In a dark cathedral at the center of a giant fortress hovering above a neutron star, the black-and-gold Titan Melchior faces an equally large goat-headed figure seated on a throne that appears to be made of bodies frozen in agony. The being calling itself Thotep awaits Tasha's reaction to its request.
"Well," goes Tasha, who speaks in the cockpit and vaguely wonders how she's being heard even as she considers the request, " ... it's not exactly the first time I've moved a body. What sort of body, and do you changeline more than just digging it up? It's probably ancient and scary, right?"
"No more ancient or frightening than I am," Thotep claims. "It is just a bit difficult to get to."
"And how ancient and frightening are you?" Tasha inquires, the Titan's right hand gesturing to the room in a open handed, indicative manner. "The last time I saw this black decor, the halls were filled with eyeballs, teethn and tentacles. That was, um, literal. Literal is the word. Are these actual people, what you actually look like, or something else besidess? And is that what you really look like, or a projection or avatar? Condescending, that's what I heard it described as. Condescending so I can comprehend you."
"It isn't healthy to be too hung up on appearances, Tasha," Thotep says. "And I try to avoid the whole tentacle motif. It's a bit alienating. But this is.. close.. to the form I am generally known in. Just a bit more streamlined. You could say the rest is to dissuade those who are not prepared to deal with me seriously. This universe is incredibly quiet these days. But previous epochs of civilization kept me busy."
"I'm aware that Dark beings can feed on and be called by some sort of psychic energy or the essence of observers, so I'm not new to what you represent. I think you're my fifth now; I've spoen to more beings from the Dark than Vril-ya." Tasha scratches her nose in the cockpit, becoming suddenly aware that the gesture is much akin to Thotep's own beard stroking. Or, more likely, a nervous and thoughtful gesture from her and a precise affectation for Thotep. "Well, hooves and wings are always a good choice and the fangs are good, too. So, the First Ones annnd Old Ones came to you? I heard they did, that you're a prisoner here, and previous civilizations like the ones who built the Horse came to you."
"Oh, I go to them more often than not," Thotep says. "I believe it is called 'building the brand' - and of course I have my servants. But I am no prisoner. What a notion. I would not expect one of the Vril-ya to think that I cannot be in more than one place at a time."
"Co-location," the hybrid notes, nodding slowly in her chair. "That makes sense. If you're not wholly in our universe, then you could stick your nose in all over the place and still be mostly outside it and not even in one time or reality." She chews on her lip a moment, then spreads her hands, the great machine mimicing her. "Horus seemed to think you could help. That you were like the Ogdoad, but different. On their, um, level. But different."
"The Ogdoad are heretics, while I continue to serve my deity," Thotep claims. "Our interests and needs are quite different."
"And ours?" Tasha decides she has to ask. She's been burned too many times by wanting to blindly like godlike beings, aliens, outsiders. That hundering need to like them, and for them to like her, born from some deep seated desire she doesn't entirely understand. Yet, Horus hurt her, and the Vril-ya were never what they seemed. She seems to have ended helping and offering help, with little in return, and still can't quite escape the sense the Ogdoad and their servants are manipulating her somehow. "My deities have been disappointing," she mutters, the act of declaring it openly to this new one not as cathartic as she had hoped.
"That's probably for the best," Thotep claims. "Proper deities are distant and ineffable, and bend to the desires of their worshippers. It is difficult to respect one you can sit down and have a beer with."
"Are you saying I shouldn't respect you?" Tasha's ears flick and her head cocks to the side. No, that's probably not what Thotep said, she decides. "Well, it's not seeing them and talking to them that bad, it's ... The way the lie to me. Or I want them to like me, and offer help, but then I just feel used. Horus is mad at me because the rets of his Vril-ya friends ... selves ... think he made a mistake and asked me to watch over him, but that wasn't my judgement. You have a god, how would you feel if your god popped up and said your existence was a hell to them? After all you did." And so the machine throws its arms up. "I'm still going to hunt down the Ogdru-hem, but because it needs to be done. And what else would I do?"
