Charon tilts his head at Tasha. "Did you not know that you were part human?" he asks. "Humans are part Tyrrhyan, so I am also distantly related to them. Or they are distantly related to me. I'm not sure if it matters at this point. My great-great-grandma helped them when they were still all hairy."
The furless, non-imposing hand doesn't change while the remote relays all of this.
Meanwhile Tasha looks over the -- her -- new hand, turning it over, flexing it, then as if she might contract some disease, hesitantly reaching her other one to touch it. To her, the both look so fragile, and she's sure that they're more sensitive in a way that isn't just a lack of fur or scales. "I-I knew that! But I thought it was a small part. Very small." Her voice sounds much like her hands look: small and delicate, harmless, foreign.
"I don't know the exact ratio," Charon admits. "Wolves and humans share a whole lot of their genetics, being from the same planet and all. I had to fill in the gaps though - but I have a very good gene library."
Realizing her hand isn't going to change just by staring at it, Tasha finally lowers the both of them to her side and begins the slow process of trying to sit up. The slow, discovery and fear rich process of sitting up. Her body is alive with focus as she tries to spot every little difference simultaneously in a whole new level of self-conciousness. "You said Tyrrhyans? Are related to Humans? Are you related to whales or Phins, then?" It seems obvious enough to her, they do look very similiar and the one Waymaker she met gave her a decidedly similiar impression. It's very weird her to think they might to so close, despite being so different. Much, as it happens, like Humans and Karnor.
At least the lower gravity in the chamber means she doesn't have to worry about falling over too much. While moving is fairly obvious, sorting out her vision and sense of smell is trickier.
The weird sense of small causes Tasha to reflexively reach for her nose, or at least her previous one, only to find empty space. She grimaces, which only brings further attention to her changed face and it's strange new features. Strange, startlingly flat features. Her hand moves to touch her face and she finds it feels very Human at least, but she isn't able to get more of an impression other than that it, too, seems a lot more senitive. She wonders if she's an attractive Human; she wonders what it might mean for interacting with others.
It's all so much, Tasha just can't take it. At leats, not sitting down. She rises from the pod and plants her arms of the edge, intent on getting out and at least walking around.
"You might want to wipe off your mouth before licking your lips," Charon advises. "There's still some amniotic gel."
The young woman pauses, half way out of the goo-filled artificial womb. She didn't really think Human had goo all over their faces, but she's inwardly mortified to realize she didn't exactly think they didn't, either. Despite associating with a few of them, she simply never gave them much thought until the last few years. The goo gets wiped off and then she drops to the floor. She wobbles, looks down to spot her very furless legs, then stumbles and slip-slides on to her knees!
At least some things seem familiar. A lot of her general body shape is close to what she remembers, if just a bit smaller. It's her legs that give her more cause for alarm than the lack of tail (which wasn't really used for balance or anything) and wings. Without the wings and accompanying infrastructure, she does feel a lot lighter. More flexible as well.
"We are related to dolphins and whales as well," Charon notes. "My ancestors evolved alongside of them. I do not know how much of that code is used in the Stelya'rhyan though. We were mostly made from scratch."
Dropping on to her butt, Tasha extends one of the strange new legs forward on a lubricating stretch of slime. It's straight, furless, and decidedly lacking in hooves of any sort. She knows most pipedal species lack hooves, but she'd always thought that must be a very strange experience. Who wants to feel the desk, the floor, the road? And what if you step on something? She's traveled far and wide, and the universe seems filled with pointy and unpleasant things to step on. On top of that, they're straight. Her falling to her knees a moment ago should have lead to unpleasant muscle strain as she held herself up, her jack-legs not allowing for an upper leg to rest on the lower, yet now she folds neatly, which she admits inwardly is nice even if sooner or later she's going to have to get up -- and thereby feel everything she steps on.
That, she admits, is not nice.
"Are you ready to fight yet?" Charon asks, and noses Tasha in the small of her back. "I almost have a weapon ready."
To get her mind off this inevitable and strange new form of locomotion, Tasha turns to re-engaging in conversation. It's all very interesting conversation, she's just hasn't been able to focus on it. Now, she wants to not focus on herself. "Fighting? Oh, right, fighting. Yes. Yes. I, um, yes. I'll manage. You're still in danger and I won't be any, umm, uh, less Human by sitting around."
