there's no use concealing her identity and that the man infront of her may know she she needs to know. "I apologize for coming in here, but there didn't seem to be an office, or any central authority to talk to. I figured once I got close enough to the Heart, someone who understood it -- or at least valued it enought to watch it and be close to it -- would notice. Then I could talk."
"What your Titanian name?" the man asks next.
"Rustpuppy," Tasha replies.
"Fitting," the Titanian notes. "I am Lore. This chamber very dangerous, most people know to leave when minds go fuzzy. What lead you here?"
Tasha makes a bit of a face at mention her name is fitting, but answers none-the-less. "I came for this. I know that every Titanian ship uses Hammer-metal, that it can be used for many purposes and can warp space and time as well as rapidly increase its energy through movement. But, most importantly to me, I know it can be used to communicate with certain beings. As this ship is a wreck, this seemed like the best place to find some in a way that wouldn't cripple and active vessel. Furthermore, leaving such dangerous materials where an unknowing population could acquire them is dangerous. I thought that between my need and those reasons, I could find what I'm looking for and help make things safer in the Titanian way." She then gives a little shrug. "It's not the best plan, but I work with what I have."
"Who tell you about this place then? What give you idea? Who you need communicate with?" Lore asks.
"I've traveled through space on a functional Titanian vessel and am allied with the crew of the Dainty Mauler, who probably won't be happy with me being here. But, maybe they'll understand?" The young woman gives another shrug, this one a bit more helpless. "I was taught about Hammer materials; The rest I learned from experience and observation. My ship is made of Hammer-material. I need to communicate with creatures of the Maelstrom -- like the one in my ship -- the white water between us and D-Space where the Ogdoad and their servants live. I need to communicate with them, too, I have already spoken to a few. There is also the Nephilim, the Progenitors, the First Ones and the Old Ones. The material may also have mechanical uses and may help me interact with the Harrower-blood in me."
"Hammer metal talk to other hammer metal," Lore says. "That it. No Harrower 'blood'.. they not matter. You meet them, resonance in your gravity maybe. Change your mass-identity, way you mind work. Not blood." He then points to the perpetual-motion construct floating in the chamber. "What you see when you look at that?"
"The Harrower called it blood. It's hard when we don't understand each other and keep trying to use metaphors," Tasha admits as she scootches back around, staring at the warp core all over again. "I see the past," she notes. "My childhood. If I focus, I see shadows of what I want to see. When I close my eyes and meditate, it tugs at me. When I use my Harrower-sense, it pulls harder."
"That complicated description," Lore notes. "I look, I see simpler thing. I see a god. That what it is. Always been. Not made by Titanians. Found."
"A god?" Tasha leans forward, muzzle pursing. She watches the device for a moment, then nods slowly. "A machine god. I know about Titanians and gods. But it's here, so it must be relatively safe. I see the number 'seven;' Are there six more?"
"There a dozen more," Lore says. "Lots of gods on Titanic. All different. All with special rules."
"Isn't that always how it is?" Tasha glances backm then asks, "You said you found it? Not made by Titanians? Then it's probably at least from the Age of the Progenitors, if not older."
"Very old, yeah," Lore says. "All hammer metal come from same source, probably. This the Hammer Seed God. It maybe why hammers talk to each other. You come here past Anchor Spin God. It keep time going one way for all of ship, I think."
"It's also very pretty," Tasha admits, not quite sure why she felt the urge to note it other than that it's true. "So," she returns her gaze to the Hammer Seed God, head tilting. "Maybe the cause? Like a central hub? And if the Anchor Spin God keeps time flowing one way, then is there something else here that is disrutping it?" She leans back, peering up in to the Titanians's face now. "This ship ... It's special, isn't it? Even for a Titanian ship?"
"Oldest ship," Lore claims. "Maybe first. Maybe forged by Vulcan. Only one could make it here."
"I thought so. Vulcan taught the Titanians how to use the Hammer-metal, and the Hammer Seed God is here." Tasha rotates slightly, head tilting as she focuses more on the man behind her. "Is Vulcan here?"
"No, not here," Lore says, watching the Seed God instead of Tasha. "He not travel with Titanians."
"'Like a god, only doing as much as is needed and no more,'" Tasha recites, turning to follow the man's gaze and stare out in to the Hammer Seed God. "What are the other gods like?"
"Make you stomach wobbly, mostly," Lore says. "Gods of movement. Some still hidden.. find them eventually. And the battle hammers. Found a few of those."
"Battle hammers?" Tasha inquires, still watching the old god. She can't help but think she could sit and watch it all day. Maybe longer. It's soothing in a way she can't full articulate, even to herself.
"Mmmm," Lore goes. "Like... ah.. you know artillery?"
"Orbital, self-propelled, hand held ..?" Tasha inquires, lifting her hand to make a gun symbol with her fingers. "Shoot big bomb, big boom? Yah?"
"Think big bullet or shell, then," Lore says. "Hammer-tipped. Meant for breaking warp bubble of snake-ships. Could break lots of things. Think Boomers use something like hammer metal inside."
"Oh, those." Tasha scratches at her nose, recalling when the Dainty Mauler fired upon the Celestial fleet using the Terran hyperspace node. "I saw something similiar using Terran transit nodes and Celestial Client ships. Do you still need them?"