"Watch and laugh as the universe burns?" Thotep suggests. "And I don't care about respect, or trust, or worship. Your personal existence is not my problem. If you want my help, you will help me first. An honest, basic transaction. No destiny or great cosmic plan involved. And my god is a gibbering idiot, who needs to be kept subdued at all times." Thotep raises up his flute, and says, "It enjoys lullabies."
"There's a lot to be said for resting your head and listening to a song." It's something Tasha decides to seek out later. She's also mildly offended Thotep doesn't /care about her personal existence', but she figures that's true of most of the beings she's met lately. Too small, too insignificant to their grand plans. "Is the flute how you got Tatha-hem in to the ship? Did you make the crystalline cage, too?"
"I told the Tnuctipin how to prepare the harness and bridle," Thotep explains. "And then I broke Tatha-hem to its.. and my.. control."
"I see. Not something I could use without the ship," After leaning back in her chair, Tasha closes her eyes and rolls her shoulders. "I guess if the 'Avenger' can't talk her way through things, she'll need a bigger sword. I'm not sure I like relying on you, though. It's not that I dislike you exactly, but you heard what I said. It's been difficult, and complicated. Unreliable. I want to kill gods with something I didn't borrow, or some other god didn't give me. It's easier to destroy than create, right?"
"No, not really," Thotep claims. "Things can be rebuilt, unless they are destroyed utterly, and utter and complete destruction if very, very difficult. Otherwise the Ogdru-hem would all be gone by now."
"Because they're not all here, is that it? And their rules are different than ours?" Inquires the young woman, eyes still closed. She's come this far, yet somehow talking to this ancient being feels like being at work, a kind of job, yet mixed with the expectant feel and hackle-raising anxiety of being so close to something so beyond her. And yet she finds herself talking and complaining, fully aware of how flippant it is, but not really caring as much as she feels she probably should. As much as would be safe, or at least safeer.
"Trees have deep roots that you cannot see," Thotep notes. "Burn it or chop it up and it might regrow from the untouched roots. But just because they're hidden doesn't mean you can't get to them. Uproot the tree and it will die, without having to be destroyed."
"A tree can't survive if you bury it either. The Ogdru-hem may have a foot in two worlds, but they cannot survive if fully immersed in one or the other."
"Pull them in to a reality they can't feed off of?" Tasha considers. "It's not as fun as hitting things, but it's something. So pull them in or push them out, either way they choke. For their servants, I need a way to beat them. Some can be beaten the regular way, so that's worth thinking about, but the others ... " The Titan gestures behind itself now, to the ship waiting behind her.
"Some have been enslaved," Thotep says. "Some are not so easy to detect or touch. Tatha-hem is not like Urgo-hem. It was without physical form."
Tasha nods to this, she'd heard that said before. "Spirits of the air and of the land, that's what I heard them called. Insubstantial. Is Tatha-hem a spirit of gravitation, then? Could we use other spirits to power other things?"
"Possibly," Thotep says. "But those are answers you haven't earned yet," he points out. "Are you willing to do what I asked? I'm reluctant to give more details without some form of commitment."
Tasha's muzzle splits in to a grin, her eyes opening. "You can't blame me for trying, can you?" And so she shrugs, shoulders rolling. "Alright. I'm even curious what your great galactic self would want that you can't get easily and what the body is. I am an explorer, avenging aside, and I do enjoy these things even when the beings involved are a tricky lot."
"There are four cities of knowledge scattered across the cosmos, and in each city is a wizard," Thotep says, in the tone of someone reciting a quote. "In the city of Faihias, on the world of Praxafallopus, lies the tomb of the wizard Fessus. Within that tomb is the body of one of my servants, Samael. I wish to have him exhumed."
