Spending the night with Gabriel had a grounding effect on both Tasha and Hakeber. For a few hours, the horrors of outer space and politics of deities were set aside for satisfying mortal pursuits. Hakeber woke up looking less haunted, and with a large appetite. It was as if she'd never dealt with the Book or Katha-hem, even though the Ogdru-hem most likely implanted something into her memory.
"Steak and eggs, and a mountain of hash browns, and waffles. Bacon waffles," Hakeber recited as she got dressed, which was a bit of a dance to avoid disturbing the carefully sorted and stacked papers. "Did you guys want anything too?"
For her part, Tasha has remained content to sprawl out against her mate. Even the though of food hasn't dislodged her from her place of comfort, arms around his neck, head buried against his chest, disheveled. "Mmmmrmrum," she mumbles to the question, unable to muster the energy to open her muzzle wide enough to make sense. It's a enough to break her peaceful silence, however, so she hugs Gabriel harder to compensate.
"Ooof," Gabriel reacts as a courtesy. "That does sound tasty.. but I think we only have time for coffee. Not galley coffee either, but bridge coffee. Nora will want to finalize the course plot."
"Nora-whatever-ora," goes Tasha. Gabriel gets a big, noisy kiss to his chest and then Tasha finally begins to rise, despite insistence her sister is 'whatever-ora' in terms of immediate importance. She pushes up and rubs her eyes with the back of her Karnor hand, the strap of her babydoll hanging off the arm and her face lost in a tangle of blonde hair.
Gabriel gets up as well.. and cracks his back.. before sorting himself out a bit and getting dressed.
"Poor babies!" Hakeber says, dressed enough now to be presentable. "After I eat my fill I'll give you both a kiss so you can taste the ghost of my breakfast." And then she's out the door with a wagging tail.
"You can have Liza fix your hair later," Gabriel tells Tasha, and reaches over to tousle her hair further.
Tasha pulls herself to the bathroom mirror to look herself over. In a lingerie top and nothing else, she's the logical result of a planned night of sdeuction and closeness. She even decides she looks, if not exactly trashy, then certainly vixenish. It makes her grin; exactly as planned, if not how she had planned to begin things. She had Hakeber's help, there.
When Gabriel tousels her hair, she giggles. Really giggles. It makes her sound young, and the clothing -- so far from the ulitarian techno-style of her undersuit -- adds to the girlishness of her sensuality. At heart, Aldara Tasha Argentine is still a girl in love.
"Fine, fine," she sing-songs, disconnecting both babydoll straps until the garmet falls to a pool at her feet. There's no hiding what happened with herself this much of a mess, so she decides to bask it instead -- why not? -- and goes to her dufflebag to rummage through it and findboth her undersuit and shipboard uniform.
"Now, Nora's been working on this for awhile now," Gabriel warns. "Without any PersoCom help or MOTHER. So she might be just a little bit on edge."
Tasha pauses, half-dressed, ears perked. "It's not going to help she'll know exactly what we've been doing, Gabriel my big-bad-wolf." She closes her undersuit with unnecessary slowness, making sure he's watching and not helping the situation in the slightest. "Should I warn Remy I'll be visiting him soon?"
"I'm sure he expects you anyway for the prelaunch physical assessment," Gabriel says with a big grin. "But let's not keep her waiting too long, all the same."
"Nooooo, lets not make Nora Argentine angry." Tasha finishes dressing, them cups her hands on her head in the shape of horns. "I hear she can be vengeful." The 'horns' and her ears wiggle, then she meets Gabriel on the way out to duck under his arm and stay there. "To the bridge, sir! Ready to serve, sir! Reporting. For. Duty!"
"I should let you go in first," Gabriel says, one eyebrow raised. "But.. we'll go in together.."
"No-no!" Tasha insists, stepping out from under the man's arm and turning to face him. "I'm the one who asked you to sit around here while I'm off out there, this is the least I can do! Please remember me fondly and don't be with anyone else! Bring shiny things to my grave. And liquor. And bury me with my ship." And then she salutes!
A hoof-turn later, she marches on to the bridge ahead of him.
It's less than a minute before they're on the bridge. Nora is seated in the center chair, extended out into the viewing sphere. A diagram of the system between Abaddon and Arcadia is displayed, with several gravitational manifolds plotted out.. some brighter than others.
"It's about time," Nora grumbles, not turning around.
"And we're sorry we're late!" Tasha walks on to the bridge, looking around and smiling despote looking like a Class 1 Salon Disaster. "And I want to let you know we appreciate all of your hard work, your intelligence, and your resilience in this time of difficulty." The last part stolen from a speech she heard in the Pit. "You're a credit to the JEF and I admire you!" Her hands settle behind her back, the hybrid boucning a little on her hooves.
Nora turns around to look now. "Oh.. Tasha.. you're looking particularly guilty today," she notes. She then gestures to the hologram, saying, "I hate Arcadia. No wait.. I don't hate Arcadia.. it's well behaved. I hate Fortunatis." The Karnor stabs her finger out at the multiple curved paths Bellerophon might follow. "See that mess? That's because the planet between us and Arcadia doesn't follow a predictable orbit! It could literally sneak up on us and put us off course."
"What can I say, I'm a dirty flirt at heart. Very dirty." She winks at her sister, then leisurely makes her way towards the project screen despite not needing to do so due to her superior vision. She's found that if she doesn't move in to normal visual range for a Karnor, occassionally Karnors and other 'baseline' species who have similiar range and expectations will assume she's not paying attention. And while she might not actually be paying attention, today she is, and she'd rather not end up in a sudden headlock. "Hum, the usual frusterating Sifran techno-magic, I see. In the Olympian pantheon, Fortunata is the God of Chaos. I see the world's the same way. How they managed to make a planetary orbit random, though, I have no idea. Can we still make it?"
