Tasha's face feels slightly lopsided after her salon treatment. She'd gotten used to the feathers, and now has to get used to having just fur again, which probably means retraining her left ear movement as well. She can almost feel the tiny light beads attached to some of her hairs, and has to resist the urge to play with their remote control whenever passing a reflective surface.
Walking next to her is Katherine, who is more used to fancy hair and fur treatments. Instead of a metallic look (which she can get for free from Mr. I) she's gone with a coating of lenticular nano-particles that make her hair color shift depending on the light, giving her normal brown locks an ever-changing rainbow sheen.
Liza has taken the lead, referring to a dynamic map on her tablet. "The clothing store isn't far," the doe notes. "I've already gotten a notice that the items I ordered for myself, Mr. Lightfoot and Scholar Hakeber are ready for pickup."
"Thank you Liza." It's still mildly amazing to Tasha that she can, in fact, not only look good but even respectable and classy. Conversely, it came as little surprise she could look like a Titanian, but these days she can no longer get much out of close association with the Titanian forces and so has begun the slow acclimization to Galactic fashion and culture. This has come with benefits, like an amazing new look, but also some sacrifices as her appearance takes mroe work and required the removal of her fake fangs (actual Titanian teeth), something that still causes her to lick over her teeth for the absence. "How are we doing on time?"
"We don't have anything scheduled," Liza says. "I wanted to keep things open since you're still waiting to for the Silent-Ones to send you a time for watching their pretend battle."
"I understand." Sacrifices have also come in the form of deception, propriety, and etiquette. While the Titanians were fairly open, cared little for propriety and even less about etiquette, Galactic society certainly does. Thus, Tasha has found a need to sound more formal, even a bit like an AI to fit with her artificial person persona, as well needing to consider her words and deceptions much more carefully. It feels considerably more restrictive, but she's found that's the price of society and order -- and not just on the level of words and appearance. "Well, I'm nervous, but I never did get a lot of time to look around the station."
"Is there more to it than the bazaar?" Liza asks.
"There are embassies," Katherine notes. "And a few larger business offices."
The hybrid spreads her hands, copying the Khattan gesture she saw earlier, one of expansiveness of product. "There's also the Belter sections, areas dedicated to selling larger machinery, probably automated areas that handle manufacture, growing of food, that sort of thing annnd ... What else? Housing, entertainment, and more specialized services and meeting places like the Seed Lounge. I've only seen a small part of the station personally, however."
The storefront they approach has several 'hard light' clothing models in front, which change outfits and body types every few seconds. They model everything from jumpsuits to spacesuits to fashion wear. The fashion wear also seems to sport crystallized photon (aka 'hard-light') jewelry and accessories. "This is it," Liza says, and pauses to stare at the changing displays.
Tasha walks up behind her assistant, placing her hands on her shoulders and leaning in to look even though she could see the displays from half the concourse away. "It's modern society wonderful?" She asks of no one in partcular, refering of course to Galactic modern society and the sheer difference between the backwards, backwater technological stasis of Sinai -- however beautiful and satured in Sifran technological magic -- and the everyday miracles of Galactic space. "Is this what you imagined, when I asked you to become my assistant?"
"So.. this isn't created by illusion magic?" Liza asks quietly, and pokes one of the mannequins, causing it to ripple like a liquid.
"Not that different," Katie says, looking at her own datapad. "They trick particles of light into behaving like matter. Doesn't the ship do something like that to generate the interior?"
"It's all technology Liza," Tasha explains by mimicking the professorly air of Remiel and Eli. "Even magic. The difference is in how well the concepts are understood and what sort of control every civilization or individual can exert over them! The mages only toy with a technology they don't understand, one that eclipses even what Galactics can produce. Something like this is beyond Planet A., but they could figure it out eventually. Probably. Maybe after thousands of years? It's all about knowing the rules of reality and how to use them -- or if you're advanced enough how to change them."
Then Tasha nods ot Katie. "Something like that. It's not actual matter, but it's a good enough of a facsimilie to appear so at our macro level and be solid."
"We shouldn't loiter and gawk too much like tourists," Miss Necessity notes quietly. "Even if this is a mixing place for homeworlders and.. uh.. colonial rubes.."
"I agree." Tasha uses her hands to steer Liza away from the display and towards the door. "If anyone asks, I was condescending to appear to enjoy trivialities for my new Terran associates. You know how primitive you can be!" The last is said cheerily, the young woman wagging her tail as she moves people.
Katie rolls her eyes, and reminds Tasha, "This is supposed to be your first time outside of your box too, remember."
"Yet I am advanced and surrounded by robots. My best friend is an AI!" Tasha continues to wag, trying very hard to supress her grin. Aldara does not grin much; Aldara is practiced and a big robotic, unused to people and places. "I'm expensive. Be sure not to mar my fur, Liza, or it's coming out of your pay."
The inside of the store is fairly sparse. There are circular platforms like those projecting the displays outside, but at the moment they aren't doing anything. A sharply dressed Khattan with an archaic measuring tape draped across his shoulders bows when they enter though. "Welcome to Clothing Makes The Sapient, I am Ossif, your tailor. How may I help you lovely and exotic ladies?"
"I have a network order to pick up," Liza notes, and displays the invoice on her screen to the lynxoid.
"Ah, yes! I have it here," Ossif says, and snaps his fingers. Part of the back wall opens and a wardrobe rack rolls out, with plastic-covered garments hanging on it.
"After you see to my assistant, I'll let my new Terran associates to go first. They've never been to Caltrop, you see," Tasha remarks in the banal, expectant voice she's been honing for her newest disguise. Aldara should be used to technological wonders and being tended to, though not necessarily much more beyond Titan dueling and invented House duties. A specialized being, here to expand. "It's very exciting for them."
The Lapi holds out a credit stick, and Ossif holds it in left palm while making finger gestures with his right hand, as if manipulating a control surface that only he can see. With a smile, he then hands the stick back. "Would you like to have them delivered?" he asks.
"No, thank you," Liza says. Having things delivered to the ship was on the list of 'avoid if at all possible' activities they'd decided on earlier. "I can carry them."
Tasha nods to this, it's all very expected. After all, as a walking anacronisim it shouldn't surprise anyone that her assistant would be given to such affectation either.
"What sort of non-civilian styles do you offer?" Katherine asks once the transaction is over, and Ossif directs her to stand on one of the display platforms. His fingers again dance in mid air, and a duplicate of Katie shows up on the next platform, wearing an unadorned gray tunic-over-pants style uniform. "This is the base Karnor model," Ossif explains. "All of the color, trim, decorations and style modifications are made to order, of course."
Tasha steps aside to watch, feigning mild interest while actually being very much interested. A expensive mezzode like herself wouldn't be surprised by such things, after all. Normally she might help Liza with the clothing as well, but that too isn't something a valuable hybrid like herself would do normally. It's different when she's alone, or trying to impress others or making efforts towards inter-species relations, but as with Katherine and her attendands servants are apparently supposed to be exempt. Another sacrifice, even if it isn't much of one. Standing about looking bland makes Tasha ansty.
Miss Necessity asks if she can have a manual interface, and Ossif hands her a small sheet of glass. Using this, she and Katie quickly cycle through many options, until they have an asymmetrical skirt on the tunic, along with a sticky-belt and a high collar. The pants get built-in boots, and a metallic-black finish. The tunic is split, with under-folding right half in the same black, but the left side that folds over towards the right hip in silvery white. The belt and hems are gold, the hems being braided in a semi-military style. A final touch is a black chess knight emblem over the heart. "What do you think?" Katie asks Tasha as the model rotates on the other platform.
"It's certainly very functional," Tasha remarks of the uniform, finding it to be a struggle to both approve of something while also finding it common and bland, and then also seeming not to notice she's reacting to it in such a way. Being a Titanian was so much easier. "If that's what your aiming for, and I believe it is. I don't exactly have any experience in these things, as I told you, I'd have something like this taken care of for me. But, but, I'm supposed to be learning so let me think. Moment."
Head tilting, Tasha makes a show of regarding the unform with more interest, looking it up and down. "Now, fromt what you've told me, I would say that it fits very well for the most part. The members are Terran, after all, aren't they? And it's very Terrangens. I'm not sure I like the symbology over the heart, perhaps on the upper arm? You could use each arm, one for general symbology and one for personal or professional. Medals and other things go over the heart. That's what I remember from my lessons. Over the heart. And on the collar, for rank and other insignia. It's historical. If names are being used, those can go over the heart or under or over the upper arm iconage."