Fighting does sound like a great way not to think about her situation. More importantly, Charon's still in danger. Selfless sacrifice and goal-orineted behavior feels like exactly the right way to go about the situation.
"It will involve being covered in more goo," the little dragon warns. "And we have to get to my head."
"What's a little more goo?" Tasha asks as she stares down at her naked, emminantly Human, body. A part of her wonders if she's even still attractive; she's never been very good at rating Human beauty, but she dismisses that as a frivilous thought. With all that's happened, she can't let herself be self conciousness any longer. She can worry about being a Human later, when there's time to worry.
As Tasha rises once more (and she does indeed feel the floor), she asks, "I assume we won't be walking, do you have a tram or lift? Your head is kilometers away, isn't it?"
"I have tubes" Charon says. "I'm setting one up with air now. I didn't need air for the Marker thing. We still have to walk a bit. This isn't a very good location, but it was the closest I could bring you to. It'll be good to practice controlling your limbs."
"Just point the way and I'll follow." Tasha turns around and reaches down to pick up the remote.
Part of the while stretches open (which would explain the puckers and lip-like features spread about), and the veins glow to illuminate a passage beyond it. "I'll keep gravity and the surfaces soft at the start," Charon offers, then sort of hops into the new passage. Tasha has yet to see the little dragon use its wings for anything.
Tasha ducks, working her way in to the strange corridor, or artery, or corratery, peering around as she does so. She doesn't expect any sort of hazard, it's simply that the fact she's walking around inside a Stelya'rhyan. The awe of the situation has returned to her; she can't help but look around.
Once inside, Tasha walks after the dragonete in somewhat exagerated, too-high steps. As she goes she tries swinging her arms back and forth, then adds other motions: elbow bends, finger wiggles, expanding in to head movements. It surprises her she isn't falling over, and attributes that to Charon's work.
So far the gravity has only required rather light touches to the 'floor', but it does begin to get stronger. It's first felt in Tasha's chest - which she's at least used to when dealing with different gravities. But soon her feet are more firmly contacting the uneven floor, which itself is sometimes soft and flesh, sometimes hard and leathery (especially the more vein-rich spots) and alternates between damp, dry and 'squelchy'. Now that moisture also has more a direction, it's noticeably more warm and humid. Pores occasionally open in the walls to emit bursts of fresh air.
A living creature, Tasha reminds herself. She knew it, of course, but ot's one thing to know something and another to see the starbase-sized being you're inside has pores, veins, skin and a bone analogue. Charon really is alive, in the strictest sense of organic life. "Sometimes I have to eat and poop too." Tasha can't help but laugh a little at the thought, seeing just how literal it must be now. She's surprised by her own laughter in the face of things, something about putting herself aside and returning to protect Charon brings her a joy and a sense of purpose, clear and clean. She wonders if she were to fall again, would she just get right back up and rush forward again? And, again? However many times it took? Somehow, she thinks she might very well do that.
"Are you alright?" Charon asks at the sudden laughter. "I think the air mix is correct. You will tell me if you feel light-headed, won't you?"
Tasha does feel light headed, but she doesn't think it's the air. "I'm fine ... I think? Maybe I've never been better. Just get me to where you need me, and I'll help as much as I can." A purity of purpose, maybe that's what it is. And now that she is what she is, perhaps a purity of self, as well. No more hybrid body to fret over, uncertainties about who or what she is. That's been decided, at least for the moment. So, she doesn't need to worry about such things. Luk'thu-hem awaits, and it's rude to keep the gods waiting.
The feeling of well-being goes a long way towards improving Tasha's coordination, and soon they're in full gravity and she isn't even slipping in the puddles anymore. The reach the end of this particular tract, and are confronted with various puckers and spicules. The largest parts, and a fleshy tube extends out from it. The end stretch open via bony fingers. It looks a bit like a naked pink gooshurm, without the tongues. It's also very dark inside. "We need to be swallowed up," Charon explains and holds his paws up to Tasha as if asking to be picked up.
