The first stop of the four-world route is Divine-Sortie Station, a Silent-One's outpost on a world being terraformed (or more specifically zionformed). Since the cargo is too large to fit into the shuttles, Kaa is going to bring the Dark Horse into the thick atmosphere - a first, since the ship really isn't built for planetfall.
"The official name for this world is God-Does-Battle, more or less," Katie notes to those gathered on the bridge to watch. "Might be a First Ones planet, since it was temperate and habitable a million or so years back. Worlds like this tend to produce runaway greenhouse atmosphere's over time - this one is still pretty mild. It's only about 230-degrees centigrade at the surface."
"Terra will be like this eventually," Yue notes. "The star here is in it's pre-giant phase, but still getting hotter and brighter."
"So much for having a quick flap around," Tasha quips, mug in her Karnor hand and taloned hand stuffed in her lace-trimmed jacket pocket. The Dark Horse is usually slightly cool, but even the thought of surface temperatures that high makes ehr consider taking her jacket off. Beyond that, thinking in stellar timeframes always makes her thoughts slip in strange directions, towards that god-space of thought that she feels in the presence of the works of the ancients -- and in the presence of the ancients themselves. Old, by proxy. "I wonder which god did battle here, and what for? And if they're still around." She has another sip.
"It's a Silent-One's name, so.. probably has some deeper meaning," Gabriel notes, sipping from his own cup while Kaa does the piloting. "Likely an old military outpost being converted into a colony.. or just to prove they can do planetary engineering. Worlds like this are common and uncontested."
Thick yellow clouds stream past the transparent section above the bridge, and the light is beginning to fade. It's almost like going deeper underwater instead of inside an atmosphere.
"So probably their god?" Sip. "I thought they might have found some evidence of god-scale warfare. I can't define that, but you know it when you see it. It's inexplicable. Like gods." The young woman turns to regard the window, head tilting to the side. Her hair is once again neat and braided, albiet less so than at the party. Much of her day-to-day clothing choices have changed as well, for the delicate. "I forget who said it, but the Horse always seemed to belong underwater, and I tend to agree. You can almost imagine we're down there now."
"Colony is in range.. hold on.." Katie announces, and brings up a rather murky view in the big open space above the original Tnuctipin control area. It does look like something in the deep ocean, mainly defined by the light it produces. It seems to be primarily a series of concentric rings in a natural (or excavate) crater, with a single central tower rising high from the center to a point, where a cluster of communications dishes fan out. Slightly below that is a bulging area that must be the dock, since there are navigation lights and holographic hand symbols flashing.
"It's kind of pretty in a murky sort of way," Tasha observes. She'd have to muss up her hair a bit, but she might like to take a walk outside in her space suit. It's not everyday she gets to visit a Silent-Ones zionforming project, nor one with quite the same ambiance. The eerie beauty is something she might like to use in a future painting project. "How is the ship handling being in-atmosphere, Kaa?"
"We have not imploded yet!" Kaa whistles. "It is only 12 atmospheres of pressure. C-c-cake-walk!"
"It helps that the hull is a seamless surface," Gabriel notes.
If the Dark Horse is causing any turbulence in the heavy atmosphere, it isn't apparent. Within minutes they're inside the pressure dock, where the air outside is soon at a tolerable temperature and pressure.
"Not bad for a ship designed for zero-to-one atmospheres, but I don't think anyone is surprised the ship is beyond normal spec now." Sip. "Well, I suppose I should get ready to head over and shake hands; that's a signing joke by the way." She quirks her muzzle in to a smile. "Anyone want to come along?"
"I need to supervise the cargo transfer, so I'll be coming," Gabriel says. "And the hull never really felt the pressure because of the yacht-shaped force-field making up our disguise, I imagine."
"So super high tech cheating." Tasha winks at Gabriel, then waves him along as she heads towards the exit at the aft. "Should we suit up, just in case? Did they forward us related safety and dress protocols for disembarkage?"
"If we spontaneously combust we'll know," Gabriel says. "But since this colony must have civilians, it's probably just a bit warmer and dryer than we're used to." They're soon at the faux-airlock outside of the 'real' permeable section of the hull, which is transparent now to prevent uncomfortable questions.
Tasha decides she has entirely too many uncomfortable answers as she heads down and in to the installation. "Well, it'll be nice not to have to ruin my hair and isn't my look just very perfect for my role?" She takes the lead, which is also perfect for the role as the apparent business head of the captain-owner dynamic, to say nothing of a Khattan with her employees. "Who are we to meet, Captain?"
This is answered when they reach the end of the docking bridge and are confronted by an armored Vykarin that takes up most of the passageway. "Rrrrr," the shell-wolf rumbles, and holds out a crystal datapad. Gabriel takes it and.. presses his nose to the glowing circle on it before passing it to Tasha. "Noseprint," he explains.
When on weird alien world ... Tasha takes the pad and presses her nose to the glowing circle. At least it won't ruin her fur highlighting, something new Liza pieced together from Galactic trends and Katie's own silvering.
The datapad flashes various symbols and colors, then settles on 'no contamination' as the Vykarin holds out his paws for the device.
The device is returned and Tasha is glad to not be contaminated, in whatever way the device might have been searching for. "Here you are," she says cheerily.
The Vykarin then starts backing down the corridor since it can't turn around. Eventually it passes a door, and turns slightly to pass the datapad into a slot next to it. It then seems to wait, and wag its tail.. which bangs loudly against the ceramic walls. It isn't long before the door slides open, however, and an electronic voice says, "Please enter." It must be a civilian model, since it isn't a monotone, sounds feminine, and has the word 'please' in its vocabulary.