"Yes, but it might be expensive fuel-wise," Nora says. She manipulates a control, and a more color gradients appear on the paths. "These are the points were we can use inertial control to speed up, slow down or alter to a different trajectory," she explains. "So I can't give a solid ship-flight-time projection. It could be a few days of real time, but longer or shorter for crew time. Fortunatis shouldn't get close enough for its mass to matter, but the speed that it orbits can cause gravitational ripples. I also can't calculate how its orbital shenanigans effect the libration points. If they move accordingly, we're fine, but if they get stretched by frame-dragging effects they can be an issue."
"Assuming no interference, which route is optimal?" Gabriel asks.
Tasha leans in, thinking hard. Orbital mechanics are hardly her strong point. She thinks she could have performed what Nora has in a year, with all the books, a caculator and a headache. "I think I understand all you're saying," she remarks after Gabriel has arrived. "A lot of what I knew went right out of my head after my time in the tube, but I think I get it. Random oribit planets are definitely rare outside a stellar disaster or special event, I remember that. I wish I could be of help, nothing I know mentions getting there."
The route that's highlighted looks.. odd. Arcadia orbits slower than Abaddon, but is also trailing by almost fifty degrees at the moment. That means launching in the wrong direction and orbiting Abaddon several times, spiraling outward. Then it's decelerating to move outwards to the proper solar orbit, and doing more maneuvers to get into orbit around the candy-colored world. "We don't know what the hell the planetary ring is made of either," Nora points out. "We never got to explore it before things fell apart. We've got the Celestial data that Tasha recovered, but it's just photographic. It could all be bands of ionized neon or streamers of paint for all we know. Until we get closer, it's going to be a mystery."
"And we don't even know what the picture was supposed to be. EM? Gravitation? Yue said mandalas have a religious significance, but what physical significance do they create?" The disheveled cadet shrugs. "I really see why my home system is such a problem. Now that I've seen other star systems, it's a crazy disaster of monolithic architecture, and I do knoww e should be grateful it even still works this well. If it's working."
"We'll be taking our own pictures this time, and run with full passive scan," Gabriel says. "No more active scanning of alien artifacts, especially when we don't realize we're scanning them. Will we make our launch window, Nora?"
"Fred says we're good to go, just need to finish fueling and prepping," Nora says, leaning back in the seat a bit. "Not sure about bringing the recruits along. Remy is going to vet them, see who has lingering trauma from the last trip and if they're up for it."
"Good idea. Speaking of which, Hake-bea-- Uh, Scholar Hakeber said it might be a good to stand Mel infront of the main sensory array and get one last scan of him. We can use it for calibrations and make a final check for anything hidden that might surprise us." Tasha leans nabck, turning to look between the two senior officers. "Do you want me to talk to the recurits, give them a pep-talk, anything? Otherwie I'll be spending my prep and transit time preparing my side of things. I need to do an inventory of my kit for planetfall, pull MREs and other things from the supplies."
"Get Mel in place for the scan," Gabriel says. "No point addressing the trainees until Remy is done with them. They're Templars, so probably have had some stress exposure training already, and should be fine."
"Hey I didn't and I'm fine!" Tasha twirls a finger at the side of her head and, crosseyed, makes her way towards the exit hatch. "I'll just go get the giant robot I plugged in to my head randomly after punching my sister now!"
"Hah, like you could land a punch on me!" Nora calls.
"You were on your butt! Which is huge!" Tasha calls back. She pirouettes at the hatch and salutes Gabriel first, then Nora, then back out the way sticking her tongue out at her sister.
Getting to the Titan Bay means passing the Galley, and the odors of Hakeber's breakfast. "How've you been, Shojo?" the Scholar can be heard asking.
Wanting to get her Titan scanned and supplies sorted before being ambushed by some other concern, Tasha decides not to stop but she does slow down and listen. It also gives her a chance to claw her hair in to some semblance of a style lest she endure the knowing grins, coughs and distant cat calls from the hangar crew.
Nobody catches her passing, which means Liza is probably busy cooking the food. The doors to Med Bay are closed as well, so Remy may already be up and evaluating one of the Trainees. Yue must still be in Gabriel's quarters.. hopefully. Otherwise the spy could be anywhere. But nobody is in the dorsal hangar, save for Melchior laying in his support cradle.
Tasha leans back to gaze up in to the lense-filled eyes of her machine, an arm resting against her back. "Time for another physical, Mel. Lets get you outside. Don't worry, mine's next." She sucks in a long breath, not because the Titan intimidates her but rather feeling the weight of what they're ssoon about to do. It's almost time. No, she hasn't felt intimidated by her machine for a long time, now. It's become another part of her, and soon, both of them head out to complete what they started.
But steps still remain, they're not there yet. Safety, as always and especially so in space, comes first.
Tasha sprints in to a run and in short order had climbed aboard, entered, and linked with her machine. In her mind's eye the hangar erupts around her, Titan-to-ship communications coming online. "Cadet Argentine, ready to deploy," she reports.
"Opening the doors," Fred's voice replies. It could be Fred, or PC Fred. Either way, the doors atop Bellerophon's back slide open.
