Professor Stanislav's expedition group isn't too unwieldy. He brings along two associates, a Belter woman named Hera Sophis, a graduate student studying exotic forms of matter and energy and close to Tasha and Hakeber's age, and a Pan named Modo who is a middle-aged Zero-G engineer (and who also seems to be in charge of handling their hyperspace detection equipment).
Along with the Terrans is Dr. Karaktinio the Eeee exo-biologist and his associate Dr. Soshelle, an Eeee hyperspace specialist. The two solo members are Dr. Amuntaton and a bulky Naga introduced as Scholar Heth's'shis'less - who goes by 'Scholar Shiftless' for those who don't want to run out of spit, and also because he has a dislike of overspace travel - an oddity for a Celestial, since the serpents generally prefer it to hyperspace.
They all come with considerable amounts of gear and other supplies, including an exo-suit that is like a miniature version of the Grunt, save that it has manipulators for feet as well. All of it assembled for inspection on the docking platform claimed by Dark Horse.
Tasha dressed her professional best for this gathering, knowing it to be Dark Horse Enterprizes first major undertaking and also their first major work on behalf of the Seeders. Until now, the business had been running smaller errands and private missions disguised as small errands, the former largely to make shekels, and the latter to continue their overall work. It's all been fairly low key, but this time will be different. Certainly it's not a Civilization-spanning event, but it's major enough -- and personally significant enough for the organizations involved -- to merit a certain degree of pomp. Tasha has everything to be proud of today, and she doesn't mind people seeing it.
On the other hand, her role is largely ancillary (at best) for general ship operations, so meeting-and-greeting as well as being seen is her major role today. She stands beside Gabriel, smiling, wearing her nicer business attire and trying her best to look welcoming and hopeful. "Welcome to the Dark Horse, everyone. Or should I say, the pre-boarding inspection, berthing arrangement, and loading of the Dark Horse. As you'd expect, we'll now go over your equipment and pack it up for the flight. This is your absolute last chance to make sure you have everything -- and everyone! -- without inconviencing the mission. And let me say again, welcome and thank you for chosing us."
Lacci is the one doing the inspecting, since she's most familiar with Galactic tech, and Jonas is also double-checking with everyone about allergies, special medical or dietary needs, and generally being doctorly. Shojo stands ready to help carry stuff (it wouldn't do for Tasha to do it), and even Kaa is out, being the pilot and all. He hasn't even flirted or sonar pinged the women yet. There's an additional person on the dock as well: Darksight, who escorted the Eeee and also helped with the transfer of the 'baby' hypership to Dark Horse, where the ventral bay had been set up for her - including the 'nipple'.
Dr. Stanislav seems excited, apparently being the least experienced with long space journeys, while Shiftless seems barely awake. Modo is sucking on what must be some Galactic version of a cigar - it's smokeless, but the metallic tube certainly looks like a cigar.
Having done her welcoming speech, Tasha wanders among the crew in order to look interested until she begins to get that 'more present than helpful' itch, and so gets out of everyone's way. This leaves her on the outside of the proceedings for the moment, but she stands nearby (and near Darksight) to look both available and supervisorly. "A bit exciting, don't you think, sir?" She asks the far traveler nearby, not having spoken to him in some time and all the standing around making her antsy. She's quite used to labor during moments like this, and it tugs at her restraint.
"Hopefully not too exciting," Darklight replies. "The Void pulls at the mind to fill it."
"How very ominous. Well, I try to keep my mind as empty as possible, to deny it." Tasha taps her head and winks, aware of her self-deprecating humor. "I just hope the others do so well. And speaking of the others, how's the little one?"
"Anxious," Darksight says. "First time away from mother, but she did alright on the transit. Hardly ever tried to run off to see something, but that could be nerves. A trip to flat-space, with nothing more interesting than your ship will help her to learn focus."
"Well, my ship is very interesting and I dare say so is its crew. Hopefully not too distracting, though, we need her to focus for our sake, as well. I plan to stop by and visit her, maybe sing? Do you think that will help?" For Tasha, it means two ships to tend to, which she hopes doens't lead to any sort of jealousy -- she had quite enough of that with Harmonia as well as with the Magi. She does wonder what Tatha-hem will think of the little ship and all the newcomers, and if Sam still has his concerns about a Power lingering around. "Well, I've arranged for a nice change to our lounge for the bipedal and unipedal visitors, so they should be as comfortable as I can make them."
"It's important to keep the flow of mucous to a minimum in artificial gravity environments, I'm told," Darksight says, and grins to Tasha. "I assume you were well stocked on whatever you need for entertainment and relaxation, given the length of the voyage and inability to simply pull into a friendly port."