Tasha knows formal sign, and while there are many words for being polite, most are a stodgy affair more concerned with proper reverance of position, deity, place and event than the gentle politeness favored by Khattans and others, something she suspects the Silent-Ones see as too feminine. Gender equality was never a Star Empire belief, in any of the iterations she knows about. She enters, taking position with her hands behind her back, smiling and looking around animatedly.
The office and it's occupant seem strangely familiar. The woman is probably middle-aged for a Silent-One, and is dressed disturbingly similar to Tasha, save that she has some sort of headpiece that looks like a brimless cap with a lace veil coming off the back that covers most of her long brown hair. Her speaking glove is just that.. a glove with fiber-optic elements instead of the usual gauntlet. There's no apparent speaker, but she does wear a choker with a circular medallion that could be a disguised one. "Welcome to Diving-Sortie Station," she says with the barest flick of a finger gesture - she must have programmed some sort of macros or shorthand. "I am Dock Administrator Pushy-Female" is what comes out next.. which causes her to frown and glare at her glove. With her other hand she signs, "Tear-of-Sun" in correction.
Tasha beams, it helps her resist bursting in to laughter right there and then. She signs rather than speaks, which is the proper thing to do. "I am ship's owner and administrator Also-Pushy-Female," she signs back. She then mock-glares at her hand and resigns, "Winged-Gift. This is my ship's Captain, God-is-My-Strength." As it happened, Gabriel's name translates to a very right and proper Silent-Ones male name. Praising of god yet self-inflated is very Silent-One to Tasha's mind. "He will handle the actual matter of cargo transfer."
The Silent-One looks between the two, and signs, "He is Dirt-Kin," which is probably the closest translation for Terragens. "You are Cat-Made person?"
"Extra-Fancy Cat-Made person," Tasha corrects, wagging her tail a little. "And to confirm, he will handle the transfer. My crew is unusual. I hope it will not cause difficulties?"
"So long as the Shell-Backs do not get into the brandy," the cheetah woman signs. "The military provides our supplies, and so they are military-grade. You are our first luxury shipment since the orbital tether malfunctioned."
"We are glad to bring you relief," Tasha signs, nodding her approval. "We were unaware of the failure, and lament your misfortune. We hope these supplies will bring you joy. Direct unloading instructions to the Captain. If you have further business inquries, direct them to me or to the ship. If there is nothing else, I would like to tour the installation, or if not possible, visit your lounge area."
"Lounge?" Tear-of-Sun signs, but then turns her attention towards Gabriel. After a few gestures over her tablet, she hands it over to the Karnor. "Give this to NAME NOT FOUND outside, and he will take you to the cargo office," she tells him via glove.
"His parents must have been very absent-minded," Gabriel notes as he winks to Tasha. "You'll be alright here with Riddle's long lost sister?" he asks her.
Tasha turns to Gabriel. "I think I know that not-name. I feel like we met before." She rolls her eyes a bit when she thinks the Dock Administraitor isn't looking, then nods to the man. "Oh I think I'll ACTIVITY NOT FOUND." Her smile only grows. "I'll be fine."
And so Gabriel leaves Tasha with the Pushy-Female. "Nobody ever asks for a tour," Tear-of-Sun signs when Tasha turns her way again.
"I am fond of new places," Tasha signs back, head tilting, eyes wide and brows up. "I have never been here before and Star Empire planet forming is unusual. The external asthetic has use in art."
"/It is a prison in the bowels of Hell,/" Tear-of-Sun claims. "/But it is a good place to test things. Follow me." She then turns and heads for a door at the back of the office.
I seem to visit a lot of hell prisons, Tasha muses as she follows along. That, along with dreaming of them, lends her the thought her work makes her seem like some sort of self-appointed pan-dimensional security personnel, a kind of hyperdimensional vigilante. She recalls something like that being in the lists of vids she perused earlier; she'll have to watch it. "Even hell can have charms," she notes.
The room they enter has no other doors, or windows. Once the door behind Tasha closes, a panel lights up with some sort of network. The Silent-One indicates Tasha should hold on to one of the many vertical poles near the walls before she touches a spot on the display.
Knowing better than -- and from hard experience -- to challenge safety indications, Tasha holds on as indicated using her taloned hand to do so. She still needs her right hand if she plans to speak formally, after all. "You have been on this installation a long time?"
The room begins to move.. rapidly. And downward. It's enough to make one's stomach rise, and while diving in the air wouldn't bother Tasha, it's more disconcerting when she can't see the ground or horizon. Tear-of-God doesn't seem to be enjoying it either. "Too long," she signs. "I have missed the birth of my first grand-son," she complains.
"I regret your misfortune; I pray your future is superior." Well-wishing isn't exactly Formal Sign's strong point either, Tasha discovers. It is possible to be elequent about other's misfortunes and wish them well using it, but it's a fine art the hybrid struggles with. Nora, she decides, hadn't quite mastered it either. It's a decidedly masculine and formal language, ill-suited to delicate feelings and certain other sentiment. She thinks it may well be the opposite of the Khattan's own language. "I too have been gone long and may miss the creation of my sister." Creation being the closest and least question inducing way to describe Nora's rebirth.
The elevator begins to decelerate, only to move laterally once it seems to come to a stop. "Most of the base is underground," Tear-of-Sun signs apologetically (it's a specific positioning of the wrist). The sideways journey is shorter than the descent at least, and the cabin comes to a stop soon enough.
"I understand the need. It is not a world for pleasant flights and long fields of flora." Tasha waits a moment to make sure the elevator really is at the destination and not about to move again, looking around a moment, before finally letting go. She walks over to the Administrator, ready to follow.
The door opens on a jungle. Tasha is familiar enough with the Silent-Ones command of light, however, so she realizes most of what she's seeing (probably) isn't real. But it smells like the hunting preserve aboard Orpheus did, and there's a breeze. The nearby vegetation is most likely real. The elevator is set into a cliff-face, with a waterfall nearby. Tear-of-Sun doesn't linger, but strides off down the path.