The Titan rises to launch position, but not needing a rapid launch simply waits for the hangar doors to partially close around the cradle which it uses to step on to the surface of the space ship itself. There it begins to walk forward, heading to the edge and droping down in a engine-assisted hop from the upper surface to the wing, then from the wing to the wing-edge and another hop down. It passes closes to those working closest to the ship, its striding pace sending low vibrations through the ground, repleat with the echo of hydraulics, shock absorption equipment and the myriad other sounds of technology that accompany its movements. Soon it stands before the ship, placed as best as Tasha can manage before the main sensory array. "In position. Don't cook me. I'm sorry I said you ass is fat; I meant it's only kind of fat," she reports.
"Be sure to drop any ECM that's active," Nora replies over the link. "Should I comply with that?" Melchior asks Tasha.
"Please do. It won't help much if we block them. Not even to mess with Nora -- she'd probably shoot us with the linear cannon right now." Tasha waits to feel the ECM dropping, like a cloak falling from her shoulders. "ECM off. Ready."
There are plenty of telltales that light up in Tasha's sensorium, but they only cover a few of the scans being used. Lidar mapping and radar, basically. There's no way to tell if quantum-resonance and deep-radar are being used. The lidar is kept on for the duration of the scan though, until it occurs to Tasha that it's there to let her know the scan is still happening. When it winks out a few minutes later, Nora informs her, "Okay, scan complete. Leaving it in the buffer for now, as per new protocol. That I wrote! Will access each scan directly on an isolated subsystem. You're free to snuggle back up inside now. If we do find anything.. uh.. we can't really do anything about it, though."
"Oh." A sobering thought, that. "Well, um, if it triggers anything I'll try to go berserk in a constructive way this time. Heading back in." "ECM back on, Mel. Back we go. "And you know the Balthasar was corrupted by me." "Did I tell you that, Mel? Katha-hem said so, said old Yama did something to me and that was the source of the corruption to the Seraph. It's still hard to believe anything he could hide in me could do that though."
"If it is true that the being calling itself Yama was instrumental in organizing both the Expedition and Magi projects, it is conceivable that it had intimate knowledge of how the neural interface systems worked. After all, it used it's own body to interface with your system, without the use of a connection arm," Melchior reasons.
"It does make a lot of sense, but it doesn't help much to know it's logical. I didn't think the neural system was capable of remaking a Titan, but maybe the Seraph remade itself under 'my' orders using the Sifran crystal array? Like I was just hosting rogue software even while I was fighting against what I was doing to the machine. You know where I'm going with this too; be careful of me. If I start giving strange orders or initiating attacks and don't seem to realize it," Tasha warns. The return to the cradle requires more effort, fighting against gravity as it is, and the young woman must shoo personnel and equippment away from her launch point before rising in to the air. Rather than hop up, she aims for a landing behind the cradle and to skip the intermediaries.
"That is a difficult request to follow," Melchior notes. "I am dependant upon your brain for such evaluation. I do not know what conditions were for Balthasar. He was far off spec by that point, and even you felt he had a pre-existing personality."
Tasha squints, thinking back. The events surrounding Balthasar are difficult for her, both in terms of memory and painful emotionally. "A woman's personality. Jealous, a bit ... vicious? Possessive and a little seductive. But also imperious. Imperious and distant, masculine, but then there was the woman. I felt like they were the same being but also different. I didn't have time to think about it long before the attack happened and I was busy keeping an eye on more important things like the flight system." The Titan is guided in to the cradle, beginning to lower as they talk.
"You make it sound schizophrenic," Melchior remarks as the limbs lock into place. "But that may have been deliberate, if Balthasar was meant to be sacrificed in order to fulfill some sort of formula for molding the mindset of the Bird of Hermes."
"'Moulding' huh. It makes me sound like ... " Tasha almost says a machine; it makes her feel immensely guilty and she knows the AI can finish her sentence even if it couldn't already read her mind. She chews her lip, frowning and leaning back, then decides to just live up to it. "Like a machine. But I guess I am a machine, I was made intentionally for a mission, the same as you. I'm just different in that I'm free. But, maybe not that free, if I'm being shaped? Maybe I'm part of the big alchemical recipe that's supposed to create or form vril?" The machine stops inside the hangar; the doors begin to close.
"Or we may be trying to read too much into things," Melchior concludes. "We will know more if we are successful on Arcadia."
"That's how it always is, isn't it? Well, I have supplies to sort through. I'll see you tomorrow, probably. We'll need to run drills until we arrive -- insertion, departure, combat, random-event. You name it, we'll be busy." Tasha begins to get up, but then pauses. "Our talk did remind me to do something before we arrive, though. I'm going to ask Nora if she knows why I look like I do."
"Is there something unusual in how you look?" Melchior asks.
Tasha raps the knuckles of her Karnor hand on her forehead. "Only Karnor-Vartan in existence."
"Are you certain?" the AI asks. Existence is pretty large, after all.
" ... that I know of! Gods, Mel. You know what I meant," Tasha corrects, rolling her eyes.
"And Lt. Argentine might know why?" the AI asks next.
"Nora made me. Not that Nora, not even the original Nora, but what the original became. The first Sifra ghost Nora, Tisiphone. She made me to look like her hoping some day I'd come to the Fenris and do what she couldn't. Maybe there had been a thousand Nora-lookalikes before me, but I was the one that succeeded. That's what makes me like you; Remy said it's why I sympathize with the Magi and probably why I took failing Balthasar so hard." Tasha rubs her nose with a finger, scrunching her muzzle up. "Nora's still Nora. Besides, the Themis-Skoll looks just like me. Can't be a concidence."