As Tasha speaks, Miss Necessity makes alterations. The knight is shifted to the upper left sleeve.. and wings are added, in a laurel-leaf style pattern to bracket the chess symbol. Gold studs and bars flash in and out on the collar as potential rank emblems. The tunic also cycles through a few different colors replacing the white, for potential service divisions - white for command, green for medical and so on.
"I like the use of color and the clean, easy recognizable rank symbols. If your goal is function, but with a degree of style, I should think identifiables should be obvious without being obtrusive." While the affectation comes from every wealthy, pampered, and prestigious individual Tasha has ever met, the vocabularly is purely Nora's. Nora's vocabulary was and is considerable, and Tasha has long since realized the Karnor never used it to its full extent quite possibly for the same reasons she doesn't. After all, language, like cunning, affectation, style demeanor all effect how people see you. Nora prefered to be low key, but with presence, while Tasha herself has changed her behavior to fit need, to experiement, but also she's become a little afraid of seeming too educated -- or uncomfortably, too intelligent. Even to herself. "That is to say, I like the changes."
"Once you have registered the design, I can have it produced in any number or size with standard body type modifications available," Ossif says.
Katie hmmms. "I am tempted to add caps," she notes. "You can do a lot of image control with a good cap. People respond to headwear."
"Historically, Terragens bridge officers favored a hat with a brim. Headwear for other departments, and when officers and ... Enlisted? Enlisted personnel were divided during different eras, that should be considered as well. Among the Vartan Clans, rank can be identified by other means, such as weaponry," Tasha taps the hilt of her sword, " ... and that is a possibility. Armor, space suits, and so on, those may have different designs or imagery for rank." It's all things the young woman remember from Gabriel's talks, from historical data, and from old records.
Miss Necessity searches a bit, but manages to bring up caps, berets, scarves, overcoats and the familiar style naval hats Tasha is familiar with from airships. Even Eyeshine has a captain's hat he wears on special occasions. Along with a high-collared 'sea' coat, Gabriel in particular would look classically captainish with one of the hats. Or a bit piratey. The coats make everyone look bigger, including Katie's model. The scarves can add extra flashes of color, and also look very professional when folded and tucked into the tunic.
And the brims can be pulled down to obscure features. After getting Liza onto a platform, it turns out that Lapis can wear the standard style crew caps well enough, which doubles as a way to hide their ears. And turning the brim in different directions does seem to work for defining attitude, from 'on the job' to 'casual' to 'who is buying the next round?'
"The scarves are nice. That particular hat reminds me of several entertainments, however." Openly surpporting anything resembling piracy is something Tasha decides she can't afford, especially given how Ilia made the connection between her and the Titanians with little more than some emotions and stray thoughts. Being openly associated with Titanians would sink her chances to walk openly in her natural -- as natural as it can be -- form, remanding her to more complex disguises, concealment, and the underworld in general. Thus, she frowns. "And the station sees enough of that as it is. But, I agree about hats in general."
The human woman is still manipulating the slate she was given, but nothing is showing up on the model. "There are a lot of options and accessories.." Necessity says, and turns the display towards Tasha. It's displaying a 'comms kit' that includes an earbud, some sort of thin collar and what looks like a pressurized canister. "Audio, video and sub-vocal," she tells Tasha.
"How traditional," Tasha observes, nodding slowly. In addition to being an older -- and thus much more easily understood -- model, it's simplicty would allow for easier repair. The Dark Horse may be one of the most advanced ships active in Galactic space, but it has neither infinite resources not ifinite space, and it tends to travel to where complex devices may fail. "It fits with the general style, I agree."
Necessity adds the kit, along with another 'standard' package of reactive impact mesh, diamond power thread and heat exchange membranes. Despite looking simple, each uniform would run over a thousand credits. The comms kits are 300 each by themselves, and most of that is for the two-way optic eye-spray.
Tasha nods with slow head approval. "This seems to be what you were looking for." She then makes an effort to pause, cock her head in apparent thought, then she nods again. "And there is that offer to permit me to tour with you. I believe my House will approve of it, they have been eager to improve relations ever since the fiasco between Khomen and the Silent-Ones, and Terrag openness is well known. Yet, I won't be a member of the crew nor strictly a passenger and my priciples will be providing funding. I'll need something suitable."
Katie grins, and gestures for Tasha to take Liza's place on the other platform.
Tasha approaches the platform, stepping up and tilting her head tilting her head slightly in a bored affectation. After all, she's supposed to be used to being told to stand still and be stylized. "I am ready," she states, sounding prepared but slightly commanding.
Katie takes the control slate from Necessity, and gets a devilish grin. After a minute of fiddling, the models of both Tasha and herself are sporting tight black jumpsuits with plunging necklines that flow into high collars. Gold edging actually glows, outlining belts and flared, split wrist and boot cuffs. They aren't all that different from Katie's motorcycle outfit. There aren't any rank insignia, but the winged-knight icon is on the shoulders in glowing gold. A side-skirt-sash connects to either the right or left side to accommodate a holster or sword sheath, and a matching scarf goes around the neck (conveniently covering any throat-mike collar). A capless visor with flip-down chrome eyecovers crowns them off, while two different styles of boot fit the Karnor and Vartan feet, both of them having obvious metal toe caps.
There's a limit to how much self-control Tasha can exert, and with this new uniform Tasha finds herself more than a little beyond it. Her ears flick at first, then flatten and her eyes look a bit wide. It's not that she doesn't like that outfit, she does, but it's so very different from the other ones and after spending days acting proper and professional it's more than a little jarring to switch back to acknowledging her racier side. Besides, if she turns it down Katie will be upset -- and also not wearing it. Gabriel will also not get to see her wear it. And it's very shiny.
"Um, it's ... very ... Very," is about all she can managed.
"Dangerous?" Katie offers. "You're a duelist. You should look as sleek and dangerous and inspiring as your Titan, shouldn't you? You don't need armor for that."
"It looks very confident, certainly," Liza comments.
"I ... should," Tasha agrees at length. Clearly she and her Titan are not the only things that are dangerous.
"May I have a try?" Liza asks, before Katie is emboldened to try something even more 'confident' on Tasha.
Tasha opens her mouth, but decides against it. She's not about to dismiss Katherine, that would be dangerous. Instead she tries to look very stoic, as Gabriel might.
Katie saves the designs before handing over the slate. Liza takes her time looking through things, before displaying her notion of the owner of a starship. First is the collarless coat. A bit of padding flares the shoulders out a bit wider - almost masculinely so. The sleeves are loose and only elbow length, while the coat itself reaches to Tasha's knees. It remains open, and probably couldn't close in front. It's white with black edging, and the opening is reminiscent of a keyhole, round around the neck and flaring more at the bottom. The Dark Horse icon is on each upper arm. Beneath this is a contrasting loose gold blouse, with a tucked-in black scarf. Other than a metallic pattern it's fairly plain. There's a broad fabric belt, also black, above a rather normal looking pair of loose gray pants and soft black booties. Two light-crystal earrings are the only extra adornment for the head, but a few simple glowing rings are worn on the Vartan talons, including some sort of ornate gold finger-armor over
the index talon. The coat and pants are very business-like, while the blouse and jewelry soften things to be more feminine. There's nothing covering her forearms though, which are exposed to express a bit of physical strength. "I think this will command respect and attention without worrying about drool, and would be suitable for contract or other negotiations," the Lapi offers.
For someone from Sinai, the outfit most closely resembles what a Mage might wear. Mage Latania could certainly pull it off.
While Tasha may know history, she accepts she doesn't know fashion. She can dress herself, she can look reasonably good, and she certainly knows how to be seductive in a girl-next-door slash barmaid sort of way but as for true fashion and professional couture, she has no idea. Her life is simply too hectic and too travel laden for her to really learn it, and thus she accepts she must defer to more learned minds. "It is that," she says with mild approval, the most approval she thinks Aldara could manage in a dress session. Yet, she doesn't want to sink Katherine's design, she already shot down her various new toys and entertainments, so she hedges between ship, man, and woman by offering, "But I'll give Katherine's idea a try too. For other occassions."