Tasha can't allow herself to be too impressed; any mezzode as expensive as she is supposed to be should know wonders like these. Still, she is impressed, and managing how she actually feels versus her she should seem to be feeling is all part of the art of her facade. And more so, expressing appreciate is polite. "I see you have made effort to improve the asthetic of this place, it is well done," she signs when she catches up.
"I've never been to the real thing," Tear-of-Sun admits. The path turns, and they're at the edge of a small lake with a natural-wood-looking deck with various cushions and other furniture. A few children are playing until they see Tasha, and go to hide behind what might be a bar - or at least probably serves the same purpose as one. Tear-of-Sun claps her hands together until the children peek back. "This woman has brought you candy from across the stars," she signs tersely. "Show respect." And so the children come out fully and bow their heads. Maybe they think Tasha has the candy on her.
It strikes Tasha maybe she should carry snacks on her person. It might help her make friends with all manner of aliens and children -- and Titanians too! It also strikes ehr she isn't exactly sure what the ettiquette is when interacting with Silent-Ones children, especially in an official capacity. The last time she interacted with a Silent-Ones child that she can remember, it was chasing one away from her mother's tavern during a decidedly different chapter in her life. She looks across the kids for a moment, then lowers herself and smiles. "I do not have the candy with me, but it is being unloaded as we speak. I am happy to bring it to you," she notes, and because it always comes up, "You may pet me if you wish, but do not wrinkle my clothes or greatly disturb my hair." 'Not good with children' is another con she adds to the Formal Sign list.
The children look to Tear-of-Star for permission, and the woman gives a slight nod. So they carefully approach Tasha and pet the part that isn't her clothes or hair - her wings. Maybe they've never felt feathers before. They're very well-behaved at least.
"These are the youngest that can be on their own," Tear-of-Star signs. "The older children are in school at this time of day."
"It is always asked," Tasha notes to Tear-of-Star, giving a well-meaning shrug of her shoulders. She patiently waits as she becomes another exciting new discovery in the lives of young children, having been through much the same on many other occassions. Standing out and being unusual comes with all kinds of attention, not all of which is bad, she's found. And as an explorer herself, she can hardly fault curiosity. "We do not have sentient children on board, however sometimes it feels that way. I am also young, though it is not often assumed. These children are very well behaved and I thank you for retaining all my feathers."
"You have non-sentient children on your ship?" Tear signs, her ears wiggling. The two children finish their exploration and make a sign that Tasha doesn't recognize. Tear waves her hand, and the two run off (Silent-Ones like to run) to the edge of the lake, where the get on their hands and needs to watch the (presumably real) fish - or whatever Zion has that lives in water.
"They are small Dirt-Kin felines; they are not sentient. Instead, they are endearing." 'Endearing' being the best Tasha could think of to replace 'cute', and even that took some mental digging. She stands after the children leave, watching them run off. "For a hell, I think there is a small heaven here." And so she turns back to Tear-of-Sun. "It is in what we can find and make of a place, if we know enough to realize. Yet I understand it can not be enough, as well."
"Children are a blessing from the Star," Tear-of-Sun agrees. "But so is the effort in creating them. There is not much else to do for recreation here. You are also renewing our supply of fertility control medication."
Now there's something Tasha can identify with. Back in what feels life another life she had similiar options for entertainment. "I understand what you say. That can often be the case on the ship, and elsewhere I have been. It is something of which I am familiar." She tries very hard not to grin, but only partially manages it. "It seems I bring candy for adults."
"Mostly for the teenagers," Tear-of-Sun admits. "We need to excavate a sport center for them, but these things take time and we cannot use explosives for it, otherwise they would become more interested in explosions than rubber balls."
Tasha folds her hands infront of herself and inclines her head solemly for a moment, before unfolding them and signing, "That is sadly the case. I can attest to the dangers and interests of explosive devices." And so she reaches over and taps her taloned hand. "I am not easily repaired. You may use me as an object lesson."
"I do not think they realize you are engineered," Tear signs. "I am still hopeful we will uncover ancient ruins which contain a disintegrator beam. Then we can excavate whatever we require. Your Captain is military, but you are not?" It seems an odd turn to take from 'disintegrator beam' to Gabriel's and her backgrounds.
Perhaps she suspects something of my Titanian associations ... It is not an odd connection to make when Titanians are taken in to account, but then nothing Titanians do or are interested in would poorly associate with 'disintegrator beam'. "My Captain is retired. He is also my mate. I previously worked as a student and as a Titan pilot, performing Titan related duties and combat related activities when needed by my patrons, while also learning. A change in the needs and goals of my patrons and interests have required me to change as well, and so now I oversee a mixed crew yacht for public relations, special tasks, and profit purposes." Which is all true enough, Tasha decides. "Silver-Volcano is also my mate; she remains on board. And so it is that part of my crew is also my family."
"Definitely not a military vessel then," Tear signs, and goes to check the 'bar'.. only to come back a moment later looking unsatisfied. "How many crew do you need on it? Military ships always have an excess of manually maintained equipment to make use of their crews."
"The precise requirements of my vessel is not something I should speak of, but I will say that we use an a mix of modern and archaic technology to provide both a place for everyone and a sentimental asthetic that helps in bringing the crew together. As the crew is primarily made of Dirt-Kin, the asthetic is primarily of that style. In addition, we carry a number of specialists and observers, as we are occassionally chartered for scientific, exploratory, passenger, archaeological, and other tasks that require them. A number of them are also my friends, so in that sense they are never unused even if we are not utilizing their specialities," the hybrid woman answers. She makes her way towards the bar, curious what Tear-of-Star is up to.