Tasha's first thought is: Oh great, more inpenetrable mission poems. She's still making sense of the last one, and that mission is over. "Is any of that literal?" She asks, hand rubbing at the bridge of her muzzle. "Praxafallopus. I think I've heard of that world? They found an artifact there, I think. But it's not from there. It's from the prison, Erebus. Was your servant part of the reason the Flame was there?"
"That is a reasonable association to make," Thotep says. "And yes, there are four cities of knowledge, on four worlds, and each had a being considered to be a wizard. The cities of Faihias, Findias, Goirias and Murias, hosting the wizards Fessus, Uscias, Esrus and Semias."
"Wizard. And your servant is dead, or at least sleeping, in his tomb. Someone who knew how to work with Dark beings, then. Summon them, maybe. Or, at least bind them. Maybe more." Tasha reaches to rub her nose in thought, but catches herself doing it and so forces ehr hand down. "I touched that artifact, I could feel it pulling at me. It's as good a clue as any and should help us reach that world. I think that the wizard must also have ways to keep your kind out?"
"Actually the wizards are former students of mine," Thotep contends. "I use the term wizard a bit loosely - not precisely the sort you might be used to. Hybrid beings.. but that's not really relevant to the task."
"No, but hybrid beings are interesting to me," Tasha notes, gesturing the machine at itself, and thus herself. "But if you don't wnat to give me more information without me doing things, well, that's the way it is. So, hybrids. Hybrids with a servant and an artifact that just happened to be there. So, um, what makes this so hard to reach, then?"
"Well, that civilization is long dead, what you'd call First Ones," Thotep says. "Their technology did not die with them, and can be dangerous. Survey teams need armed heavy escorts.. like Vartans. The world is desirable for colonization.. but rather hostile."
"I know the type." Tasha nods and the Titan's arms fold without so much as a spark. "It should be interesting, anyway. The Titanian part of me thinks 'ooo, treasure and fighty', and the explorer side of me wants to see this strange new world. And there's the angel and a wizard, too, so that's even more fun." The Titan thus shrugs. "Fine, I'll go find your lost servant. Do you want the body in a container, or should I expect it to get up and want a bunk?"
"I don't know what you should expect," Thotep claims. "Samael has been silent for a very, very long time."
"Maybe he wants a new god," Tasha offers, and so the Titan shrugs again. "Or is taking a nap. Forever seems to burn immortals out, although you seem to be doing okay, so I think that might be short sightedness. Well," she glances back, and so too does the Titan. "I've got my mission, then, and the others will send help if I don't get back soon."
"I wonder how many of them will recognize me?" Thotep asks.. and chuckles. "Tatha-hem will follow your commands again. Fare well."
"Farewell to you too, you spooky old goat." The machine steps back, but then hesitates as Tasha thinks better of it. It inclines its body respectfully, once, then turns to depart. It's only a bit later that she realizes she'd never seen a goat in person before -- it must be one of Nora's.
Once gravity cuts out and the Titan is drifting, Tasha reports in. "Alright, Thotep -- that's what we're calling the Piper now, he doesn't like girls names -- has made his offer. I'm returning. We should have control of the ship, again."
As Dark Horse leaves the Acheron-C system, Hakeber seeks out Tasha. "I knew that creature looked familiar," she says. "It was associated with the original Knights Templar, on Terra, and shows up in a lot of other traditions too." She offers her tablet to Tasha, which has a depiction of a goat-headed being with hooves and wings, and male and female features as well. "The Sabbatic Goat, Baphomet. Representing the power of binding and losing, acting as God's representative and representing the binary sum total of the universe - that is male and female, good and evil, and so on.."
"He sounds like a lot of fun." Tasha's tone is dry, even a bit distracted. She isn't entirely sure why save that she's felt off and more than a little angry since her fight with Horus. Little echos of the person she used to be, making her wonder how much more might crop up -- and if the world then is any different from the world now, just bigger. She drops down on the couch that surrounds one spar of the Horse's containment system, arms resting along the back, body slumping down. She stares at the green glowing crystal and feels sullen, but her expression is blank. "So what does binding and losing have to do with balance, anyway? And did you say male and female? How does that work?"