"Statistically, everything is a coincidence," Melchior claims. "A Gryphon is a Titan with wings. A Gryphon meant for a Karnor would look like a Karnor with wings. Red and Gold are common colors for Terran machines that are meant to be impressive or suggest a sense of speed or arousal."
"Well I do suggest both, so I guess everything is okay!" Tasha holds her arms up in stretch of victory, then tilts her head foreward. "Alright enough speculation for today and enough bothering Nora. I'm going to go sort MREs in to ones I like, ones that are okay, and ones I'll probably die before eating now. Disconnect."
There's no hiding from Liza forever. The maid finds Tasha while she sorts through prepackaged meals that came from another part of the galaxy thousands of years ago, and tuts at her. This leads to getting a shower (with water) and being properly groomed. These leaves the hybrid looking acceptable enough to eat with the crew, where she finds that Remy has cleared the trainees and they're all willing to go on another adventure - especially one that lets them survey another planet without having to pay the Kampfengruppe for the privilege of walking there through the Gateway. Even Hakeber is in good spirits, considering she's still sober.
"You need to fill up on the good stuff before we launch," Hakeber reminds Tasha, and pats her own belly.
"That's true, I've become spoiled on food that isn't salted, jerked, or kept from spoiling with cheap liquor. I might even be becoming refined." The statement comes with her reaching over and filling her plate with three seperate burgers, created from port supplies and special event stores -- after all it isn't every day the Bellerophon prepars to launch! The burgers are surrounded by an army of fries, some sort of pickled item that's definitely not a pickle as Tasha knows it, and the leftovers of the wine she brought to share between Gabriel, Hake and herself. "Liza makes the best food. I wonder if I can pack her somehow ... "
"What, into Melchior?" Hakeber says. "Only if you let her do the packing, I imagine. But if you don't come back, who inherits her?"
"I don't know ... " Tasha taps her muzzle with a fry as she peers at those assembled. Tap, tap, muzzle purse. "You could fight over her. Like, a duel or something. Though, I was probably thinking she should help whoever needs it most. And can pay, remember I am paying her. Uhhh, well, I guess it'd be up to Liza to decide. She'd know best who needs what and who to trust. I mean she did pick me, so she's obviously really smart." The fry gets popped in the hybrid's mouth and shew chews, grinning.
"Perhaps she simply likes a challenge," Shojo says without inflection. "In which case Hakeber would be the logical next choice, being the most slovenly."
"Poor Hake-bear," mourns Tasha, until she pauses and her ears go askew. "Wait, I'm not more slovenly than Hake! If anything I'm less. Much less!"
"Liza met you first," Shojo reasons. His perfect poker face makes it difficult to tell if he's making a joke.
"I can hear you all quite clearly," Liza notes from the kitchen area. "Scholar Hakeber could not afford me, however. The logical person to work for next would be Captain Akkers or Lt. Argentine."
Tasha squints a very avian and rather predatorial squint at Shojo, then picks up a fry and throws it at him. "See what happens if I don't come back, who is going to take you on adventures then! I'm helping you ca--" It takes the hybrid a moment to register Liza is speaking due to the softness, but she does pause to listen. She lowers her second piece of ammunition and then nods slowly. "Those are good choices. I have a friend, um, Mariel that my sister and I know. I'd like it if Nora and Mariel were helped by Liza. Gabriel's too neat, Liza would get bored."
"He carries too much stress," the Lapi claims. "He requires massages."
"That's my duty. Hake can take over if I cack it though," Tasha insists, reaching for a burger. "I expect a monument though. Bury me with my ship. No, use the ship as my monu-- No wait I promised it to Katherine. Um, I don't know, be creative and don't listen to Nora."
Of course, without a PersoCom 'backup' Tasha can't be recreated if there's an accident. "Nora needs a lot of help," Liza notes. "She is a 'hot mess' I believe."
Tasha nods with an air of sage understanding. "Don't even get me started. Back when I was just Aldara Tasha and not Argentine, Cadet or what-ever, we used to fight all the time. She's so pent up on being a failure she doesn't realize how amazing she is." And then the girl has a mouth full of nurder to contend with.
"Perhaps we should not dwell on the outcomes of failure," Shojo remarks. Hakeber says, "The outcome is usually getting drunk, in my experience! Although that can become a self-fulfilling cycle, now that I'm sober enough to think about it.."
"Well I plan to succeed. It'll be amazing and you'll all be famous. Unless I can't tell you about it, or aliens eat me." Suddenly the burger in her hands seems somewhat threatening; Tasha eyes it suspiciously for the portents it may hold. "This is going to be a big mission for all of us, at least. You should feel very lucky to be here, all of you."
"Lt. Argentine calls the mission 'Mounting Olympus' and says that it is ironic," Shojo claims.
"Hah! Really?" Hakeber asks.
Tasha groans at the macbre humor of it all. She picks up a fry and begins to twirl it airly as she explains. "It's old Terran mythology. Mount Olypmus is the seat of the gods. Bellerophon rode his winged horse up there because he thought he was good enough to be a god too and the gods went wrong annnnnnd ... " The fry pauses, then drops. "Poor Bellerophon got thrown down; things went pretty badly for ol' Belle after that."
"You have tamed the winged horse," Shojo says, and gestures to the ship around them.. which does have a Pegasus motif on the outside. "You defeated the Chimera that was the Seraph. I do not think you carry the arrogance of the original Bellerophon though."