The bar holds several shelves, most of which contain boxes and jars and what might be cups. Finally Tear brings up a spherical.. sphere.. and unscrews the top. "Someone has not refilled the tea," she signs. "I will check the security feed to see who is shirking their responsibility. What do you and your crew do for entertainment? Games? Dancing?"
"All that you have signed, in addition to local entertainments and social activities. We had just attended a Planter party on Caltrop Station before departing to this location," Tasha answers. She seats herself, seeing Tear-of-Star is busy, smoothing her new clothes down. While her new style requires a great deal more fuss and bother, she thinks the improvement in her personal style and impact are worth it. And besides, she can be tough when she needs to be. Flauting strength is something weaker people do, she realizes, both out of personal weakness as well as social and monetary. This has become apparent as she has moved up the ladder of success. "We also swim, as we have Sentient-Ocean-Mammals on board and their facilities."
"Silent-Ones are not fond of swimming," the cheetah notes, after putting away the apparent kettle. "We sink." From a different path than they took, some more Silent-Ones begin to arrive. The children run to them, so they are probably their parents. It's eerie because of how quiet the group is - but not as eerie to Tasha as Dianus and teeming silent crowds were. Two of the burlier ones are carrying featureless boxes. The all pause to bow their heads politely to Tasha and Tear.
Tasha returns the bows with smiles and polite nods of her head. It feels a bit like being some visiting queen, here in the court of another, yet queens of small countries and small lands. Perhaps that isn't so far from the truth, for either of them. "I am also not well suited to water. My makers did not consider adding fish nor Sentient-Ocean-Mammal to my makeup. Perhaps in the future such a being will be, and they will do well below the waves. But still, I enjoy the coolness and the reminder of wetter worlds." She watches the crowd go about their business, pleased to see civic life remais similiar despite the change in technological levels.
One of the boxes is unfolded into an odd little table, and the other is opened to reveal.. raw meat. Strips of it are placed on the table, where they begin to sizzle.
"The meat is manufactured, but they insist on cooking it like this," Tear signs to Tasha.
One of the treats of visiting fellow predatory species is this: A shared culinary hobby. Tasha's smile turns in to a lopisded grin. "My mate is also fond of this method, though I believe there are very few of his kind that are not. An appreciation for the hunt and fresh meat is something we all have in common." She can't help but sniff, feeling more alert from the smell alone.
One of the women sniffs at the meat, and applies some sort of liquid seasoning. The other one, apparently the mother of the children, adopts an expression that likely means she thinks the first is over-seasoning things.
Tasha stiffles a giggle, which causes her to flick her ears. She covers her muzzle a moment, but then isn't sure if that too is impolite and lowers it. "I feel an intense spirit of competition regarding the preperation of meals," she asides to Tear-of-Sun.
"There is not much else to compete over," Tear-of-Sun signs to Tasha. "Other than mates, but most here are married, and we suppress the urges of the adolescents as much as we dare."
"/I can see how one would be frusterated,/" Tasha points out, loooking around in a slow, lingering sweep. "/Before I was more free, I too felt limited by my circumstance and by how I had been made. I would like to say my freedom came from personal action, and to some degree I think that is the case, but I also found that providence--" Tasha pauses in her signs, wondering if there is a better analogue for luck than the religion-heavy term that she initially chose, and so corrects with, "/--that is, auspicious change of circumstance and fortune played a significant role as well. I still struggle with the question of deserving what I have and the unfairness of our reality./" It's something she'd like to put to whatever god or gods might govern their existence, if she could ever figure out which ones are responsible!
"Our world is as fair as we care to make it," Tears-of-Sun replies. "It is unfair, then we are not trying hard enough. That is part of the reason for this colony. To escape being comfortable, and becoming better through challenge and hardship. And cooking too, apparently. Although there may be a party for the adults once everything is unpacked."
That's about when Tasha hears over her earpiece, "Last of the cargo is unloaded. Next time I need to organize loading it better; had to remove half of the other cargo to get everything. So now I have to put that part back." Gabriel doesn't sound upset at the prospect though. Maybe he's making a game of it with the Vykarins.
"I see, it is a good way to look at things, whatever the truth may be." Tasha perks her ears a moment as she looks at the mysterious stove, then tilts her head. "I am not very good at cooking, but I will volunteer to help if you wish. If you would like better food, I will summon my servan--" Her hands pause at the communication, her gaze becoming distant in that way of people engaging with their visual interface. "I hope you're having fun. I'll be down in the facility meeting people until you're ready. You really should ask me about packing next time, though!" She blows a kiss at the wall, apparently, then turns back to Tear-of-Sun. "I must apologize, but he does not know sign so I must make noises. As I said, I can also summon my servant."
"A servant?" Tear-of-Sun signs. "Our meat comes from a machine, and we can have it prepared by one if needed. Is your robot programmed to be entertaining in the preparation of food?"
"I think she is programmed to be disappointed when I do not live up to her standards, but it it fine because I am glad to try to," Tasha replies. She then holds one hand above the ground, indicating height. With her free hand she notes, "She is not a robot, yet you are not the first to assume so. She is as I am, different. A prey-type animal, sentient. She does my hair, food, and itinerary."
"That must leave you plenty of free time," Tear-of-Sun signs. "Please call her then. The novelty will be refreshing."
"My time is free, but I am always busy." The hybrid woman reaches up and touches her head, then her heart. "I have much to think about here and here." Then her hand drops and she engages her communications. "Liza? It's me. Would you mind terribly coming down to the installation and joining me in the hab area? The Dock Administrator will arrange for someone to help you reach me."
"Do you need fresh clothing or any other supplies?" Liza responds after a moment.
"Be prepared to help cook. There will be some meat; I am sorry for that. Oh, and maybe some wine? Guests should bring a gift, don't you think?" Tasha replies, walking aimlessly as she talks.
"What sort of meat is it?" Liza inquires. "Wine selection depends on knowing if it is from fish, fowl or ruminant."