"I'm not sure if it's meant literally or as the essences of male and female," Hakeber admits. "But binding is obvious, given the situation with the Horse. I don't know about balance though. Unless it's supposed to balance out the Ogdoad or Ogdru-hem? It doesn't seem inclined to act directly against them though, only help others who might."
"Order and Chaos, that's what he ... she? ... said. It works for Chaos, who is a some sort of blubbering idiot god the heeeee-she keeps asleep with pipes. That's probably not literal." And so Tasha blinks, once, and frowns. "Probably not. I need hee-it's help, so we're going to go find an old angel named Samael on Praxafallopus and drag it back here, then it'll explain how to use the Horse. Maybe other things, it's at least kind of straight forward and open. A good talker. Really comprehensible, it was kind of eerie after the others."
"You said it was sort of indifferent, so.. it doesn't need you to like it? So what reason does it have to lie or manipulate then?" Hakeber posits. "It knows it can get what it wants without all of that."
"Why do any of them lie? I think some of them don't even understand us well enough to know they're lying, or lie because something bigger tells them to." Tasha's shrug is slow and broad. "It's the same everywhere, isn't it? Maybe Blackwings was right, at least about that. I don't know/ I'm going to go do it though, because stopping the Ogdoad is still important and it's not like I'm going to go back to Abaddon and listen to college lectures."
"Maybe lies are easier to understand," Hakeber suggests. "Truth is complicated, usually. But anyway.. Lacci has been to Praxafallopus before, so we aren't going in completely unprepared."
"That's good, it's a head start at least." Tasha shifts her feet, putting them farther out as she slides ever lower on the couch. "So has anyone yelled and screamed to go home yet?"
"Not that I've heard," Hakeber says. "The only ones not already used to things like this - or at least the idea of them - are Lacci and Dr. Knight. I'm not as certain about Dr. Sen, and the Phins are very hard to read. I know that Lacci is focusing on our destination because it's something she's familiar with, so it helps her to not really think about what just happened."
"About the really powerful magical goat man-woman I kind-of-sort-of complained at and then kiiind of tried to see if I could trick for a little more information?" Tasha's arms leave the couch, only to shrug. Te movement causes her to slump even further, to the point it looks like she left comfort behind inches ago. She doesn't get up. "That 'just happened'?" She isn't sure what she feels about what just happened, save that it feels vague and distant and some parts job and some parts horror and anxiety. "How are you Hake?"
"Oh, you know.. not quite ready to fall off the edge into utter gibbering insanity," Hakeber claims with a grin and a tail wag. "Although I honestly suspect the thing that sent me in that direction is also actively preventing me from taking that final step. I don't remember a lot of what happened with Urgo-hem's projection here."
Tasha lifts her cloest hoof and tries to awkwardly pull Hakeber closer by her leg, since getting up is clearly not going to happen. "I know what you mean," she confides, ears canting back. "But it's not really the same for me, not anymore. I've seen the hallway to forever, the colors that don't exist. I've met goat-god and the Trumpeterand I know they're all so much bigger than I am it should make me laugh or cry. But, Hake-bear, it just doesn't. Not anymore. They make me nervous, and I think maybe I'm afraid somehow, but I'm also afraid of going back home and not mattering. And, uh, the universe not being eaten is pretty important." And so she shrugs, although the gesture is somewhat lost in the couch's backrest. "When Nora stuffed her memories in I saw it all suddenly. Everything changed. Then it changed again, and again. I think that's just where I live now, and these are who I talk to. This is what I do. It's strange but I've kind of gotten used to it. And it's what I can do."
"Hopefully," Hakeber says as she sits next to Tasha. "We don't know yet what we can do, because we don't know how to do it, or what doing it will actually entail. Horus didn't want to do it because of the cost, after all."