"Well, Tasha is a mythical beast, after all," Hakeber points out. "So following mythic paths should be normal for her."
"I'll just try and make sure I keep the lesson in mind. We don't even know what the aliens -- are they really aliens? -- will want. So who knows what will be arrogant or not. I'll bow and scrape and beg if I have to, though." The dropped fry gets picked up and eaten, Tasha trying not to think of how metaphorical her dinner might be getting. "Besides Hake's right, I am a chimera. The only one that got close to slaying me was that Titan, and that Titan was me, so ... I guess I fought myself and won? Or lost ... " And then her ears are askew again.
"Melchior helped," Hakeber points out.. which reminds Tasha that she hasn't heard anything about the earlier scans yet.
"So Mel helped me kill me. And Mel is kind of me too. So the three of me fought corrupt me with regular me and not-courrupt-robot-me. But I won, and beat the corrupt me, so maybe that symbolizes ... " Tasha drops down to murmur as she pushes burgers and fries aroudn her plate in a complex arrangement of which her means what in relation to the event. She then frowns. "You know I did order a scan of Mel today."
"You mean with the big see-through-stuff eyes that you used on the Pit?" Hakeber asks.
"Yah, that embarassing thing," Tasha confirms, pointing a fry at Hakeber. "Maybe I should go check up on things, unless Liza and the recruits need my outstanding morale support?" She glances aross the table. "Remember, I'm humble."
"Yes mistress, you are most humble," Liza comments, and bows. "You are a giant of humility."
"If they need a morale boost, I know plenty of bar songs they probably never heard in the Winged Citadel before," Hakeber offers.
"I am a giant giant of humility!" Tasha drops back in her chair and puts an arm around Hakeber, pulling her in to a hug as she reaches around the girl to sip from her drink. "And Hakeber is a ... Short-shorty of songs!"
"Hey, we're nearly the same size," Hakeber claims as she's squashed.
"Tasha's breasts are larger," Shojo notes academically.
"And I have wings! Speaking of wings, you," Tasha waggles her free hand at everyone other than Shojo, " ... all really need to get some. Especially the Karnors. All this walking is killing me. I used to be the best flier. And Hake," she turns and resists the urge to kiss her, " ... you're so light you could probably do very well. And Shojo is right, mine are larger. Very important." And then she lets go. "Well! I'm going to go annoy my sister and check my scans, anything else?"
Hakeber rubs her neck, and glares just slightly at Shojo. "You probably shouldn't call her a hot mess," the scholar advises.
"I can call her whatever I want, she's my sister and I'm used to getting punched." Tasha rises, taking her plate and drink with her. "Don't have too much fun without me -- and if aliens invade, I'll be on the bridge!" And off she goes!
Nora is still there, unsurprisingly, along with Fred as they go through the preflight checklists. She looks up when Tasha arrives, and then stares at the plate in her hand. "Who learned to cook those?" she asks.
"My amazing and wonderful maid-personal-assistant-director Liza," Tasha replies, holding the plate up in triumph. "Can I pick people, or what?" The plate lowers and the hybrid walks over, sitting beside Nora's command chair, perched on the edge of the drop in to the project bay with the plate in her lap. "So Commander Hot Mess, how are we looking?"
Nora snorts at the nickname, while Fred turns away to hide his grin. "Everything is on schedule, weather looks clear.. but there hardly is any weather out here to begin with," Nora relates. "Morning launch is go."
"At least the Sifra keep their space clean. It's more than I can say for a lot of Old Ones," Tasha notes, biting in her her second burger a moment later, After chewing a bit she asks, "Did you ever get a good flight path? Should I get ready for a trip through the center of the candy ball?"
"Hard to prepare for a complete unknown," Nora says. "But once we're in orbit, we'll have the luxury of better information to plan from. We're going with the optimal path, and will.. 'fly by the seat of our pants' as the Captain says. I think he's looking forward to it."
Tasha's muzzle splits in to a grin. "He's a wild adventurer at heart, I know he is. The TerraGens should just give all their exciting Uplifts to me, I'm way better at this." The Cadet then scootches closer to Nora's chair, leaning against it. "But you know you should really meet the recruits more. This is important, but you need to make some friends. I know I make up for it a lot, but still. I can sit here and watch things if you wnast to be social. You too Fred."
Nora frowns a bit. "If everything goes as planned, Mariel will be out of her incubator in a few weeks," the Karnor points out. "If she's viable and stable.. I may be next. Which means I'll be gone, effectively. So.. not sure socializing is best for me right now."
"I'll be around for awhile, and I've already spent more time with them than anyone else," Fred notes with a grin.
"I bet you have, Fred. Remy's going to write a lot about you some day. Just watch." Tasha shakes her head, but she does reach behind her back to try and bump fists with Fred where she thinks Nora can't see. "Nora, Nora ... " Her head shakes as she begins. "You need to socialize. Meet people. That sort of thing. I mena even if you're going ... to ... be ... " And then it hits her, and she chokes.
"I'll play with them when I'm a puppy," Nora says, after Fred's surreptitious fist-bump.
"And speaking of.. I downloaded the scan data to Eli's pad," Nora adds. "He's the only with the time and expertise to really go through it anyway."
"But ... " It comes out a whine. Suddenly, Tasha's no lunger hungry. She stares at her food, blinking with increasing rapidity. "I mean .... gone ... You can't ... just ... "
"You're worried because I'll be cuter and get all the attention, is that it?" Nora asks with a grin. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To have us back as living people.. who can leave the ship at least, have real lives, and all that?"