"There will always be venues where one will work better than the other," Liza agrees. "Versatility is important."
"It is," Tasha agrees, inclining her head. So, too, is diplomacy.
"I do have some general purpose clothing on file," Liza notes, and gestures to the clothing rack with her first batch. "We can always get more like that as needed."
After stepping down Tasha gestures assent to Liza. "There will always be other opportunities to expand the wardrobe, and Katherine and her fellows have their means. Does this conclude our shopping trip, then?"
Ossif accepts the slate from Liza, and says, "I have moved the designs to the account Miss Liza created earlier. I can begin fabrication on the unique outfits immediately, and can start the uniforms once you have send me all of the final details. The comm kits I will need to get from my supplier, but he carries a large stock of such items, along with weapons and other tools."
"Did you order weaponry, Liza?" Inquires the hybrid, who is still trying to fight to regain her focus back from Katherine wearing tight and shiny things.
"It did not occur to me, Mistress," Liza admits. "I'm not familiar with what weapons would be appropriate."
"Sabers," Katie suggests. "Swords work everywhere and don't need power or ammunition. They also look very nice with a good uniform."
"In an official confrontation where the rules of Galactic combat apply, any opponents would be forced to use similar weapons as well," Necessity reminds. "So when facing a superior armed force, we could overcome that handicap."
Tasha nods her head again. "Understandable. We can debate them later, with the others." She then turns to Katherine. "Yes, that's well and good, but we should consider more substantial weaponry at some point. It's very hard to stab someone in freefall, or when they're half a mile away." The faux-mezzode herself could snipe at someone a mile or more without optics.
"None of us have freefall or vacuum combat training though," Katie notes. "We'd need that to go along with any complex weapons."
"Really?" Tasha does her best to sound surprised, but of course she knew this detail. "Well, we can see to that." She nods once, then gestures towards the exit. "But we should be going, I don't know when the Silent-Ones will make contact and I'd like some time to prepare."
Liza finishes things up with Ossif - including ordering the jumpsuits, 'diplomatic suit' and Katie's uniform so she could use it to sell the other crew on it. The store did not provide anything in the way of dolphin clothing, and certainly not anything giant armored starfish creatures, so that wasn't an issue. The previous batch of clothing was bagged up so that Liza and Necessity could carry them, and then the shopping was done for the clothing store.
"So how close am I to critical Gabriel disappointment danger," Tasha whispers aside to Liza after they depart the shop, where she hopes that Katherine can't hear. "I know you're my monitor."
"The jumpsuit will make him forget about the cost," Liza assures. "I know that he likes a certain look for uniforms as well, if his reading choices are any indication. A good hat, coat and sword and a professional, legitimate business look along with the security accessories will sell him on the cost. But we need to generate income soon. Kaa and Moka have been keeping things afloat with their smuggling, but it is not a high profit endeavor. I assume Dr. Sen will be providing some funding however."
Tasha grimaces at the mention of cost. Were this Sinai, or even Abaddon, Tasha could come up with countless ways to secure funding. Given that it's not, her options are limited by her sheer lack of experience with Galactic space. "If Yue fails, we'll need to bring everyone together and see what we can come up with. We might be able to arrange something like having Katherine put on a show, and I'll be putting on one later in a way, but I'm not sure that will keep us afloat either. We'll need something more, and soon, yet without getting ourself tied up."
"Mr. Invention was scouting office spaces and business charters on our first foray," Katie says. "You can actually register a vessel on Caltrop, which is a pretty standard practice for independents. Most of those are Belters though, who own their own ships. There are extremely few independent interstellar craft. That alone would make us a commodity. His research suggested 'private courier service' would be legitimate enough. The sort of service intelligence agents would need."
"And data doesn't take up a lot of cargo space," Tasha agrees, finding value in the plan. The Dark Horse is not large for an interstellar craft, it's significantly on the small size in fact. Room on spacecraft is usually at a premium and that runs double for her ship. Even her crew is getting a bit large and soon what little open space there was will be consumed by the new quarters assignments and general rooms. "We'll investigate that further. For now, I have some public relations to do."
"Keep in mind that opening an office means someone has to stay to operate it," Necessity notes. "That would be myself and Mr. Invention."
"That means I'll need to share Liza with Ketherine and we won't have eitehr of your expertise on board. You'll also be vulnerable, because we may not be on hand to assist you and you're knew to ... " The hybrid makes a vague gesture at their surroundings," ... this environment. Are you okay with that? Is Mr. I?"
"We are trained infiltration and propaganda agents," Necessity says and winks. "Also the least likely to raise questions. Mr. Invention is very persuasive, and very few people ever really question him."
"Then I guess I'd better not question the matter then," Tasha admirs, winking back a second later. "Well, the job is yours if you want it. That'll come with pay, when we can pay people. You're not going to be too worried about Katherine?"
"She's got the same training," Necessity notes. Katherine smirks. "The.. domesticated nature.. of Karnors out here gives me an advantage in being underestimated as well. Same goes for all of us, really, even the Lapis. We're tougher than we look, just like you."
"Lightfoot did mention that the Silent-Ones here are not as robust as our Savanites. Coming from a savage, primitive backwater has its upside," Liza adds.
"I could kill like a hundred Humans," Tasha insists with a grin, misquoting a line from one of the Dainty Mauler holovid shows where a cyborg-alien hybrid villain brags about its superiority in human termination units. "But we have more than that. If I can get support from other powers, we'll be a lot better off. I plan to." She then nods to Liza. "And we have all our allies, who aren't to be underestimated."
"Even if some of them are old and difficult," Tasha adds a second later, with some distaste.
"How much are you going to tell the Silent-Ones and Vartans about Dark Horse?" Katherine asks. "The Silent-Ones I know claim to find espionage beneath them, but they have their informant networks and secret agreements. The Vartans I assume have their own network or need to start developing one independent of the Khattans. We already have our own Terragens agent, but can't assume other powers will give their operatives the same sort of free-hand."
"Nothing just yet, I want to get a better look of how everything operates before I start revealing ourselves to other powers. Of the two, the Silent-Ones are probably more likely to be trustworthy simply because they don't admit to these sorts of things and their head of state is already aware of us. Their agent made that clear, if not how much they know about us. I'll let them speculate and if they need us, they can ask first. I half expect calling on me to judge is ust another way for them to assess us without actually seeming to do so." Tasha gives a little shrug, as if to say, 'Silent-Ones, what can you do.'
"What has your impression been of the Confederates out here so far?" Katie asks as they walk along. "They were willing to work with the Titanians, right?"
"They seem very open, much more intimate than Terragens in some ways, but in a quiet way. I think their special organic techniologies make them more used to it somehow, more understanding. It's hard to describe. Their own technology is also very visceral, so I don't think as much bothers them and they're more used to being outsiders among Galactics because of it. So, I think they're more willing to go their own way and associate with independents." Tasha glances around, subtly, before resuming. "I think Iria-- No I know she knows some of the truth about us. It was that communion system, it's hard to hide things when you're linked to other people. We didn't know what it was until it was too late."
"Can they use our services though?" Katie asks. "I don't know what's in the Viceroy's package, but if it isn't enough to secure a ship for Abaddon, we'll have to trade services. They do like exotic modes of travel it seems."
"They do, but I just don't know very much about them. In some ways I know more about the Celestials than I do about the Confederates. I even met their--" Tasha bites her lip; no need to talk about that. What they're already saying is risky enough. "Um, anyway I don't know. I'll investigate when I meet Iria to negotiate."
"Taking Gabe with you for that?" Katie asks, then stops. There's an altercation up ahead.
"No I--" Tasha was about to say she'd go alone so as not to reveal more than she already had and also not to startle Iria, but is cut off. She turns away from Katherine and perks her ears, brows arching.
People are clearing a space up ahead, where two Vartans are facing off. One is a woman wearing the purple-red armor of Clan Erinyes, and the one facing her is a big male in 'civilian' armor with a scarred beak. "Scum-sucking traitors need to watch their tone!" the woman hisses, and has one hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "Why? Ears sore from having kitties lick them? You're just a trained pet!" the man shoots back, but doesn't reach for his own blade yet.