"Aside from the usual wine and food, we picked up a host of quality hologames, entertainment packages, and have arranged for exercise areas in the cargo bay to let people stretch their legs if not their wings. Mission planning and access to ships' sensors is avilable from their quarters as well as the C&C section of the bridge. In addition, Katherine Vesuvius was a professional entertainer and will be providing song and music, and we have a real piano." Tasha beams. It was a lot of work, but she, Mr. I, Katie, Liza, Miss N., Gabriel and even some of the crew contributed to try and make sure avalable supplies were sufficent beyond basic staples. "I think it will be as pleasant as it can be. We're not a large vessel, after all."
"Yes still capable of making such a long journey," Darksight points out. "The Khattans are impressive builders. And if you sing to the baby girl, she will likely enjoy it on some level. For all that I've traveled with the hyperships, I'm never entirely certain if they can actual hear, or use some other sense."
"Sometimes just the knowledge you're trying is enough, no matter how different you are. Caring that someone else exists is at least generally universal." Tasha smiles, the specifics may be complicated, but she at least likes the sentiment. As for how impressive their ship is, she keeps that to herself.
"Do try to learn her moods though," the Eeee explore advises. "Whatever her senses may be, they can sense anomalies that may not show on a mass detector until it is too late."
Tasha purses her muzzle at that. She'll have to keep a live feed on the baby, just to be safe. After all she's seen, she's not about to ignore a unusual being's special senses. "I'll keep that in mind," said with all seriousness. She nods slowly, but then looks up. "Oh. It looks like Lacci and Jonas are done. I'll need to show people to their quarters. Take care, Darksight?"
The Eeee bows, and says, "I am always careful. If you meet any gods, I hope they are ones you wish to meet."
"Eeeh, who knows with gods, eh?" Tasha sucks in a breath and looks heavenwards. Gods. Now there's a group of being with special powers you ought to listen to, even if how to listen is the real trick. She shakes her head, then inclines it to the man before heading off.
"Alright! Lets get you all situated. We've taken your needs in to account and I think you'll like your quarters. This way, if you please," he can hear her say as she leads the expeditioners on to the ship.
The Dark Horse is underway almost immediately after things are stowed and sleeping arrangements assigned. Modo is impressed by the sight of Melchior and the 'antique' shuttles, but gravitates to the Grunt suit, offering to 'look it over' to see what might still need repair on it. The less mechanically oriented (don't call Modo a 'grease monkey', Hera warns, but it's one of those references that Tasha doesn't quite get) eventually gather in the lounge - the big Naga and Sam being the exceptions. The demon has been stand-offish so far, and has kept his 'mezzode' form to match Tasha still - and perhaps to make her asymmetrical hands look deliberate.
Tasha follows the majority of the newcomers to the lounge. While she might be more at home in the cargo bay, dealing with the needs of their passengers if a area of growing expertise for her, and a challenge she's expected to take on regardless.
The Horseplay Lounge, a name Gabriel suggested and Tasha agreed upon only after having had that bitter of Terran culture explained to her, has been remodeled reminiscent of the hotel Tasha stayed at during her time in Titania. She had Liza's help, of course, the Lapi assistant having much more experience with the building than Tasha herself. Much of the furniture retains the style, though there's faux-metal in brass for the seatung fixtures (including the rails on the ceiling for the Eeee), faux-wood (though like the metal, and indeed all of the ship's interior, it's faux-matter) paneling everywhere, and comfortable leather and felt-style seating in complimentary hues. The walls continue to show a view of the outside space, however Tasha has arranged for the image to change over time to avoid projecting nothing but oppressive blackness. A series of holidays and seasons will cycle through the Lounge, drawn from the cultural background of the combined crew and passengers, as well as fanciful locations (a
"And as you see, we really did think ahead. I won't reveal all the surprises of course, but you can expect things will stay interesting," she tells the assembled.
nd one actually real one -- a model of Sinai from a sky island) to keep things interesting and cozy. There's also spirits, music, and games to play should anyone desire them.
"This is my first time on a long voyage where I wasn't alone," Hera notes. "I too am unused to such an wealth of companions," Amuntaton admits. The Eeee claim to have been on a few deep-space missions together - and it isn't clear if they mean deep space, or deep space. Professor Stanislav is still overly excited. "We're going where nobody has been .. that we know of," he keeps says. Liza is serving drinks, and Aaron mans the bar (it wouldn't do to trust Hakeber with all the booze). The Karnor scholar is also excited - but she tends to 'catch' excitement from other easily. Katie is tickling the keys of the piano to set a relaxed mood, and Lacci is looking a bit out of sorts: it's her first time in her 'official' formal Dark Horse uniform, and she's feeling conspicuous. Dr. Sen is perched on the arm of a chair, probably to make herself seem taller, or because she doesn't want to sit in someone's lap.