"Yeaaaahhhh, buut ... " Tasha swallows hard, then puts her plate aside and looks up. Her eyes a too glossy, but the constant blink is holding things back for now. "But, I mean, you and me ... We won't ... You won't ..?"
"I can create a minimal PersoCom for your pad if you like," Nora offers. "It can berate you in my stead. But after this mission, it may be some time before Bellerophon is needed again, and I intend to use that downtime for something practical."
"It won't be the same." Tasha pushes herself up and walks over to Nora's chair, arms on the edge and leaning in towards the double. "What am I going to do? I can't be a big sister, I'm a disaster! And what if I need advice? or someone to look up to?" Looking a little wild in the face, Tasha realizes her hands are shaking after the fact, looking down. Is she really missing Nora as she is, or is it something else? Some aspect of Nora created her ... Is it abandonment? Loss of a sister and the reason she did so much? A creator, whatever she calls Nora now. But it's silly, isn't it? This is what she wanted ... The end result ... But having it stare her in the face one day isn't something she had been prepared for, she realizes too late.
"You'll fall into the role," Nora claims. "You don't need me, Tasha. You're going god-hunting and you don't think you can handle a couple of little sisters? Think of every big sister ever. Were they ready for it? Of course not! That's the whole secret of being an adult: you just have to fake being ready for things, and fly by the seat of your pants. Because you can't plan for everything, so.. just be ready to jump when you need to. And I'm getting tired of just existing inside this boat and in virtual space. I want to go out and see and touch stuff.. I'm an explorer too you know."
"Plus, as a cub, I can get away with chasing your rabbit," Nora adds with a wink. "God, I miss being able to just run and chase things."
"But ... you made me ... you can't ... just ... " It's a hopeless and selfish arguement, Tasha knows, doomed to failure even within herself. The desire to hold on to Nora as-is for her own sake, because Nora has always been the key to her goals and a part of her being. The person she always tried to impress, the one she wanted desperately to like her. Half of why she brought the JEF back from the grade and most of why she crossed two worlds and a moon. To lose her hurts. It hurts more because she knows she has to let go; she can't fight her way out of this one, not if she wants Nora to be happy.
Knowing she's lost, Tasha sinks to her knees and lays her ears back, whining pathetically.
Fred reaches down and scratches Tasha behind her ears. "Hey, it won't be for very long. Then you'll get a sarcastic kid that follows you along everywhere. You'll probably be out in Galactic space for the duration, so you'll be fine," he assures.
"If you want to impress me, Tasha, get up and hug me and promise you'll spoil me rotten," Nora says. "Because I will remember that promise."
"/Maybe,/" Tasha mumbles in response to the idea of 'everything being fine.' It doesn't /feel/ fine. She just got Nora to like her! They've barely even /talked,/ there's so many things she doesn't know./ They could have talked more or ... or ... So instead she reaches over the chair and grabs Nora, hugging on to her so tightly it might seem like she fears Nora will vanish in a puff of smoke at any minute -- not exactly wrong.
"Or you could start worrying about what to do with the Projector after we're all in bodies again, except for the extra Eli, Remy and Gabe," Fred points out.
"They should be made into spares too," Nora says. "Once they're embodied, the whole 'memory merge' thing should stop and they'll grow into different people over time."
Tasha picks up her burger. She isn't sure why, but she's determined to eat it now. Every. Damn. Piece. "Spares? Spares, huh ... Spare Gabriels?" It's a weird enough thought to turn her away from thinking about Nora, but she still pulls her wing close when she feels Nora might be trying to escape. "Can we really resurrect the dead..?"
"According to that Spirit Mage that poked at us.. we aren't actually dead," Fred says. "So.. I don't know. We can transfer whatever we are into bodies. Even Fallen-Star was transferred, if a bit more.. naturally. But she didn't have a PersoCom. So the real question is.. do we want to have a form for JEF personnel to record whether they want to have ghost projections created if they die, but we can recover the body?"
"Too soon to worry about that," Nora claims. "After we're all in bodies again, who's to say the projector will even work anymore? Or we can let someone else deal with the thing."
"It only works if we can make a body, though." Tasha bites half the burger, gnashing it down like a stand in for her problems, more easily devoured. If only it were so easy. Biting something helps greatly, too. She'd bite Nora, but then she'd probably start crying. She can barely manage not to cry now. "I mean, what about ... Naga? Or Humans? Vartans? Me?"
"Well, for you it'd have to be a choice: Karnor or Vartan," Nora says. "I don't think we could make one of each. The system just doesn't seem to work that way."
Tasha's muzzle wirnkles at the choice. There was a time she'd have rushed, payed for such a service. Given everything she had. But no longer; she's gained acceptance. But if she were to fall, she may have to lose it just as hard as she gained it. "I don't think I could live without wings," she admits. "But I'm okay, right? I'm not dying?" Suddenly she isn't so sure, everything seems a lot less stable than it had been a few minutes ago. There's that cancer ... "Maybe you can just stick me in Mel. I know that works. I'll remote a hybrid robot." It's meant as an attempt at humor, but she just can't back it, making it sound morose instead. "Um."
"Well, there were protocols for resurrections.. and I think age was a factor too," Fred says, looking thoughtful. "Easier for a young person to handle it than for an old one."
"It's easier to justify it for us," Nora says, "because we're here and functioning, instead of just being dead. But.. eh, it's not something to worry about right now." She waves her pad (a real one, since the projector isn't that far away). "We have to finish this checklist. Prioritize! So.. go bug Eli, Tasha."