"Lets seperate for now, I want to get closer and listen to this but I look like a Khattan toy and I might draw attention," the faux-mezzode whispers to the others, then angles off as her group nears the gathered onlookers. "If you want to return to the ship, I'll meet you later."
"This is educational," Katie whispers back. "I want to see how these Vartans de-escalate things, or if they just fight."
"Alright, safer if there's a Terragens group and a Khattan group though. You might get different reactions and that might be useful. Liza, with me and stay behind me." And with that Tasha breaks off completely, pushing in to the crowd and making her way closer for a ring side seat.
"It's our work that finances Vartan civilization," the Erinyes woman claims. "What do you do besides finance barkeeps and prostitutes? I wouldn't trust you to break bread, much less heads!"
"I could break you in," the man leers. "Show you what a difference real experience makes. I don't have a battle-group backing me up, so I take actual risks. And when I come out on top, I know it was by my own hands."
The arguement begins to feel familiar to Tasha, but on a meta level that seems to apply across Vartan civilization -- be it in the Galactic or back home. She feels like she's argued this before, been across the sides; been depressed about it. She wonders how universal a feeling that is amongst her kind. Deep down all Galactic Vartans must know they sold themselves out, with varying degrees of justification, denial, resentment and regret. She has sometimes wondered if beign part Karnor allowed her to step away from that arguement and join a more 'respectable' species, one with ambition, one that didn't sell itself despite roughly even beginnings with other Progenitor-made species.
The armored woman does draw her sword then. The ceramic blade doesn't have the shine of steel, but is double-edged and light. The man scowls, as it's now on him to follow up or back down. The mood in the crowd seems to be that the woman has called the bluff and won. "So, you can't win by argument, so going with the blade, eh?" the man says. "I'm not a fool. I could beat you, you know - but not your whole damned Clan. Not putting my family on the chopping block just to teach you a lesson." With that, he turns his back and the crowd parts to let him leave.
"Is that true?" Tasha asks out loud, filling the silence of the after-arguement with her voice.
The Erinyes woman visibly vibrates with anger at the dismissal, only to turn her ire on Tasha for speaking out. "I can hold my own," she snaps (literally, ending with a beak-clack). Her feathers are puffed out now, and it takes her some effort to sheath her sword. The crowd has already moved on though. It isn't clear who won the confrontation, but the woman certainly isn't acting like she did.
Tasha steps closer to the woman, having some experience with bar room fights and back alley altercations. Now is not the time to display timidity. "If that's true, then why didn't you say yes?" She asks, head tilting to the side. "You sound like you have doubts, but you don't want to admit them. But then, you can't exactly make your Clan disappear and even the field, can you? No more than he could have made a Clan materialize out of thin air."
"He's just an outcast," the woman growls. "They always goad Clan members. Especially when they catch us alone. Ruffle our feathers because they know they can walk away! No honor to uphold for them. It's stupid and.. I should not have engaged him."
"It sounded like he was angry. But, then, he does have a reason to be." Tasha glances at the dispersing crowd, then spots her fellows and cocks her head to the side indicating they should continue on. Having a crowd of Terragens member staring at the two of them talking won't help matters. "And so do you. I'm not sure his challenge was without risk, but yours wasn't either. And neither of you are completely innocent of hiding behind your positions." The young woman considers her words a moment, then adds, "No more than I would be. But it sounds like he got to you, and I think you got to him before you ever met."
"His standing isn't my fault or responsibility," the woman points out. "He's got no cause to insult me or my Clan. He's just bitter. And I'm not.. what he said I was!" The anger seems to rise up in her again. She isn't much older than Tasha from her looks, either.
"What in particular?" Tasha inquires, finding the sense of deja vu building steadily as she talks to this woman. Woman or girl, as Gabriel once pointed out she still was. Barely an adult, still a teenager. Except she's a teenager who has stared down time's dark maw and gone beyond, but this young woman is unlikely to have had that experience to mature her rapidly. Yet she's still a soldier, and may therefore be more mature than she is. There's a sense of mixed sense of self and age added to the deja vu. "'Sore from having your ears licked by kitties?' That you don't take real risks? That you can't win by arguement?"
"That isn't what started the argument," the Vartan grumbles. "He called me.. trade goods."
Tasha perks her ears, trying to look concerned while not knowing what the term actually means. "Trade goods? Is that a local term?"
The woman blinks at Tasha, and looks at a loss. "That isn't the term. It is.. an insult. That's I'm not a fighter, but a.." the girl says, then seems to fumble. "Clans intermarry, to form bonds and.. for variety," she explains. "So he insinuated that my purpose was to be pretty to get a good mate trade with Sulimack. Do you understand? He as much as called me bait."
Tasha chews on her lip a moment. She's familiar with the concept in a sense, but her version was far less political and in many ways more degrading. Yet, she can't state that and even if she could she isn't sure she wants to admit it. There are parts of her earlier life she hasn't even told Gabriel and Katherine. To make matters worse, she isn't sure she can hide her reaction or future expression regarding the topic. It's no less painful for her, even after all this time.
"Well," she begins, struggling to balance it all and still make coherent conversation and insightful response, " ... it sounds like you may be worried that's the case. That maybe you have doubts about your worth or ability. Maybe you've considered it." That last may be going too far, both in insinuation and personally. The old Tasha would have given a lot for a better future and almost did. She can't quite hide the twist of her stomach at the memories, and struggles to recover. "That ... That maybe it must have disturbed you and caused doubt, or, or ... Or you wouldn't have been angry. Dishonored, but not angry."
"Are you crazy?" the woman asks. "How could it not make me angry? If I called you a pet or a toy, wouldn't you be angry? An insult is an insult! It is meant to make you feel weak.. to make you a victim. It is how cowards fight, to make themselves feel less small by making everyone else smaller. I know who and what I am. It is not for a stranger to label me."
Tasha folds her arms, leaning back a little. "I might be crazy," she admits, arching a brow slightly. "But I still think it got to you more than you want to admit. People who are confident in themselves can resist the labels of others, or at least people a lot of support and their needs met can." That being something Tasha knows from experience, more the latter than the former though she's working on that, too. "He might feel weak. Maybe resentful. I understand why he would feel that way. But, he also picked a that to say to you. I wonder if he's attracted to you, and felt resentful you were beyond him. Or, maybe he had a bad experience with the Clans, maybe he knows his history and doesn't like where we ended up."
"I don't care what he thinks or what he's been through," the girl snaps. "That doesn't give him an excuse to harass me. If I didn't stand up for myself, then I would have been weak, and he would do it again to someone else. We aren't all soldiers. We can't all fight. Most of my clan are analysts and administrators and tacticians. And their families and children. Plenty of girls my age, wearing Clan colors but not armor. I won't have them be afraid to walk around just like anyone else here! I have others to think about and protect, even if they aren't here. This was my shore leave! My first time to an outpost like this! And he ruined it just because he could." Now the girl seems.. well, a different sort of angry, almost to tears.
"If it makes you feel any better, I bet deep down he's hurting nearly as much. Or maybe he's not and he's just sadistic, not everyone has a reason they went wrong. Or, you know, a reason they're right. The universe is cruel." Despite her words, Tasha unfolds her arms and steps over and offers the young woman a hand. "But not all of it. It was brave of you to stand up to him, whatever the truth was. Maybe it was brave of him, too, but it's hard to see it that way when you're mad. Still, I think it was a bit cowardly, but I won't insult you by saying why -- and I think you know what I mean anyway." With her other hand the hybrid gestures off down the concourse. "There's still a lot to see on Caltrop. Do you want to look around with me? Or, maybe we could go find him and sort him out some?"
"I want a drink and meat I've never tasted before," the woman says, deflating a little and taking the offered hand. "I'm Lacci," she says. "Don't call me Lucky."
"I already know a Lucky and he's a pain, so don't worry about that." Tasha folds her fingers around the talon, having used her own taloned hand. It's a real, physical connection in this period when she feels like she's become distant and shrouded in lies. All for a good cause, but no less alienating. She wonders what she might have become if she didn't have Gabriel and the others, what she still might, and it makes her hold on a little more. "I know a few places, we can try them until you find one you like. Have you spent any time around Terragens? Maybe Confederates? I heard there are Titanians ... "
And so the two head off in search of some place better than where they were.