Tasha sits central with the others generally around her. It's where she should be as the owner and (by official record) avatar of the Khattan powers that supposedly back the operation of the ship. It makes her feel simultaneously glutted for attention (which she likes) and a bit like a piece of art or a impressive fixture (which she's still learning to manage). "I agree, Doctor, it is very exciting. We're gratified to have been chosen for such a journey, and I for one am looking forward to seeing what's 'up' there. And please, in the future, if any of you would like to speak to me -- or even any of my crew so long as it doesn't disrupt their duties -- you're welcome to make arrangements. Gabriel and I are, of course, open to dining."
"Is there a Captain's Mess then?" Stanislav asks. He's apparently traveled on higher-end ships. The others don't seem to grasp what he's talking about.
Aaron has to turn away and pretend to do something at the back of the bar, lest he say something embarrassing.
"Unfortunately we are as much a ulitarian vessel as we area a transport. There is room for dining within the Owner's Lounge, but it's not a dedicated space. After all, the space that--" Tasha misses a beat at Aaron's reaction, shooting him the briefest of looks at just what -- or whom -- might be the Captain's Mess before resuming like nothing happened, "--would have occupied is providing you with more spacecious quarters."
"I doubt we will all be eating on the same schedule," Hera points out. "That's just not how it's done on working ships this size. So if we do want to eat together, it's best to plan for it in advance."
"I agree, that's why we have an open schedual you may access from your quarters, personal units, or from any authorized console. The crew has their own shifts as you'll see, and my own hours depend on what's in store for me that day and my preferences. The Captain has leeway as well, but as a ex-military man he likes to keep a sharp schedual. You'll also note we have passengers who are not listed as crew; they're welcome to keep their own scheduals." Tasha nods to Liza, which at this point means 'it's time for the journey's beginning drinks'; Tasha thought it was a good idea to celebrate the start to begin on a high note. "You'll also have a brief on off limits areas, meal options, and how to go about any special needs or medical requests."
Liza returns to the bar, and there's a loud 'pop' as the expensive bottle of 'sparkling wine' that isn't some sort of cider and that Tasha wouldn't have dreamed of tasting only a year ago is uncorked. Liza then comes around with a platter covered in tall slender glasses (that might even be real, fragile glass) to serve the guests, non-crew 'researchers' and anyone else who won't be put off by bubbles.
Tasha smiles at Liza, then looks around as people recieve their glasses. Once she's certain everyone has theirs who wants one, she nods her head. "Well then, I think this is a generally known tradition if not universal, a toast. A toast to our good fortune, to new friends, and to the discoveries yet to be made among the Halo." She raises her glass.
"Cheers!" "Huzzah!" and less familiar, alien words celebrate the raising of glasses, followed by the sipping of the bubbly wine. Even Lacci and Amuntaton manage it without having to upend the contents into their gullets - it takes skill to sip with a beak.
And muzzles are no easy going, either. It took Tasha months tolearn to sip, and over a year to do it well. The glass comes down, and so Tasha waves her free hand expansively. "Well then, let me officially say, welcome aboard the Dark Horse. You are now free to remain here, or free to wander about. I'll remain here a while, and if you have requests don't hesitate to ask Katie to play something -- or to sing." She settles back, relaxing, and by doing so she's been told she's signaling everyone around her they may as well.
The Eeee seem to be the most relaxed (and along with the humans, have the least issues using the champagne flutes) and eager to have Katie play or sing something: live performance (along with live everything else) is a big Confederate tradition. It's Hera that seems the most shocked by it, and even Lacci has gotten somewhat used to it. While Katie is the product of what was essentially a military propaganda program, the Galactic Vartans (and even the Primus ones) really don't seem to have specialists in the fields of entertainment, at least not in the starfaring Clans. Tasha knows they have artists on the actual Vartan worlds.
And Tasha is a bit of an artist herself, if only a bit. She hasn't had time to paint lately, having decided she'll try and make up for it on the voyage when duties and distractions run low or else when she needs some quiet time to herself. As for the party, she remains where she had been sitting, not want to seem like a roaming force of shipboard authority and too-aggressive greetings by encraoching as the others meet and greet. If anyone wants to talk to her, they know where she is. And where she is, she settles back and listens to Katie sing -- a special treat that means something special to her.
It then occurs to Tasha she may well have forgotten someone. It may be intentional on his part, but she decides she should show the effort. "Liza, fetch me another glass, will you? Mr. Modo won't have had his, I think he's still in the hangar."
"Right away," Liza says, and soon has a fresh flute for Tasha.
Tasha takes the new one and her own, and stands. "Gabriel, would you mind standing in for me? We can't have Mr. Modo mising out on his drink, after all."
"I can stand in for two of you," Gabriel promises.
"Hmp," goes Tasha, who hip-nudges the man as she passes. She'd tug his tail, but her hands are full. "Don't eat all my hour'derves, now!"