Tasha finds herself about to say that she'd try it no matter what, that she'd want to live. In that insistence is Nora's own desire and for the first time since she heard the news the idea of losing the adult Nora doesn't seem so bad. Nora would want to live, too. Nora doesn't give up. By holding her back, Tasha knows she'd be pushing her sister and creator towards dissolution. "I-I guess so," she agrees, turning to blance at Nora over her burger. She pauses, then puts the burger down. "I, um ... I support you." It's almost too quiet to hear, strange from the loudest member of the crew. "I support you. Don't give up."
The hybrid woman then sucks in a deep, deep breath and rises suddenly, almost clocking Fred along the way, mug hugged to her chest and plate in hand. "I need to go," she declares right before whipping around and walking, then running out.
The next half an hour is spent crying in her quarters. tasha knew she wouldn't be able to hold it in forever, barely able to manage it aroudn Nora. She hadn't anticipated the sheer strength of her emotions involving Nora's loss. She thought she had prepared for it; had planned for it and all was well. facing it was entirely different. She'd no longer have her 'big sister' to fall back on, to tease, to try and cheer up. To approve of her, and all she had wrought. She had never lost a family member before; she had udnerestimated her Vartan side's sense of loss.
But the loss isn't forever and there is a great and majestic bright side -- a new future for Nora. She held on to that belief, that all might be well, that letting go would prove that she was a good sister and was a success. A successful creation, a successful family member. All she could manage to be, for Nora. Not perfect -- gods no -- but it was as much as she could do. So what, if she cried? Or was selfish? She hopes Nora will see how much she means to Tasha, that in the end she loved her and was distraught at the thought of losing her. Isn't that good?
When she's cried her last tear and gotten it all out she feels better. Wetter, but also better. And so she goes about cleaning herself up, hoping Fred and Nora will forgive her moment of weakness. At least, she decides, it was weakness out of love. She decides she must really have a Vartan heart; she can't quite picture the Karnors breaking down so easily. Shojo, Frane, Kem and most of all the Rapatia would have understood.
Cleaned up and feeling okay if not great, she makes her way down to the lab -- if a bit later than planned.
The first thing Tasha notices upon entering the Bio Lab on the lower levels is that Mariel seems to be thrashing in her tube. Dr. Zerachiel is next to it, but doesn't seem concerned at all.
But Tasha is concerned. Tasha is up next to the tube with sudden rapidity. "Um, Doctor ..?" She starts in question, looking between him and teh tube with brows raised, expression worried. "Is she ..?"
"Oh, Tasha," Eli says. Up close, what appeared to be thrashing about is.. more controlled. Hands clench and unclench, and every limb and joint is going through some repetitive motions. Even the tail. The pups mouth opens and closes, and her eyes are also open. But it doesn't seem like she's actually awake. "Disturbing, isn't it? But the muscles have to be worked, and the eyes need to be opened and focusing on things. All critical to development of the brain and muscles, since we're bypassing infancy."
"It is disturbing," Tasha admits in fascinated horror. There are many things that can disturb a Vartan, and suffering children -- actually suffering or otherwise -- is one of most intense. If she hadn't already cried her eyes out and become somewhat emotionally deflated, she might have reacted with greater intensity. As it is she can only watch, eventually reaching out and putting a hand on the glass. "Is it really true she'll be out in only a few weeks? I thought it was going to be a year or more."
"Well, it all depends," Eli says, tapping one of the readouts. "We can monitor the production of brain chemicals, so when we see activity drop back to a normal rate we'll know that her memories are finished implanting. At that point she can be decanted whenever her body is ready. If we want to go to full term and have her come at around ten years old, we can. But if she's ready sooner, she can come out.. younger. I think things are proceeding faster than normal, but there isn't a lot of history of this process being used on Karnors - it was mainly for humans."
At the moment, Mariel looks to be around five years old. Her colors are correct, but the patterning isn't exactly what it was on the original - but that's down to gestational environment more than genetics.
"Why just for humans? And you mean something like this? You didn't have Sifran crystal technologies helping, right? I remember most of them are inactive away from here." Tasha leans forward until her nose is just an inch from the tube, watching even if she'd rather not, feeling a sense of solidarity and support from not turning away. If she's supposed to be the 'big sister' she feels now if a good time to start practicing.
"Because it was made for humans," Eli notes. "The uh.. opportunities for trying it with Karnors were few. After all, it required a PersoCom, and only flight crews tended to have those."
Tasha nods slowly. "Because they were expensive? I've known you all for months now, but it feels like there's still so much about where and when you came from I don't know." The young woman leans even closer, second hand on the glass. "I remember Mariel telling me about her family, though. I told her she was a success. That she didn't need to listen to them."
"Expensive? Well.. more that the test subject needed to have a PersoCom and be dead," Eli notes. "There were a lot of rules about how the system could be used, and it isn't like you could ask for volunteers. The main objective, after all, is to prevent people from dying in the first place."
"I see. It sounds complicated." Tasha's slow approach culminates with her nose on the glass, eyes wide. "A lot about your world sounded complicated. I wish we had time, so I could learn it all. There was so much I wanted to talk to Mariel about, I never expected I'd be in the tube so long. I feel like I let her down, that I wasn't around enough to be her friend like I should have been. And now maybe I'm doing it again."
"You'll have time after she's reborn," Eli says, with a slight grin. "These systems were created to ensure that missions could go on. None of the crew is really expendable - we all have special training and expertise that can't be duplicated.. without literally duplicating it. For setting up a permanent presence, this is a necessity. I'm sure Remy and I will be needing replacements ourselves. At least a new generation that can have the time to teach what they know to others, while the originals keep busy putting that knowledge to use."