Logfile from Amelia. (OOC) Log start: d:\logs\fenris\2016-12-08_fashionistas.htmlTasha's face feels slightly lopsided after her salon treatment. She'd gotten used to the feathers, and now has to get used to having just fur again, which probably means retraining her left ear movement as well. She can almost feel the tiny light beads attached to some of her hairs, and has to resist the urge to play with their remote control whenever passing a reflective surface.
Walking next to her is Katherine, who is more used to fancy hair and fur treatments. Instead of a metallic look (which she can get for free from Mr. I) she's gone with a coating of lenticular nano-particles that make her hair color shift depending on the light, giving her normal brown locks an ever-changing rainbow sheen.
Liza has taken the lead, referring to a dynamic map on her tablet. "The clothing store isn't far," the doe notes. "I've already gotten a notice that the items I ordered for myself, Mr. Lightfoot and Scholar Hakeber are ready for pickup."
"Thank you Liza." It's still mildly amazing to Tasha that she can, in fact, not only look good but even respectable and classy. Conversely, it came as little surprise she could look like a Titanian, but these days she can no longer get much out of close association with the Titanian forces and so has begun the slow acclimization to Galactic fashion and culture. This has come with benefits, like an amazing new look, but also some sacrifices as her appearance takes mroe work and required the removal of her fake fangs (actual Titanian teeth), something that still causes her to lick over her teeth for the absence. "How are we doing on time?"
"We don't have anything scheduled," Liza says. "I wanted to keep things open since you're still waiting to for the Silent-Ones to send you a time for watching their pretend battle."
"I understand." Sacrifices have also come in the form of deception, propriety, and etiquette. While the Titanians were fairly open, cared little for propriety and even less about etiquette, Galactic society certainly does. Thus, Tasha has found a need to sound more formal, even a bit like an AI to fit with her artificial person persona, as well needing to consider her words and deceptions much more carefully. It feels considerably more restrictive, but she's found that's the price of society and order -- and not just on the level of words and appearance. "Well, I'm nervous, but I never did get a lot of time to look around the station."
"Is there more to it than the bazaar?" Liza asks.
"There are embassies," Katherine notes. "And a few larger business offices."
The hybrid spreads her hands, copying the Khattan gesture she saw earlier, one of expansiveness of product. "There's also the Belter sections, areas dedicated to selling larger machinery, probably automated areas that handle manufacture, growing of food, that sort of thing annnd ... What else? Housing, entertainment, and more specialized services and meeting places like the Seed Lounge. I've only seen a small part of the station personally, however."
The storefront they approach has several 'hard light' clothing models in front, which change outfits and body types every few seconds. They model everything from jumpsuits to spacesuits to fashion wear. The fashion wear also seems to sport crystallized photon (aka 'hard-light') jewelry and accessories. "This is it," Liza says, and pauses to stare at the changing displays.
Tasha walks up behind her assistant, placing her hands on her shoulders and leaning in to look even though she could see the displays from half the concourse away. "It's modern society wonderful?" She asks of no one in partcular, refering of course to Galactic modern society and the sheer difference between the backwards, backwater technological stasis of Sinai -- however beautiful and satured in Sifran technological magic -- and the everyday miracles of Galactic space. "Is this what you imagined, when I asked you to become my assistant?"
"So.. this isn't created by illusion magic?" Liza asks quietly, and pokes one of the mannequins, causing it to ripple like a liquid.
"Not that different," Katie says, looking at her own datapad. "They trick particles of light into behaving like matter. Doesn't the ship do something like that to generate the interior?"
"It's all technology Liza," Tasha explains by mimicking the professorly air of Remiel and Eli. "Even magic. The difference is in how well the concepts are understood and what sort of control every civilization or individual can exert over them! The mages only toy with a technology they don't understand, one that eclipses even what Galactics can produce. Something like this is beyond Planet A., but they could figure it out eventually. Probably. Maybe after thousands of years? It's all about knowing the rules of reality and how to use them -- or if you're advanced enough how to change them."
Then Tasha nods ot Katie. "Something like that. It's not actual matter, but it's a good enough of a facsimilie to appear so at our macro level and be solid."
"We shouldn't loiter and gawk too much like tourists," Miss Necessity notes quietly. "Even if this is a mixing place for homeworlders and.. uh.. colonial rubes.."
"I agree." Tasha uses her hands to steer Liza away from the display and towards the door. "If anyone asks, I was condescending to appear to enjoy trivialities for my new Terran associates. You know how primitive you can be!" The last is said cheerily, the young woman wagging her tail as she moves people.
Katie rolls her eyes, and reminds Tasha, "This is supposed to be your first time outside of your box too, remember."
"Yet I am advanced and surrounded by robots. My best friend is an AI!" Tasha continues to wag, trying very hard to supress her grin. Aldara does not grin much; Aldara is practiced and a big robotic, unused to people and places. "I'm expensive. Be sure not to mar my fur, Liza, or it's coming out of your pay."
The inside of the store is fairly sparse. There are circular platforms like those projecting the displays outside, but at the moment they aren't doing anything. A sharply dressed Khattan with an archaic measuring tape draped across his shoulders bows when they enter though. "Welcome to Clothing Makes The Sapient, I am Ossif, your tailor. How may I help you lovely and exotic ladies?"
"I have a network order to pick up," Liza notes, and displays the invoice on her screen to the lynxoid.
"Ah, yes! I have it here," Ossif says, and snaps his fingers. Part of the back wall opens and a wardrobe rack rolls out, with plastic-covered garments hanging on it.
"After you see to my assistant, I'll let my new Terran associates to go first. They've never been to Caltrop, you see," Tasha remarks in the banal, expectant voice she's been honing for her newest disguise. Aldara should be used to technological wonders and being tended to, though not necessarily much more beyond Titan dueling and invented House duties. A specialized being, here to expand. "It's very exciting for them."
The Lapi holds out a credit stick, and Ossif holds it in left palm while making finger gestures with his right hand, as if manipulating a control surface that only he can see. With a smile, he then hands the stick back. "Would you like to have them delivered?" he asks.
"No, thank you," Liza says. Having things delivered to the ship was on the list of 'avoid if at all possible' activities they'd decided on earlier. "I can carry them."
Tasha nods to this, it's all very expected. After all, as a walking anacronisim it shouldn't surprise anyone that her assistant would be given to such affectation either.
"What sort of non-civilian styles do you offer?" Katherine asks once the transaction is over, and Ossif directs her to stand on one of the display platforms. His fingers again dance in mid air, and a duplicate of Katie shows up on the next platform, wearing an unadorned gray tunic-over-pants style uniform. "This is the base Karnor model," Ossif explains. "All of the color, trim, decorations and style modifications are made to order, of course."
Tasha steps aside to watch, feigning mild interest while actually being very much interested. A expensive mezzode like herself wouldn't be surprised by such things, after all. Normally she might help Liza with the clothing as well, but that too isn't something a valuable hybrid like herself would do normally. It's different when she's alone, or trying to impress others or making efforts towards inter-species relations, but as with Katherine and her attendands servants are apparently supposed to be exempt. Another sacrifice, even if it isn't much of one. Standing about looking bland makes Tasha ansty.
Miss Necessity asks if she can have a manual interface, and Ossif hands her a small sheet of glass. Using this, she and Katie quickly cycle through many options, until they have an asymmetrical skirt on the tunic, along with a sticky-belt and a high collar. The pants get built-in boots, and a metallic-black finish. The tunic is split, with under-folding right half in the same black, but the left side that folds over towards the right hip in silvery white. The belt and hems are gold, the hems being braided in a semi-military style. A final touch is a black chess knight emblem over the heart. "What do you think?" Katie asks Tasha as the model rotates on the other platform.
"It's certainly very functional," Tasha remarks of the uniform, finding it to be a struggle to both approve of something while also finding it common and bland, and then also seeming not to notice she's reacting to it in such a way. Being a Titanian was so much easier. "If that's what your aiming for, and I believe it is. I don't exactly have any experience in these things, as I told you, I'd have something like this taken care of for me. But, but, I'm supposed to be learning so let me think. Moment."