"I know. He didn't want to lose his Vartans, or that's what he tells me anyway. It's not like he's doing a lot now for them, though." Tasha tries to shrug but can't, there's just nowhere left for her shoulders to go. So instead she sits up just enough to grab Hakeber, then rolls on to her side to hug her like a pillow or, appropriately enough, a stuffed bear. "I think I can handle everything but the feeling it's all wearing me down. Every little lie or betrayal, every time I think if I try harder it'll just get harder or impossible. Maybe I'm just tired. It's been a long day."
"The reward for hard work is more work," Hakeber quotes, and tries to fit properly on the couch in case Tasha should let go. "A year ago I was just a mostly-drunk student hitting dead ends on research that should have been really valuable.. if I could only do it. The Kampfengruppe where such a wall, and all I could do was bang my head on it. I miss those days a little. Seeing an impossible task and knowing it was impossible gave me.. I dunno.. an excuse."
"So you're saying I need an excuse to not save the universe and then drink a lot?" Tasha holds on to Hakeber as if she might be a life preserver in a rising ocean. Her wings close like a clamp. "I think I might like this plan, tell me more about it?"
"Well.. if you just skip to the drinking part I find that the rest just follows," Hakeber says, and tries to wag her tail through the clutch. "But.. if you tried that I bet your uncle would say something about it."
Hakeber can't see it, but Tasha squints. "Which uncle is that?"
"The long-eared one who feels compelled to look after every woman he meets," Hakeber points out. "I don't know how between the two of us we haven't given him a heart attack. But he won't let us wallow anymore, because we're 'grown ups' now and so on. I think. I mean I haven't actually seen him do that yet.."
"He'd be like Liza, only talkier about it. Liza just sighs. Aaron lectures. Well, um, kind of does this tired, world-wary review of things and what it means to be this and that and how you're this and ithers are that and you have to just do these other things because what else can you do? Kind of like what I just did a second ago, but more motivational and, um, bunnier." And there goes another shrug. Tasha lays her head on Hakeber's, eyes closing. "It won't just be him either. Gabriel, Yue, Captain Frane ... They're just tell me it's awful but keep going anyway. Mel, too. Where would I be without him? Or any of you?" Hakeber then gets a hug.
"Well if it were just me we'd be sleeping under empty pizza boxes with a drunk Silent-One.." Hakeber says. "But yeah, I think that's the whole gist of being a grown-up: do awful stuff you don't want to because it just has to be done. And telling younger people that so they feel guilty about having fun, of course. I think that's the main pleasure of the grown-up, making kids feel guilty about it somehow."
"So.. we should totally find a party planet that's got booze fountains and pizza trees and pretty guys.. at some point," Hakeber whispers.
"I am so going to ruin Nora," the hybrid insists. She then kisses Hakeber on her head before hauling her up and in to her lap, both facing the crystal. "So what do you think of our Tatha-hem powered ship? Is it just me or does everything I like and feel comfortable in end up being run or haunted by something that makes me uncomfortable with it?"
Tasha then considers Hakber's suggestion and gives it a slow, deeply considerate nod. She reaches down to stroke a fake beard, which just means she rubs Hakeber's muzzle. "I see. Yes, we should do that. I'll bring along my favorite man. You should find a favorite man. Or woman."
"I'll need a bikini," Hakeber says, and then gazes at the crystal as she ponders Tasha's observation. "You haven't noticed the other odd thing yet, have you?"
"The way it reacted to the presence of the other one? or do you mean like how Liza's just a little slow with my tea when she's mad about something I did? I've been kind-of-sort-of busy yelling at gods and plotting their destruction with other gods," Tasha replies, tilting her head so she can look around Hakeber's to peer at her face.
"Noooo," Hakeber says, and licks Tasha's nose suddenly. "I don't want to freak you out but.. Tatha-hem sounds a lot like.. you know.. Tasha-hem."