"It is from a machine," answers the hybrid. She turns, looking over and signing, "/Is the meat approximating a fish, a bird, or a--" She pauses, then signs the word out letter by letter to be safe (and because she's not actually sure what it means), "/ ... 'ruminant'?/"
Tear-of-Sun thinks for a moment, and then signs, "Yes."
And so Tasha turns back to looking at nothing in partocular. "The answer is 'yes', so take yoru best shot. I don't think anyone will complain."
"Ah, the popular grazing flying cow-pig fish," Liza replies "Red wine should be fine."
Tasha snorts a luagh. "You have become sassier since I took you on," she observes. "Oh, and hold on to the pole in the elevator. We're really down here." It's something the young woman tries not to think about. Being a bird, she's not big on being below millions of tons of rock.
Tear-of-Sun waits patiently for Tasha to finish, not really hearing any of the conversation (thank to a sub-vocal pickup in the com gear). "Shall I have them pause their cooking?"
Tasha glances over, tthinks about it, then signs, "That is your decision. Liza is very good, but the stomach does not like to wait."
So Tear-of-Sun interrupts the grilling before things really get started. "Or visitor is having her ship's cook come down," she explains, then starts tapping at her datapad to hopefully arrange for someone to escort Liza.
"I am sorry for making everyone wait," Tasha signs to the crowd, bowing slightly. "I hope her cooking will make up for the delay."
"They aren't starving," Tear-of-Sun claims. "Probably getting pudgy." A pudgy Silent-One would be a rare sight. The signed suggestion also causes some of then to poke or pinch their bellies to see if Tear is being serious or not.
"I see you run a tight station," the ship owner observes, then she wigglers her ears and raises her brows as if to say: look, I've been practicing.
"Vykarin do most of the physically heavy tasks," Tear-of-Sun signs. "And most of those tasks are impossible for a single Silent-One to accomplish. Space is at a premium, so.." She is interrupted by the arrival of the elevator. The Silent-Ones escort is young - probably no older than Tasha - and has a happy grin as he leads out Liza - who is wearing an apron - and Aaron, who is carrying a box with the wine and some other things in. There are several bottles, since Tasha didn't say how many people she would be cooking for.
Tasha claps her hands and steps forward. "Punctual as ever! Welcome, you two. This is Tear-of-Sun, and I haven't yet got a chance to meet the others." She stops and gestures behind her, towards the cooking aparatus. "That's the stove. They were just about to get started, so it should be just about ready to go."
Liza nods and goes to inspect the apparatus and the meat. Aaron goes and sets the box down beside.. which she immediately reaches into and retrieves.. some of Dark Horse's precious supply of bacon.
Seeing what looks like a bar, Aaron brings the wine bottles to it. "So, where is the running track?" he asks. Two of the Silent-Ones are physically restraining the children, who obvious want to investigate the life-sized (to them) stuffed animals.
Tasha's ears inch downward. She didn't mention bacon, but it's too late now. She considers if this is some secret plot by the Lapi to remove the smell from the ship, at least for a time, but this move isn't going to win either of them any favors back on the ship. Well, that's how leadership meet and greets go, I guess! I'll just have to make it up some other way. She beams at the children's antics. "Perhaps if you are good and well behaved, my servants will allow you to touch them," she suggests, hopefully to the approval of the parents.
"We do not have a running track," Tear-of-Sun replies, then repeats it with her speaking glove turned on. This is followed by the pop of a cork as Aaron finds the picnic glasses and opens the wine. "Then you must have a ring-shaped corridor at least. If you don't run, how do you keep from getting pudgy?" he asks.
"They can pet me after I have the meat cooking," Liza offers as she wraps the mysterious machine meat with precious bacon.
"I keep Aaron from getting pudgy by bringing him to gatherings. He asks embarassing questions, and then gets chased by the locals. It's very amusing," Tasha notes, voice cheery and face all smiles. It's just like Aaron has never seen her before, made all the more amusing because it was usually her that said the wrong thing and got in to trouble. That was a long time ago, or at least so it feels to the young woman.
"I like to run, and Sav.. Silent-Ones are fun to race," Aaron claims, not bringing up Tasha's past misadventures at all! "Especially after they've had a big meal, or have been drinking, or spent all night dancing around a bonfire."
He also starts handing out cups of wine, even offering one to Tasha.
Tasha accepts the cup with grace. She then looks around, finds a seat, and settles herself down with a smooth of the skirt. "They're very popular at parties and with children," she asides to Tear-of-Star. Beyond that she isn't sure what else to say, finding she's content just to say nothing and watch the others go about their lives. This homey gathering seems like the lull she needed to quiet her thoughts. Their last mission was rough, and her conversation with Samael nearly as much. Their passengers are an unknown problem, possibly waiting to happen. Sometimes ordinary life strikes her as refreshing.
The other Silent-Ones seem to loosen up a bit - either from the wine or the smell of bacon, and introduce themselves to Tasha. They're mostly engineers or chemists - and one of the men is a schoolteacher, who actually teaches the two children (they are not his children however). There are only a handful of students in the population though, since it's problematical to increase their numbers without expanding the living space. But they have the capacity to support a larger population at least, if not the room.
And so Tasha makes introductions, shares brief stories, and answers questions. It's not her hardest interpersonal work by far, but she finds it rewarding as well as relaxing. After dealing with so many high-power individuals, not to mention hyper-powered beings, momenst like this can help her ground herself and remind her that, yes, normal life does still exist and keep going no matter how many gods she's met that week.
The meat is done soon enough - Liza knows carnivores like a lot of pink in it. There are other goodies in the box they brought, including some cheeses - not something many feline types like, but the children appreciated it. There are skewers that hold the meat and bacon together, rather than 'gluing' them together with something Jonas called 'meat glue', which he keeps in his surgical supplies but that also works for fusing meats together for cooking.