"Brought them for some reason," Lore says. "Hammer tips are small though. Sub-critical-mass for resonance.. no talk to other hammers. We no hand out weapons though. Still some Boomers left, I hear."
"It's a good policy," Tasha agrees regarding teh passing out of weapons. "I know the Sifras, or at least their AI, are against our being here and are actively hostile. Maybe that's why you needed them. Maybe the Progenitors were a problem? But that doesn't seem as likely. Can I have one? Just the tip?"
"Not for me to give," Lore says. "Holy Relics. May be more, may not. May need them. You got a ship made of hammer metal you say. What good little piece do you?"
"Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I have to talk to gods, meet things, walk along way. I'm trying to find the right tool; This seemed like the best choice." Wondering if the goald of the trip was all for naught, Tasha suddenly finds her enegy reserves leaving her. Unceremoniously she shifts back, then leays back on the platform staring at the ceiling and somewhere beyond. "Juts fumbling around in the dark. At least the dark answered, this time."
"You do all those things already, it sounds like," Lore says. "Not all gods talk. Not all gods think. They do what they do, and that's all they do. They are limited things, compared to us."
"Maybe so. I just keep trying to find a better way. Isn't that what tools are all about?" Tasha asks, flicking her gaze over towards the Titanian man.
"Find your way, not better way," Lore advises. "Understand tools you make. But you can use any tool, if you know what it for. Tools are there to help you do what you need to do. If it falls short, then improve it. If it works.. then it works. What you need to do is the goal. Lots of tools can be used, or just one if it the right one. Does it have to be best tool? Or just one that works?"
"I guess in this case I'm the tool that is good enough, that works. If I understand what you're saying then I'm trying to find a better way but I already have a way and that maybe I'm wasting time trying to find 'better' when 'good enough' will do. When 'good enough' is actually better." Tasha stretches, feeling the need to, then slides her hands under her head as she resumes staring up in to the darkness. "Maybe I'm just scared. Maybe they scare me. All of them. And all of it. But stopping scares me too. So, I try to be stronger. Better tools, more knowledge, more effort and questions. All to stay alive, and maybe make progress. But, maybe I'm just chasing my fear and looking for a tool to smash it."
Lore taps Tasha on the head. "Here is good tool. Can always be improved. It only one that like that," he says. "Here a question then: you shown two tables, both identical. One made by hand, one carved by machine. Which one is better?"
"The one with food on it." Tasha's brows go up and she smiles a little. Afterward she sits up, pushing her hair from her head and turning to lay back against the railing and plop her head down on her knee, pulling them in towards her chest. "Without knowing how well they're made or anything else, the one made by hand has the effort behind it. But one made by a machine took effort to make that machine, and to program it. But still I'd think the hand made one is better, because it's maker is closer to it somehow. It doesn't make sense, but I don't think the answer is supposed to. I feel bad for the machine, too, thinking it's work is less meaningful because it doesn't count as much. But it might not care, and so it's me thinking it is what it isn't."
"Hah, clever answer to trick question," Lore says with a grin. "Tables identical, so doesn't matter, so long as you only need one table. Or two, since that other one there as well. If you need a hundred, machine one is better. But effort to make that machine only makes sense if you need a hundred tables, and lots longer to make than just one table. All you need for one is wood, hammer, saw, chisel, brain and muscle."
"And you still need to make that one table first, to know what the machine has to do to make one," he adds.
"I see. So it's a mechanical and resource need question, and I got sentimental over two tables." Tasha cocks her head to the side, shifting it on her knee and grinning a little. "Leave it to me to find the sentimental answer. But, I understand. You're saying go with the way to make tables that's most efficent. I'm not being efficent by chasing after tools I don't need and don't understand, because I forgot what my goal was because I'm scared."
"Scared is good, makes you pay more attention, notice details," Lore says. "Never be afraid to be scared. Fight harder, run faster, strongest you'll ever be when you are scared."
"I must be invincible." Tasha sticks her tongue out, then rolls her head to the side and offers, "Sorry for sneaking in to your warp core. I feel a little silly now, but I guess I found something, didn't I?"
"You learn not to stick head into a warp core or hyperspace vortex, I hope," Lore says.
"I don't know," Tasha mumrurs, looking back in to the center of the anomaly. "I still sort of want to. Just to see what happens. I know it's bad, but a part of me ... Wants to." She then returns her gaze to the man, giving a little shrug. "But sticking my nose in to things I probably shouldn't is ... I guess it's just how I am. I do know now to resist that particular urge, though."
"You already do it before then," Lore says. "Exposed to higher dimensions, eh? Talking to gods will do that. It alter you."
Tasha nods her head to this. "I've spoken to Harrowers, both trapped ones and ones that are still composed of their higher dimensions and can return to D-Space. So, I'm altered now? Not that I'm surprised."
"It change the shape of your soul," Lore says. Not much of an explanation, really. "I show you out, hokay? Not want you go wrong way around Anchor."
"I guess I wouldn't be lucky enough to get my time back, would I? I could use an extra week for a vacation if so." Tasha pushes herself up, lifting her halitool off the floor before nodding.
As they begin out, Tasha asks, "You're not going to explain the soul part, are you?"
"Nope," Lore says. "But I show you how to get out without facing poop-monster. So.. there's that."
"I am so glad I have a maid now," Tasha remarks to the open air as they walk back past the god and in to the ship.