Head tilting, Tasha makes a show of regarding the unform with more interest, looking it up and down. "Now, fromt what you've told me, I would say that it fits very well for the most part. The members are Terran, after all, aren't they? And it's very Terrangens. I'm not sure I like the symbology over the heart, perhaps on the upper arm? You could use each arm, one for general symbology and one for personal or professional. Medals and other things go over the heart. That's what I remember from my lessons. Over the heart. And on the collar, for rank and other insignia. It's historical. If names are being used, those can go over the heart or under or over the upper arm iconage."
As Tasha speaks, Miss Necessity makes alterations. The knight is shifted to the upper left sleeve.. and wings are added, in a laurel-leaf style pattern to bracket the chess symbol. Gold studs and bars flash in and out on the collar as potential rank emblems. The tunic also cycles through a few different colors replacing the white, for potential service divisions - white for command, green for medical and so on.
"I like the use of color and the clean, easy recognizable rank symbols. If your goal is function, but with a degree of style, I should think identifiables should be obvious without being obtrusive." While the affectation comes from every wealthy, pampered, and prestigious individual Tasha has ever met, the vocabularly is purely Nora's. Nora's vocabulary was and is considerable, and Tasha has long since realized the Karnor never used it to its full extent quite possibly for the same reasons she doesn't. After all, language, like cunning, affectation, style demeanor all effect how people see you. Nora prefered to be low key, but with presence, while Tasha herself has changed her behavior to fit need, to experiement, but also she's become a little afraid of seeming too educated -- or uncomfortably, too intelligent. Even to herself. "That is to say, I like the changes."
"Once you have registered the design, I can have it produced in any number or size with standard body type modifications available," Ossif says.
Katie hmmms. "I am tempted to add caps," she notes. "You can do a lot of image control with a good cap. People respond to headwear."
"Historically, Terragens bridge officers favored a hat with a brim. Headwear for other departments, and when officers and ... Enlisted? Enlisted personnel were divided during different eras, that should be considered as well. Among the Vartan Clans, rank can be identified by other means, such as weaponry," Tasha taps the hilt of her sword, " ... and that is a possibility. Armor, space suits, and so on, those may have different designs or imagery for rank." It's all things the young woman remember from Gabriel's talks, from historical data, and from old records.
Miss Necessity searches a bit, but manages to bring up caps, berets, scarves, overcoats and the familiar style naval hats Tasha is familiar with from airships. Even Eyeshine has a captain's hat he wears on special occasions. Along with a high-collared 'sea' coat, Gabriel in particular would look classically captainish with one of the hats. Or a bit piratey. The coats make everyone look bigger, including Katie's model. The scarves can add extra flashes of color, and also look very professional when folded and tucked into the tunic.
And the brims can be pulled down to obscure features. After getting Liza onto a platform, it turns out that Lapis can wear the standard style crew caps well enough, which doubles as a way to hide their ears. And turning the brim in different directions does seem to work for defining attitude, from 'on the job' to 'casual' to 'who is buying the next round?'
"The scarves are nice. That particular hat reminds me of several entertainments, however." Openly surpporting anything resembling piracy is something Tasha decides she can't afford, especially given how Ilia made the connection between her and the Titanians with little more than some emotions and stray thoughts. Being openly associated with Titanians would sink her chances to walk openly in her natural -- as natural as it can be -- form, remanding her to more complex disguises, concealment, and the underworld in general. Thus, she frowns. "And the station sees enough of that as it is. But, I agree about hats in general."
The human woman is still manipulating the slate she was given, but nothing is showing up on the model. "There are a lot of options and accessories.." Necessity says, and turns the display towards Tasha. It's displaying a 'comms kit' that includes an earbud, some sort of thin collar and what looks like a pressurized canister. "Audio, video and sub-vocal," she tells Tasha.
"How traditional," Tasha observes, nodding slowly. In addition to being an older -- and thus much more easily understood -- model, it's simplicty would allow for easier repair. The Dark Horse may be one of the most advanced ships active in Galactic space, but it has neither infinite resources not ifinite space, and it tends to travel to where complex devices may fail. "It fits with the general style, I agree."
Necessity adds the kit, along with another 'standard' package of reactive impact mesh, diamond power thread and heat exchange membranes. Despite looking simple, each uniform would run over a thousand credits. The comms kits are 300 each by themselves, and most of that is for the two-way optic eye-spray.
Tasha nods with slow head approval. "This seems to be what you were looking for." She then makes an effort to pause, cock her head in apparent thought, then she nods again. "And there is that offer to permit me to tour with you. I believe my House will approve of it, they have been eager to improve relations ever since the fiasco between Khomen and the Silent-Ones, and Terrag openness is well known. Yet, I won't be a member of the crew nor strictly a passenger and my priciples will be providing funding. I'll need something suitable."
Katie grins, and gestures for Tasha to take Liza's place on the other platform.
Tasha approaches the platform, stepping up and tilting her head tilting her head slightly in a bored affectation. After all, she's supposed to be used to being told to stand still and be stylized. "I am ready," she states, sounding prepared but slightly commanding.
Katie takes the control slate from Necessity, and gets a devilish grin. After a minute of fiddling, the models of both Tasha and herself are sporting tight black jumpsuits with plunging necklines that flow into high collars. Gold edging actually glows, outlining belts and flared, split wrist and boot cuffs. They aren't all that different from Katie's motorcycle outfit. There aren't any rank insignia, but the winged-knight icon is on the shoulders in glowing gold. A side-skirt-sash connects to either the right or left side to accommodate a holster or sword sheath, and a matching scarf goes around the neck (conveniently covering any throat-mike collar). A capless visor with flip-down chrome eyecovers crowns them off, while two different styles of boot fit the Karnor and Vartan feet, both of them having obvious metal toe caps.
There's a limit to how much self-control Tasha can exert, and with this new uniform Tasha finds herself more than a little beyond it. Her ears flick at first, then flatten and her eyes look a bit wide. It's not that she doesn't like that outfit, she does, but it's so very different from the other ones and after spending days acting proper and professional it's more than a little jarring to switch back to acknowledging her racier side. Besides, if she turns it down Katie will be upset -- and also not wearing it. Gabriel will also not get to see her wear it. And it's very shiny.
"Um, it's ... very ... Very," is about all she can managed.
"Dangerous?" Katie offers. "You're a duelist. You should look as sleek and dangerous and inspiring as your Titan, shouldn't you? You don't need armor for that."
"It looks very confident, certainly," Liza comments.
"I ... should," Tasha agrees at length. Clearly she and her Titan are not the only things that are dangerous.
"May I have a try?" Liza asks, before Katie is emboldened to try something even more 'confident' on Tasha.
Tasha opens her mouth, but decides against it. She's not about to dismiss Katherine, that would be dangerous. Instead she tries to look very stoic, as Gabriel might.
Katie saves the designs before handing over the slate. Liza takes her time looking through things, before displaying her notion of the owner of a starship. First is the collarless coat. A bit of padding flares the shoulders out a bit wider - almost masculinely so. The sleeves are loose and only elbow length, while the coat itself reaches to Tasha's knees. It remains open, and probably couldn't close in front. It's white with black edging, and the opening is reminiscent of a keyhole, round around the neck and flaring more at the bottom. The Dark Horse icon is on each upper arm. Beneath this is a contrasting loose gold blouse, with a tucked-in black scarf. Other than a metallic pattern it's fairly plain. There's a broad fabric belt, also black, above a rather normal looking pair of loose gray pants and soft black booties. Two light-crystal earrings are the only extra adornment for the head, but a few simple glowing rings are worn on the Vartan talons, including some sort of ornate gold finger-armor over
the index talon. The coat and pants are very business-like, while the blouse and jewelry soften things to be more feminine. There's nothing covering her forearms though, which are exposed to express a bit of physical strength. "I think this will command respect and attention without worrying about drool, and would be suitable for contract or other negotiations," the Lapi offers.
For someone from Sinai, the outfit most closely resembles what a Mage might wear. Mage Latania could certainly pull it off.
While Tasha may know history, she accepts she doesn't know fashion. She can dress herself, she can look reasonably good, and she certainly knows how to be seductive in a girl-next-door slash barmaid sort of way but as for true fashion and professional couture, she has no idea. Her life is simply too hectic and too travel laden for her to really learn it, and thus she accepts she must defer to more learned minds. "It is that," she says with mild approval, the most approval she thinks Aldara could manage in a dress session. Yet, she doesn't want to sink Katherine's design, she already shot down her various new toys and entertainments, so she hedges between ship, man, and woman by offering, "But I'll give Katherine's idea a try too. For other occassions."