In some ways the get together makes Tasha feel out of place. She has somehow reached a level of success where this sort of thing isn't exactly what she expects, nor quite feeliks like she belongs in. Rather than being a sense of superiority, it's more a feeling of how she places in affairs and the sort of business she does. The mismatch only helps her feel more at ease, allowing her to exist in a space she might otherwise not. Travel has always allowed her to exist in unusual spaces, be they eye opening new horizons, or new faces to every day life. "Having fun?" She asks Aaron when he walks by. She has her drink in one hand, free hand gently petting the head of a child who has wandered near to her and Tear-of-Sun.
"They need a way to run down here," Aaron notes. "And not on treadmills. Silent-Ones need to run down prey. Plus I like running from them. I didn't used to, but now that it's for fun I enjoy it."
He also adds, in Olympian, "Did you want to ride one of the Vykarin?"
"These days I run away from things by enjoying myself at parties wearing fancy clothes. I think it's more productive." Tasha sips, then looks down and ruffles up the child's mane. She's had to resist seeing if they like their ears rubbed like her two ships' cats, unsure if that would be some sort of faux pas, but it is really tempting. Of course if it worked, she'd probably want one, and that definitely isn't an urge she needs to follow. She doesn't respond, but does answer in her rather rusty and never-that-practiced own Olympian, "I shouldn't. More so, I have to keep appearances in mind. My keeping my role straight keeps us safer."
"We need to find a Vykarin world," Aaron says in his more fluent Olympian. "I don't think the Silent-Ones ride them. They're missing out. On sore butts mostly, but it's still fun."
Liza also comes over, after packing her apron into the box (well, folding it up neatly and placing it inside). "How do you like the bacon-wrap?" she asks Tasha. "I could make kabobs one night if the crew is interested."
"There are ways things are done out here. They are Servant-Slaves, and the Cats are a society very focused on proper behavior," Tasha explains, smiling down at the cub as if all were well. "That doesn't mean we can't have fun, we just should mind ourselves. They will not easily forgive us for being a lie, not after what happened." She looks up, then looks to the three cleaned kabab sticks beside her. Switching to Standard, she replies, "I think they were very good. I know Shojo and Lacci will appreciate not having to beak their way through another steak, or as Lacci calls them, the over-complicated layered things."
"I thought that was her term for sandwiches," Liza admits. "I'll need to sacrifice one or two of your steaks for the meal, however. And they come with vegetables between the meat cubes. Or all vegetables for me, Aaron and Jonas. Apparently he is a part-time vegetarian."
"I meant the sandwiches," Tasha confirms, waggling her class Liza-ward. "And sacrifice away. I'll have to seem giving after allowing some of the bacon off the ship. And part-time? Why only part? Or is it like I used to part-time not drink?"
"He explained it as a calorie-density equation," Liza says. "When Belters are out prospecting, they have to pack food that is calorie dense, so they actually have rich foods and meat. But when in-station, they tend towards vegetarian fare because vegetables aren't efficient for their single-ship runs."
"Even Dr. Sen will occasionally have a vegetarian meal.. usually when Jonas has prepared or requested one as well," the Lapi continues. "Maybe it's a human thing."
"Humans do like to Human together, I've noticed." Tasha nods. It really does seem that way. She still hasn't figured out the quirky species that -- to her eternal surprise -- created the Karnor species and in a roundabout way also herself. Who could have seen that coming? "I did once turn down a bit breakfast to have what Katie was having, because I am a good girlfriend, but they made me eat it the next time I was over."
"I haven't seen her exercise, but she must," Liza notes. "I often see Mr. Invention and wonder if she exercises because he will give her a disappointed look if she doesn't." There's no self-consciousness in that comment either, even though the Lapi is guilty of giving Tasha disappointed looks if she thinks the hybrid isn't taking care of herself more. "Like with the Silent-Ones here, some environments require extra effort to stay fit."
"There isn't room on the ship to have Tasha chase after Katherine to stay in shape," Aaron notes. "I should make Hakeber exercise more though.."
"I really should think about that myself. I'm not exactly doing heavy labor and fighting like I used to. Not even flying. Perhaps I can arrange something with Mel, I should make sure I keep up on my dueling skills," Tasha notes, head tilting. She hasn't needed to use the Melchior much lately, but she shouldn't be rusty, and she can manually pilot with resistance if needed.
"Our next stop is supposed to be safe to walk outdoors in," Aaron says. "Hazy Potato or something."
"Hazophatatus," Liza corrects.
"What do you know about it? Besides that," Tasha asks, going for a sip and then realizing she's quite done with her allotment -- and for the night. It wouldn't help her any to get drunk infront of Silent-Ones, who are generally less inclined to thatsort of thing. Besides that, she'd miss the peace if she did.
"It's another 'shake and bake' colony world, I believe Dr. Sen described it as," Liza says. This causes Tear-of-Sun to let out a sudden snort and much ear waggling.
Tasha snorts a laugh as well. She knows just enough about Terrans and their sayings to get the gist of what Yue means, which makes it all the more amusing as she puts two and two together to get the wit behind the metaphor. "Well, at least it sounds more welcoming than a world full of dire ruins and artificial everything," she notes.
"So hot with earthquakes?" Aaron guesses. Liza just shrugs.
"I think 'pre-fab' is the idea." Tasha gives the child beside her a little nudge back towards her parents, or at least whom she thinks are her parents, and looks about. "Well, Gabriel should be almost done, and it wouldn't do to remain overlong and keep our passengers waiting. We should get ready to return."
"Should we leave the unopened wine?" Aaron asks. "We weren't sure how much to bring."