"Uh," goes Tasha, who sits up straighten and lays her ears back, peering all the harder. "It's just a name, Hake. I mena, it is just a name, right? There's probably a Hakie-hem out there somewhere. It's not like the core is ... Is me somehow. Because I am right here, and whatever Aaron says I'm not an actual demon no matter what anyone or art says."
"I know, it's probably just another coincidence," Hakeber says. "Aaron says not to read too much into stuff like that. He claims it's just that 'reality is lazy' or something. Otherwise we'd be paranoid conspiracy nuts! Which is odd, since I'm pretty sure he is a paranoid conspiracy nut. But I think your mom just liked the name, or knew a Tasha she liked. That seems to be how most kids get named - after a friend or relative or because it sounded nice."
"She told me I was named after a Karnor -- uhm, a Jupani -- woman she overheard once on the docks. I think she was a Guard member, or some functionary. She wanted me to 'sound Ka-- Sound Jupani.' My mother always seemed to think Jupani had it better and I'd be better off with them, which, um, I sort of thought was wishful thinking -- that's the phrase, right? -- wishful thinking. But given how I ended up, I guess she was right. Huh." And so Tasha shakes her head, both for how things turned out and knowing she ought to thank her mother later at some point. "Well, Hake-bear, it probably is a coincidence, but you know what? We can check. Ask. We're both touched, so ... "
Tasha stands up, picking Hakeber up and carrying her over to the spoke, where she settles herself down on the deck. She then intertwines her hand with Hakeber's right, and looks at her. "I felt a reaction the first time. A memory. The core's aware and maybe even sentient, somehow. So lets ask it. Ready, Hake?"
"Hell no I'm not ready," Hakeber says as she takes Tasha's hand. "I am way too sober for this. What do we do?"
"Okay, fine, no one is ever ready for this. What I do is rush in and put my hand on things, and then hope somethings happens. Or, well, hope nothing happens. It depends what kind of mood I'm in." Tasha makes sure their hands are togther, fingers intertwined with one hand holding hands in the other. "So I'm thinking maybe this will work by having two receivers? Like, a radio? And then we just think and ask out loud, um, how about, "ARE YOU TASHA" because I want to know that one. And three, two, one ... "
The hybrid woman guides their hand together, pressing it against the spoke and closing her eyes. "Are you me," she asks, the question resonating within, to that place where a part of her echos with the Horse. The place where Hammers can her their song, and they each other's.
There's something like a thrumming.. or the sound of one's own heartbeat.. but the ultimate reply is a very different sensation. A flavor. It's pleasant but hard to identify.
And so Tasha focuses harder. With all that's happened she finds she's just not willing to let it go at that, that it'll nag at her and eat at her until she's right back here again. She sifts through her memories, trying to find the taste, trying to see if it has any meaning for her.
It's actually causing her to salivate now. There's meat and spice.. but not like anything from Abu-Dhabi, the only place she knows where the meat is regularly spiced. But it also starts to fade. An Ogdru-hem shouldn't know anything about flavor or eating though, unless that's just the closest analog to whatever notion it was trying to express.
Tasha leans back, eyes opening. She wipes her muzzle with the back of her hand after letting go of Hakeber's. "That was weird," she admits, smacking her lips as the sensation lingers. "I think the Horse is hungry? Or I'm hungry?" She looks to Hakeber in askance, eyes a bit wide, lost.
"It is a mystery that can only be solved with the.. food-mo-tron thing in the galley," Hakeber declares. "Something must match! It is our duty as Karnors.. as one-and-a-half Karnors to solve this. Luckily I am an excellent researcher!"
"This is a lecture I can really follow. After whatever that was, I could eat a-- " ... horse. A Horse? Nora, why are your memories so weird? Terrans are weird. Her head shakes, but she does rise and then pick up Hakeber and place her on her feet in turn. "And as both an explorer and as someone who keeps being told how much I need to 'discover myself' -- whatever that means -- I think I required to go with you. No, not just required, the universe must probably maybe demand it. Lead on, Hake-bear! I have no idea how that thing even works."