"There will always be venues where one will work better than the other," Liza agrees. "Versatility is important."
"It is," Tasha agrees, inclining her head. So, too, is diplomacy.
"I do have some general purpose clothing on file," Liza notes, and gestures to the clothing rack with her first batch. "We can always get more like that as needed."
After stepping down Tasha gestures assent to Liza. "There will always be other opportunities to expand the wardrobe, and Katherine and her fellows have their means. Does this conclude our shopping trip, then?"
Ossif accepts the slate from Liza, and says, "I have moved the designs to the account Miss Liza created earlier. I can begin fabrication on the unique outfits immediately, and can start the uniforms once you have send me all of the final details. The comm kits I will need to get from my supplier, but he carries a large stock of such items, along with weapons and other tools."
"Did you order weaponry, Liza?" Inquires the hybrid, who is still trying to fight to regain her focus back from Katherine wearing tight and shiny things.
"It did not occur to me, Mistress," Liza admits. "I'm not familiar with what weapons would be appropriate."
"Sabers," Katie suggests. "Swords work everywhere and don't need power or ammunition. They also look very nice with a good uniform."
"In an official confrontation where the rules of Galactic combat apply, any opponents would be forced to use similar weapons as well," Necessity reminds. "So when facing a superior armed force, we could overcome that handicap."
Tasha nods her head again. "Understandable. We can debate them later, with the others." She then turns to Katherine. "Yes, that's well and good, but we should consider more substantial weaponry at some point. It's very hard to stab someone in freefall, or when they're half a mile away." The faux-mezzode herself could snipe at someone a mile or more without optics.
"None of us have freefall or vacuum combat training though," Katie notes. "We'd need that to go along with any complex weapons."
"Really?" Tasha does her best to sound surprised, but of course she knew this detail. "Well, we can see to that." She nods once, then gestures towards the exit. "But we should be going, I don't know when the Silent-Ones will make contact and I'd like some time to prepare."
Liza finishes things up with Ossif - including ordering the jumpsuits, 'diplomatic suit' and Katie's uniform so she could use it to sell the other crew on it. The store did not provide anything in the way of dolphin clothing, and certainly not anything giant armored starfish creatures, so that wasn't an issue. The previous batch of clothing was bagged up so that Liza and Necessity could carry them, and then the shopping was done for the clothing store.
"So how close am I to critical Gabriel disappointment danger," Tasha whispers aside to Liza after they depart the shop, where she hopes that Katherine can't hear. "I know you're my monitor."
"The jumpsuit will make him forget about the cost," Liza assures. "I know that he likes a certain look for uniforms as well, if his reading choices are any indication. A good hat, coat and sword and a professional, legitimate business look along with the security accessories will sell him on the cost. But we need to generate income soon. Kaa and Moka have been keeping things afloat with their smuggling, but it is not a high profit endeavor. I assume Dr. Sen will be providing some funding however."
Tasha grimaces at the mention of cost. Were this Sinai, or even Abaddon, Tasha could come up with countless ways to secure funding. Given that it's not, her options are limited by her sheer lack of experience with Galactic space. "If Yue fails, we'll need to bring everyone together and see what we can come up with. We might be able to arrange something like having Katherine put on a show, and I'll be putting on one later in a way, but I'm not sure that will keep us afloat either. We'll need something more, and soon, yet without getting ourself tied up."
"Mr. Invention was scouting office spaces and business charters on our first foray," Katie says. "You can actually register a vessel on Caltrop, which is a pretty standard practice for independents. Most of those are Belters though, who own their own ships. There are extremely few independent interstellar craft. That alone would make us a commodity. His research suggested 'private courier service' would be legitimate enough. The sort of service intelligence agents would need."
"And data doesn't take up a lot of cargo space," Tasha agrees, finding value in the plan. The Dark Horse is not large for an interstellar craft, it's significantly on the small size in fact. Room on spacecraft is usually at a premium and that runs double for her ship. Even her crew is getting a bit large and soon what little open space there was will be consumed by the new quarters assignments and general rooms. "We'll investigate that further. For now, I have some public relations to do."
"Keep in mind that opening an office means someone has to stay to operate it," Necessity notes. "That would be myself and Mr. Invention."
"That means I'll need to share Liza with Ketherine and we won't have eitehr of your expertise on board. You'll also be vulnerable, because we may not be on hand to assist you and you're knew to ... " The hybrid makes a vague gesture at their surroundings," ... this environment. Are you okay with that? Is Mr. I?"
"We are trained infiltration and propaganda agents," Necessity says and winks. "Also the least likely to raise questions. Mr. Invention is very persuasive, and very few people ever really question him."
"Then I guess I'd better not question the matter then," Tasha admirs, winking back a second later. "Well, the job is yours if you want it. That'll come with pay, when we can pay people. You're not going to be too worried about Katherine?"
"She's got the same training," Necessity notes. Katherine smirks. "The.. domesticated nature.. of Karnors out here gives me an advantage in being underestimated as well. Same goes for all of us, really, even the Lapis. We're tougher than we look, just like you."
"Lightfoot did mention that the Silent-Ones here are not as robust as our Savanites. Coming from a savage, primitive backwater has its upside," Liza adds.
"I could kill like a hundred Humans," Tasha insists with a grin, misquoting a line from one of the Dainty Mauler holovid shows where a cyborg-alien hybrid villain brags about its superiority in human termination units. "But we have more than that. If I can get support from other powers, we'll be a lot better off. I plan to." She then nods to Liza. "And we have all our allies, who aren't to be underestimated."
"Even if some of them are old and difficult," Tasha adds a second later, with some distaste.
"How much are you going to tell the Silent-Ones and Vartans about Dark Horse?" Katherine asks. "The Silent-Ones I know claim to find espionage beneath them, but they have their informant networks and secret agreements. The Vartans I assume have their own network or need to start developing one independent of the Khattans. We already have our own Terragens agent, but can't assume other powers will give their operatives the same sort of free-hand."
"Nothing just yet, I want to get a better look of how everything operates before I start revealing ourselves to other powers. Of the two, the Silent-Ones are probably more likely to be trustworthy simply because they don't admit to these sorts of things and their head of state is already aware of us. Their agent made that clear, if not how much they know about us. I'll let them speculate and if they need us, they can ask first. I half expect calling on me to judge is ust another way for them to assess us without actually seeming to do so." Tasha gives a little shrug, as if to say, 'Silent-Ones, what can you do.'
"What has your impression been of the Confederates out here so far?" Katie asks as they walk along. "They were willing to work with the Titanians, right?"
"They seem very open, much more intimate than Terragens in some ways, but in a quiet way. I think their special organic techniologies make them more used to it somehow, more understanding. It's hard to describe. Their own technology is also very visceral, so I don't think as much bothers them and they're more used to being outsiders among Galactics because of it. So, I think they're more willing to go their own way and associate with independents." Tasha glances around, subtly, before resuming. "I think Iria-- No I know she knows some of the truth about us. It was that communion system, it's hard to hide things when you're linked to other people. We didn't know what it was until it was too late."
"Can they use our services though?" Katie asks. "I don't know what's in the Viceroy's package, but if it isn't enough to secure a ship for Abaddon, we'll have to trade services. They do like exotic modes of travel it seems."
"They do, but I just don't know very much about them. In some ways I know more about the Celestials than I do about the Confederates. I even met their--" Tasha bites her lip; no need to talk about that. What they're already saying is risky enough. "Um, anyway I don't know. I'll investigate when I meet Iria to negotiate."
"Taking Gabe with you for that?" Katie asks, then stops. There's an altercation up ahead.
"No I--" Tasha was about to say she'd go alone so as not to reveal more than she already had and also not to startle Iria, but is cut off. She turns away from Katherine and perks her ears, brows arching.
People are clearing a space up ahead, where two Vartans are facing off. One is a woman wearing the purple-red armor of Clan Erinyes, and the one facing her is a big male in 'civilian' armor with a scarred beak. "Scum-sucking traitors need to watch their tone!" the woman hisses, and has one hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "Why? Ears sore from having kitties lick them? You're just a trained pet!" the man shoots back, but doesn't reach for his own blade yet.