"Or maybe that should be the other way around," Eli notes, looking thoughtful.
"Oh." Tasha manages to grin a little too; the thought of ten year old Remiels and Elis teaching adults in a large classroom too much for her not to react to. "It's selfish, but I like the though of all of you always being around. I don't want to lose anyone. Not Mariel, not Nora, not Gabriel, not you or anyone else."
"I'm sure Remiel would like to 'retire' to a teaching position - more time to raise a family that way," Eli notes. He looks lost in thought for a moment, as if trying to grasp a thought.. then he says, "Oh, you probably came for the scans.."
"But Tasha latches on to the idea of Remiel and a family. "I want Remiel and Fu-- Miss Neesa to take care of Mariel. They have the same colors, so Mariel won't feel awkward, and both Remiel and Neesa are good at helping people who are recovering or dealing with things. They're easy to like and easy going. Mariel needs peace and understanding."
"And little brothers and sisters?" Eli asks, as he retrieves his data pad.
"As long as they're nice to her," Tasha insists. "Or else I'll gorlw at them." It's a lie; Tasha knows she couldn't growl at Remiel's kids, but it feels right to make a show of it. "What about you, Eli? Maybe little spaceships?" The tube reflects her somewhat wider grin.
"Well, the Karnor race seems to have prospered here without my ancient, unrefined DNA so far," Eli notes. "But.. I might still meet a nice Karnor scientist who is smarter than me and wants a cave-wolf of her own."
"Although from what I experienced out in the Big Black, those Karnors definitely want cave-wolves," Eli says.
Tasha snorts, but denial of Harmonia is enough to make her turn away from the vat and eye the man. "You're going to hurt Harmonia's feelings, you know that? If you don't like her, please at least tell her, when we're back and everything has calmed down. She's been asking about you." She squints a little more for the memory of all of modern Karnordom chasing her Gabriel. Not acceptable at all.
"Oh, Harmonia is a wonderful partner," Eli claims. "I.. ah.. not sure if things can go beyond that. She isn't exactly well socialized, and until she has a broader experience of people that actually talk to her, it would feel a bit like taking advantage on my part."
At this Tasha rolls her eyes. "I was socialized and I was with someone called Blackwings. Pirate Captain Blackwings. She used to sk--" The young woman pauses, glnaces back at Mariel, then quickly corrects herself with, " ... beat up people. A. Lot. Harmonia could do a lot worse, believe me I know. And don't think I was nice-nice either. I know. Besides," and here she waggles a finger, " ... if you're not careful maybe she'll chose Raehab."
"I've not met the man, is he honorable?" Eli asks.
The question ellicits a snort. "He's an ex hot shot pilot, so he's kind of like me except older, more letcherous, and I think he's a criminal mastermind. We worked with him when we gifted the Kamp our special rock. He's my drinking buddy and he is trustworthy when it comes to me and to his deals. Used to be with Rapatia. But he's not, um ... " She waggles a hand up and down at Eli. "Like you. Reserved. Civilized? I don't know how to say it. he keeps trying to get me in bed. He already got Harmonia."
Eli raises his brows at this revelation. "Got her? How? Her avatar looks like you.. without skin and made of clockwork."
"WEll suddenly her avatar looked like a golden Vartan woman who made me look boring and flat in comparison. I kind of wanted her; she probably has a whole database on how to interact with Vartans. And, and! She did it without my asking -- all because she's the reason Raehab is half-bug. She shot his ship down with a mazer a long time ago, ruined his life. Kind of like how K-hem attacked us. I think she felt guilty, or she was acting on my behalf. But I also think she wanted to. She doesn't entirely need my permission, it seems." Her brows arch. "So be careful, and think quickly. Decide if you want her or not, and tell her. Don't let her wonder, or you might lose her."
"That is quite a bit to process," Eli admits. "But.. at least she didn't make it to look exactly like you, either." He shakes his head as if to clear it, and then realizes he has the pad in his hands. A few swipes brings up a composite three-dimensional reproduction of Melchior based on all of the scan information.
"I'm still a bit stunned about it myself. I don't think I gave the order, I wouldn't, I'd have asked her first. I don't do that." Tasha taps her nose, but then tilts her head down to look at the pad. "Somehow, she made that decision. She'd never tried to with me or anyone else that I know. Maybe because I like Raehab .., um, anyway." The woman's muzzle flicks in a twitch. "Well, how about this datapad! Find anything?" She peers closer at the display, trying to make sense of it.
"I found.. something missing," Eli replies, a bit cryptically. He uses a finger to peel away layer after layer of the Titan, which is very densely packed, with no wasted space. There area few darker shadows though - patches of material dense enough to cast a significant neutrino shadow. But nothing opaque. The dense areas in the core are stripped away, showing the cockpit and the computer core below it. And below the computer brain is a blank space, shaped like a pentagon, and about the right size for an Origin Marker. "No way to tell if there's something in that slot," Eli notes. "Markers are basically invisible to our scans."
Tasha stares at the blank space, long and hard, summerizing with. " ... huh." There's several seconds more of staring, then she pulls out her datapad and begins flipping through her own stores of data. When she reaches what she's looking for she begins to scrolls, and scrols, and scroll until her thumb jerks to a stop and her eyes snap wide.
"Nooooo," the young woman hisses in disbelief. "It can't be ... can it? It can! That liar! That liar."