For the answer to this, Tasha turns to Tear-of-Star. It's her decision to make as one of the outpost's leaders, either no to maintain order or yes to win favors. She knows enough about politics to hand off the benefits. It's not necessary, and it's not even any special advantage for Tasha and ehr crew, but she thinks it's a nice gesture and good practice.
"If you can spare them," the administrator replies. "There is enough to let every adult have a small cup."
"Oh, why not? It's not often I get to just sit and relax and have a normal time of things. They're all yours." Tasha waves to the box, nodding. She then rises to her feet, placing her cup aside. "And thank you Administraitor for allowing us to have this glimpse in to your daily life."
Aaron fetches the rest of the bottles from the box to place on the bar, then picks up the box (it still has the apron and other cooking supplies Liza brought, along with the rest of the bacon - the Lapis didn't even entertain the notion of asking Tasha if that should be left behind).
Tasha picks up ... herself, really. It seems her days of moving things may well truly be over. "Will you show us out then, Tear-of-Sun?"
The woman stands as well, and signs, "I hope we can do business again in the future" before leading the way to the elevator.
The Dark Horse leaves Divine-Sortie Station as silently as it arrived, and soon the blackness of space is replaced with the shimmery faux-liquid look of the Maelstrom as they head for their next destination. Gabriel is in need of a shower, but he does smell nice after exerting himself. It's enough of an effect that Aaron has to corral Hakeber, and tell her, "You need to exercise more. I think we should go see Jonas about setting something up.." Liza heads for the kitchen, either to take stock, plan dinner or update the inventory.
"Somebody had fun playing with the Vykarins," Tasha notes as she siddles up beside Gabriel, bumping her hip against his leg. She follows him where everit is he seems to be heading, realizing she really is never quite sure what to do returning to the ship, as her old life had always had direction aboard ship. These days she's filled her spare time with study, research, 'research' (in the form of vids), and other preperation and training, when she isn't mreley entertaining herself. "Well, what did you think of this job?"
"I hope the other stops are more scenic," Gabriel notes, and grins. "A world shrouded in this thick, poisonous haze isn't exactly romantic."
"Yeah, I prefer my romantic thick, poisonous haze to at least come from a cigarillo," Tasha agrees, then she reaches over and grabs on to Gabriel's arm, which she hugs on to. "At least the children were cute and I could relate a little to Tear-of-Sun, even if she was older. The next world should be a proper settlement, though Liza didn't say if it was blue skies and bluer oceans, or a fab hut on a pinnacle above a river of lava."
Gabriel can't help but flex his bicep under Tasha's grip. "It's a marginal colony, like this one was. That means minimal outside support and an environment that's less-than-ideal. But something a private group could afford. It's why they need small shippers like us," he notes as they reach the elevator.
Tasha makes a fuss over the muscle, running her hand over and murmuring appreciation despite being nearly as strong herself. She tries to downplay her own physicality these days, anyway, and she enjoys stroking Gabriel's ... ego. "Are they with a real government, or truly independent?"
"Independent," Gabriel says as they get in. "There's usually some other profit-related reason for the colony, but sometimes it's just a bunch of families pooling everything they have. That's how Fafnir was settled." The door opens on the lounge, and the sound of the piano fills their ears.
"Did my desiring a piano make one suddenly exist somehow?" It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen to Tasha, though she is only joking. Mostly. She perks her ears and leans over to look. "Maybe the Niss figured out how to approximate one? Oh, or Sam can turn in to a deeemon piiiaaanooo."
The latter might be closer to truth than Tasha realizes, because Sam is the one playing the glossy black piano. Katie is also there, but sitting on the couch. The one dressed in a slinky, sparkly black dress and draping across the top of the piano is none other than Egypt Inconspicuous. And she as a decent singing voice.. even if the lyrics seem a bit disturbing.
"/Ever on and on I continue circling
With nothing but my hate in a carousel of agony
Till slowly I forget and my heart starts vanishing
And suddenly I see that I can't break free--I'm
Slipping through the cracks of a dark eternity
With nothing but my pain and the paralyzing agony
To tell me who I am, who I was
Uncertainty enveloping my mind
Till I can't break free, and
Maybe it's a dream; maybe nothing else is real
But it wouldn't mean a thing if I told you how I feel
So I'm tired of all the pain, of the misery inside
And I wish that I could live feeling nothing but the night
You can tell me what to say; you can tell me where to go
But I doubt that I would care, and my heart would never know
If I make another move there'll be no more turning back
Because everything will change, and it all will fade to black/"
Tasha untangles her arm to slowly applaud, looking from Sam, to Egypt, to Katie, and finally right back to Egypt. "Very nice. So, am I talking to your singing incarnation, then? And does it come with that dress?"
"The Terrans say that 'clothes make the man'," Egypt notes as she slides off the piano. "And apparently I can sing in a language that is not my native tongue. Although Eeee singing is generally not that melodias. It isn't easy hitting the lower registers. But your friend Katherine inspired me, after hearing her sing at the party."
"If there's one thing I can say about Katie, it's that she's inspiring," the hybrid agrees. She gives Gabriel a kiss, then scootches away from him to walk over and drop on the couch besides her other significant other. Katherine promptly gets fluttered puppy eyes, then a wink, before Tasha returns her attention to Egypt. "Then I'm talking to the ... What did you call it? Prime self?"
"Your breath smells suspiciously of bacon," Katie notes.
"Ah, there's the question. I could just be having a Socialite flashback, or one of the others. The transitions are never exactly smooth when coming down from a trip," the Eeee claims, gives Sam a kiss on the cheek before slinking over to.. the bar.
"I'll be using the shower if anyone needs me," Gabriel notes with a smirk, heads for the living area.
"Bacon for the good cause of public relations and meeting friendly new people. I was obligated to eat bacon," Tasha notes, eyes widening. "It would have been rude not to!" She wiggles her fingers in a wave after Gabriel. She had planned to follow him, but now she has this sort of thing to manage and she'll just have to manage. It helps a great deal Katherine is present. "If it's so unpleasant, than why do it? And why are you doing it for this trip? It seems like something a spy or agent would need, and you're certainly well equiped for this task."