It's a short trip out, down, and further back before she's in the cargo bay. "Mr. Modo..?"
"Don't you have any proper wrenches?" the ape complains, and Tasha sees a perfectly good wrench waving around between the legs of the Grunt suit. Sam is nearby, perched on Melchior's bent knee.
"I'm sorry, sir. If you'd like to rebook, I'm sure we can find you a repair and service craft inbound for the Galactic Halo," Tasha replies, over-emphasizes her faux-Khattan charm and grinning. "I'll assume then you won't be wanting this glass of expensive sparkling wine I brought down for you because I didn't wish you to miss the toast."
"Is it whole wheat toast?" the man asks, his oddly bare-but-hairy face appearing from between the Grunt's legs. "With banana butter?"
"It's the Terran tradition kind with fizzy drinks." Tasha waggles the drink towards the man, stepping closer.
With a bizarre economy of motion the engineer extracts himself, and passes his tools to one of his feet in order to free a hand for the glass, which he sniffs suspiciously. "Seems a bit dainty," he notes. "Like the tools. A proper wrench is heavy enough to make a Titanian swoon, you know."
"So I've heard." Tasha's grin becomes rather lopsided. She briefly considers asking Sam to fetch her halitool, but decides that might tip her hand a little too much, and besides that Sam has been acting more aloof than usual. "Well, we have to balance daintiness with efficency around here. It's not a big ship, but we do have guests to entertain and space to use wastefully."
The Pan is not as practiced at sipping. Being a spacer, he's probably used to straws and squeeze-bulbs. "How do you not sneeze while drinking this? Must be fancy, since I think it needs some guava juice added. Maybe some mango. I know they mix orange juice with this stuff normally, but that follows special rules about days and times and other things that only matter if you're a Flatlander."
"I take exception to that, I spend quite enough time in space as it is, and I have to know those -- or more accurately have someone else know them and then tell me -- because it's one of the many tedious and necessary elements of my position." Tasha shrugs; what can you do. She then throws her drink back and scratches her nose. "Not that I don't enjoy the drinks and the company. How's the Grunt looking?"
"It's more of a Groan at this point," the man notes. "Vartans don't do well with sensitive bits, and Khattans don't do well with tough bits, so this thing is half-assed no matter which end you're coming from. I suggest a lot of heavy welding.."
Tasha nods slowly, looking serious. "Well it did have a mountain of junk dumped on it, and who knows how long it was there. Don't answer that; I don't want to have to confirm the records. Well, I can have Lacci help you if you like, she's been handling the maintenance along side myself, and she's the primary pilot. I pilot the big guy," she thumbs over towards the Melchior, " ... over there. Not Sam, the Titan."
"That's what that thing is?" Modo asks, looking over the hunched over machine. "I didn't realize. It's big."
"And old. A heirloom, I was told, of an old Clan that doesn't exist anymore. I'm not really sure how it was constructed, save that it was drawn from the Library several thousand years ago. He's a dueling Titan, now repurposed. Fourty feet, full AI support, direct neural interface." The young woman can't help but smile proudly as she reviews her machine; her friend. A little piece of self and home, carried along in a much larger home. A home currently occupied by a long lost family member, no less. She's going to have to tell him what's going on, and soon. "I did get a chance to try him out against some dholes a while back, how about that for making a Titan feel small?"
"Mech-life is weird," the chimpanzee claims, and offers Tasha the empty glass back. "I like the kind you can take apart and put together without it 'dying' on you."
Tasha accepts the glass, but dips her head. "I don't know, I've grown fond of the kind that lives, myself." She inclines her head. "I'll leave you to your work, Mr. Modo. Do let us know if you need anything." She offers a smile, then turns towards Samael.
After walking all the way up to just below the Titan's knee, Tasha looks up and raises her eyebrows. "Not feeling very social, Sam?"
"I'm not a particularly social sort, at least not in close quarters," Samael claims. "Comes from a lack of escape options, perhaps. And other reasons."
"Dark thoughts, maybe?" Tasha peers at the knee, then she pushes over a nearby ladder and clambers up it, plopping herself down right beside the demonic alien. "Still having that weird feeling?"
"All of my thoughts are dark, of course," the demon claims. "And yes, I feel uncomfortable in that company. But I should feel better once we reach flat space."
"Alright. Well, let me know if any of them, or anything before us, concerns you. I'll be listening to everyone while we're out here. Everyone." Tasha reaches over and pats Sam's arm, then scoots back to the ladder. "I'll have Liza bring you a drink if you like."
"No need to waist consumables on me," the man claims. "I appreciate the thought, though."
"It's not wasted, Sam. And you're welcome." Tasha slides down the ladder, then gives the man a wave before heading back out of the hangar.