"Lets seperate for now, I want to get closer and listen to this but I look like a Khattan toy and I might draw attention," the faux-mezzode whispers to the others, then angles off as her group nears the gathered onlookers. "If you want to return to the ship, I'll meet you later."
"This is educational," Katie whispers back. "I want to see how these Vartans de-escalate things, or if they just fight."
"Alright, safer if there's a Terragens group and a Khattan group though. You might get different reactions and that might be useful. Liza, with me and stay behind me." And with that Tasha breaks off completely, pushing in to the crowd and making her way closer for a ring side seat.
"It's our work that finances Vartan civilization," the Erinyes woman claims. "What do you do besides finance barkeeps and prostitutes? I wouldn't trust you to break bread, much less heads!"
"I could break you in," the man leers. "Show you what a difference real experience makes. I don't have a battle-group backing me up, so I take actual risks. And when I come out on top, I know it was by my own hands."
The arguement begins to feel familiar to Tasha, but on a meta level that seems to apply across Vartan civilization -- be it in the Galactic or back home. She feels like she's argued this before, been across the sides; been depressed about it. She wonders how universal a feeling that is amongst her kind. Deep down all Galactic Vartans must know they sold themselves out, with varying degrees of justification, denial, resentment and regret. She has sometimes wondered if beign part Karnor allowed her to step away from that arguement and join a more 'respectable' species, one with ambition, one that didn't sell itself despite roughly even beginnings with other Progenitor-made species.
The armored woman does draw her sword then. The ceramic blade doesn't have the shine of steel, but is double-edged and light. The man scowls, as it's now on him to follow up or back down. The mood in the crowd seems to be that the woman has called the bluff and won. "So, you can't win by argument, so going with the blade, eh?" the man says. "I'm not a fool. I could beat you, you know - but not your whole damned Clan. Not putting my family on the chopping block just to teach you a lesson." With that, he turns his back and the crowd parts to let him leave.
"Is that true?" Tasha asks out loud, filling the silence of the after-arguement with her voice.
The Erinyes woman visibly vibrates with anger at the dismissal, only to turn her ire on Tasha for speaking out. "I can hold my own," she snaps (literally, ending with a beak-clack). Her feathers are puffed out now, and it takes her some effort to sheath her sword. The crowd has already moved on though. It isn't clear who won the confrontation, but the woman certainly isn't acting like she did.
Tasha steps closer to the woman, having some experience with bar room fights and back alley altercations. Now is not the time to display timidity. "If that's true, then why didn't you say yes?" She asks, head tilting to the side. "You sound like you have doubts, but you don't want to admit them. But then, you can't exactly make your Clan disappear and even the field, can you? No more than he could have made a Clan materialize out of thin air."
"He's just an outcast," the woman growls. "They always goad Clan members. Especially when they catch us alone. Ruffle our feathers because they know they can walk away! No honor to uphold for them. It's stupid and.. I should not have engaged him."
"It sounded like he was angry. But, then, he does have a reason to be." Tasha glances at the dispersing crowd, then spots her fellows and cocks her head to the side indicating they should continue on. Having a crowd of Terragens member staring at the two of them talking won't help matters. "And so do you. I'm not sure his challenge was without risk, but yours wasn't either. And neither of you are completely innocent of hiding behind your positions." The young woman considers her words a moment, then adds, "No more than I would be. But it sounds like he got to you, and I think you got to him before you ever met."
"His standing isn't my fault or responsibility," the woman points out. "He's got no cause to insult me or my Clan. He's just bitter. And I'm not.. what he said I was!" The anger seems to rise up in her again. She isn't much older than Tasha from her looks, either.
"What in particular?" Tasha inquires, finding the sense of deja vu building steadily as she talks to this woman. Woman or girl, as Gabriel once pointed out she still was. Barely an adult, still a teenager. Except she's a teenager who has stared down time's dark maw and gone beyond, but this young woman is unlikely to have had that experience to mature her rapidly. Yet she's still a soldier, and may therefore be more mature than she is. There's a sense of mixed sense of self and age added to the deja vu. "'Sore from having your ears licked by kitties?' That you don't take real risks? That you can't win by arguement?"
"That isn't what started the argument," the Vartan grumbles. "He called me.. trade goods."
Tasha perks her ears, trying to look concerned while not knowing what the term actually means. "Trade goods? Is that a local term?"
The woman blinks at Tasha, and looks at a loss. "That isn't the term. It is.. an insult. That's I'm not a fighter, but a.." the girl says, then seems to fumble. "Clans intermarry, to form bonds and.. for variety," she explains. "So he insinuated that my purpose was to be pretty to get a good mate trade with Sulimack. Do you understand? He as much as called me bait."
Tasha chews on her lip a moment. She's familiar with the concept in a sense, but her version was far less political and in many ways more degrading. Yet, she can't state that and even if she could she isn't sure she wants to admit it. There are parts of her earlier life she hasn't even told Gabriel and Katherine. To make matters worse, she isn't sure she can hide her reaction or future expression regarding the topic. It's no less painful for her, even after all this time.
"Well," she begins, struggling to balance it all and still make coherent conversation and insightful response, " ... it sounds like you may be worried that's the case. That maybe you have doubts about your worth or ability. Maybe you've considered it." That last may be going too far, both in insinuation and personally. The old Tasha would have given a lot for a better future and almost did. She can't quite hide the twist of her stomach at the memories, and struggles to recover. "That ... That maybe it must have disturbed you and caused doubt, or, or ... Or you wouldn't have been angry. Dishonored, but not angry."
"Are you crazy?" the woman asks. "How could it not make me angry? If I called you a pet or a toy, wouldn't you be angry? An insult is an insult! It is meant to make you feel weak.. to make you a victim. It is how cowards fight, to make themselves feel less small by making everyone else smaller. I know who and what I am. It is not for a stranger to label me."
Tasha folds her arms, leaning back a little. "I might be crazy," she admits, arching a brow slightly. "But I still think it got to you more than you want to admit. People who are confident in themselves can resist the labels of others, or at least people a lot of support and their needs met can." That being something Tasha knows from experience, more the latter than the former though she's working on that, too. "He might feel weak. Maybe resentful. I understand why he would feel that way. But, he also picked a that to say to you. I wonder if he's attracted to you, and felt resentful you were beyond him. Or, maybe he had a bad experience with the Clans, maybe he knows his history and doesn't like where we ended up."
"I don't care what he thinks or what he's been through," the girl snaps. "That doesn't give him an excuse to harass me. If I didn't stand up for myself, then I would have been weak, and he would do it again to someone else. We aren't all soldiers. We can't all fight. Most of my clan are analysts and administrators and tacticians. And their families and children. Plenty of girls my age, wearing Clan colors but not armor. I won't have them be afraid to walk around just like anyone else here! I have others to think about and protect, even if they aren't here. This was my shore leave! My first time to an outpost like this! And he ruined it just because he could." Now the girl seems.. well, a different sort of angry, almost to tears.
"If it makes you feel any better, I bet deep down he's hurting nearly as much. Or maybe he's not and he's just sadistic, not everyone has a reason they went wrong. Or, you know, a reason they're right. The universe is cruel." Despite her words, Tasha unfolds her arms and steps over and offers the young woman a hand. "But not all of it. It was brave of you to stand up to him, whatever the truth was. Maybe it was brave of him, too, but it's hard to see it that way when you're mad. Still, I think it was a bit cowardly, but I won't insult you by saying why -- and I think you know what I mean anyway." With her other hand the hybrid gestures off down the concourse. "There's still a lot to see on Caltrop. Do you want to look around with me? Or, maybe we could go find him and sort him out some?"
"I want a drink and meat I've never tasted before," the woman says, deflating a little and taking the offered hand. "I'm Lacci," she says. "Don't call me Lucky."
"I already know a Lucky and he's a pain, so don't worry about that." Tasha folds her fingers around the talon, having used her own taloned hand. It's a real, physical connection in this period when she feels like she's become distant and shrouded in lies. All for a good cause, but no less alienating. She wonders what she might have become if she didn't have Gabriel and the others, what she still might, and it makes her hold on a little more. "I know a few places, we can try them until you find one you like. Have you spent any time around Terragens? Maybe Confederates? I heard there are Titanians ... "
And so the two head off in search of some place better than where they were.