"Well.. I don't know," Egypt reiterates. "So I suppose that would be useful when faced with, say.. psychics. It wouldn't hold up to real interrogation though. Or, more likely, I'm only hiding things from myself in the ultimate form of self-delusion. Or therapy. That song feels genuine to me on some level."
"You seem very conflicted, or at least appear to be so. Well, whatever. It's your secret to carry, so long as it doesn't interfere with my ship or endanger my crew. Or, I guess, destroy worlds full of innocent people or that sort of thing." The hybrid turns to Samael and tilts her head. "We frown on that sort of thing here, in case you wondered."
"Speaking from experience?" the Eeee asks, casting a sideways glance at Tasha. "But... I don't intend to leave the ship until we reach Phryxus." She then starts rummaging through the bar.
While Egypt is looking elsewhere, Sam holds up his hands.. and stills plays the piano. It would explain how he could play so smoothly with one hand having one fewer fingers than the other.
Tasha contentedly ignores the suspicious look, she too can be infuriatingly confusing and unhelpful. Instead she leans back, the siddles along until she's leaning back against Katie. "The mild stuff is at chest high, the really strong stuff is at the bottom and the bottles that just look really pretty are up top," she notes, recognzing the sound of jostling bottles anywhere. When Sam raises his hand, she claps lightly, as if it were an amusing street performance.
"I'm jealous of Sam now," Katie remarks, but doesn't elaborate. Eeee have very good hearing after all, so she can't say that she wouldn't mind being able to manifest musical instruments. The clinking stops, and the sounds of mixing follow. Egypt is a mixed drink girl.. at least in this persona.. it seems. She does mix enough for everyone though, and even brings it over on the silver serving platter. "I don't know if I'm a good mixologist or just made this up," she admits.
"You seem like a bit of a mixed drink yourself, Miss Inconspicuous. You win points with me by making enough for everyone, though. Thank you." Tasha accepts her own, always happy for new adventures in the alcoholic arts. "So, I was thinking of redecorating in here with more of an old Terran design to the furniture and bar, keep the view in to the outside, and add more comfortable couches and tables."
"It is poor manners to not be generous with someone else's liquor," Egypt says as she settles down on a different part of the curving couch. "This setting does invoke a certain understated luxury though. Do you entertain many guests?"
"I like to think I entertain everyone," Tasha replies, smiling in amusement at her own little joke. She then gives a little shrug, head tilting, self sprawling back against Katherine. "I do believe you're the first actual guest who is strictly a passenger and not a semi-permanenet resident or crew member, so not many. although I do think that may come to pass sooner or later. We're polishing things up as we go, seeing how we like it."
"And you'll be taking on the Seeder expedition to their little dark patch of sky, won't you?" Egypt asks as she sips. She considers the taste, and decides she likes it well enough. "I'm not sure how much a bunch of astronomers and scientists will appreciate this setting, I admit."
Tasha inclines her head, hardly surprised the Eeee overheard her conversation with the Seeders. "Well it's hardly a secret we will. They've been quite open about it, and it was discussed in open at the ball as well." She then looks about, as if really noticing the room for the first time. "Well, at least it's a nice place to take a nap if the scholars appreciate talking more than piano, drinking, and Katie." And so she looks up. "Which is insane, you know."
"Well, an astronomer leaving to go into unknown space probably is insane," Egypt says. "Eeee shun the void of flat space. Hyperspace makes Celestial uncomfortable, but Eeee find that galactic halo region just as disturbing."
"I suppose it's like crossing the desert," Katie offers.
"The greatest desert of all, unless you count the expanses between universes, or those strange places so rumored to dwell beyond the depths of D-Space," the youngest remarks, head tilting in thought. "If it's disturbing, then have many Eeee ventured there in the past? Or is it just the idea of it?"
"There's never been a reason to, except to chase after phantoms," Egypt claims. "All of the interesting stuff is on the galactic plane, after all. It's more that our ships don't like it. It makes them a bit buggy."
"No mass to detect," Katie says, and looks to Tasha. "I suppose it would be easy to get lost without a beacon of some sort."
"Some claim that hyperspace navigation becomes unpredictable," Egypt nods, and nods to Katie.
Tasha nods slowly. "I imagine a ship whose very senses extend in to space and the realms beyond would find a place devoid of sensory returns very unsettling. Like flying in the dark, without sound or touch to guide you. The only beacon would be the light of the galactic spiral, and its distant mass," she considers. She taps her muzzle. "But other forms of travel should be improved, what with less mass to interfere with spacial warping. Less anything."
"Maybe," Egypt says. "I can't imagine Celestials going out there though. There could be a lot of dark matter in the halo too, and that could effect their overspace drives."
"That's true. It really does seem like the realm of monsters and strange demons, a black desert of nothing but dream," Tasha agrees, head cocking the other way. "Well! It should be very interesting, anyway. I for one am curious what's up there. It does seem the place to put a Galactic tool shed, as it were, off where it won't be a bother -- or be bothered. Employees only."
"A tool shed.. I think I understand that," Egypt says. She finishes her drink, and hands the glass to Sam as she gets up. "I should retire again, in case I suddenly find myself embarrassed by this dress. Thank you for letting me borrow your lounge, Miss Aldara.. and Miss Vesuvius."
"I do pick up all the strangest Terra phrases. I'm sure you'll find them very charming in time, as I do." Tasha pats Katie's knee, as if to say she, too, is very charming. "And the dress is very charming too, Miss Inconspicous, you shouldn't be embarassed by it. And as I said, you're free to use the lounge as you like, it is open to all guests and crew members. Have a good evening."