Tasha grins down at the little dragon, resisting the urge to try to pet and tickle it; maybe later. Instead she picks the little creature up and gives him a hug before stepping forward to eye the new orifice with a decided lack of enthusiam. She's pretty sure something like the gaping mouth-like worm lead to her current predicament. After studying the opening a moment she just shurgs; it may not be the last time she's eaten today, and the part of her mind that recoils at danger has grown increasingly silent in the face of her newfound resolve. She hods the dragonete to her, and ducks her way inside.
The tube collapses in around Tasha, effectively swallowing her. Thank goodness she doesn't have wings at the moment, since the method of propulsion is basically peristaltic action - the muscular walls of the tube keep pushing her forward. "Try to keep breath through your mouth," Charon advises, but not before the reason becomes clear: it smells a lot like blood and raw meat in here.
Vomitting and choking to death would be a decidedly embarassing way to die, Tasha thinks, and wiggles a hand free enough to squeeze her tiny new nose shut. If she's going to be aiding Charon, she'll just have to get used to things like this. At least she's being treated like a piece of meat by someone who seems to appreciate her.
The dark, moist journey seems to go on forever. Such a large body must have faster means of moving things around - and probably does. It's just they aren't meant for moving living beings around, or aren't convenient. This is given a bit more credence when Tasha and the remote are suddenly spat out into a weightless environment and.. something happens. There is movement, but no sensation of it, and an odd staccato sort of awareness. If anything, it reminds Tasha of the trip to the surface of Sheol in the Titanian stasis-bubbles. All sorts of single image events flash past - views of strange organs and structures that don't seem at all at home with biology. Energy beams, plasmas, rivers of suspended fluids. And then darkness and a gradual realization that the movement has stopped. There's a pull that does not feel like gravity which brings Tasha down against a dry, soft surface.
The journey feels like the universe's weirdest slideshow, as if she were sitting back on Abaddon recieving a crash course exotic biology and technology all at once. It leaves the ex-hybird a little dazed, as well as wanting to know more. A lot more. What were those things? What is that fluid? Was that a city, or was it a drive unit? Later, she'll have to ask later.
Blinking, Tasha rises up from her the fetal position she'd assumed around the remote and untangles herself enough to rest on her knees, a new and welcome benefit and one she plans to exploit to its uptmost. "Uh, so," she begins, eyeballing the new techno-organic realm she finds herself, " ... where to now, Charon?"
"That way," the little creature replies, and points. Into the darkness. Wherever they are, there isn't any light save for a glowing circle on the surface Tasha stands on. "Also stay in the circle, it's where the air is. I have a lot more control here though."
The circle does, however, move with them.
"How will I move if I have to stay in th--" As the circle moves along, Tasha simply shrugs. That, as it were, answers that. As cradles the dragonete infront of her as she walks headlong in to the darkness, feeling a little like she might be on stage, or else in that she's walked in to a very phsyical metaphor. It doesn't leave much to look at, leaving her with her thoughts and questions. "Charon, what's Luk'thu-hem's status? And how's the Dark Horse?"
"Monster-mom is trying to make monsters, I think," Charon reports. "Or maybe spores. Or escape body. She is strange. Demon-ship is still where it has been. It vanished into hyper-shoals once then popped back."
"That's weird." Tasha wonders why the ship could have vanished, thinking they must have tried to withdraw and been unable to. That, or some other plan. In hindsight she's not exactly sure why she ever believed her crew would do what she asked, they're a very willful and dedicated lot. She's sure they're worrying about her, too, she she reinforces her will to victory: She has to win, for Charon, for the Dark Horse, and for everyone else who might be at Luk'thu-hem's mercy should she regain her strength. "We can't let Luk'thu-hem escape. We'll have to see what she makes. If she can't beat us, she'll need to repair somehow, and I don't think she'll stand much of a chance if you get free. I'm sure she knows all of this, but you're right about them being weird. She could do something completely different."
"I have made poisoned bait," Charon says. "I think it is clever. The yellow space is wrapped inside a timestone shell. Lukthu-hem wants the timestone. But it is also a.. thing that bursts. Explodes." The little dragon seems proud, or at least wags its tail, which thumps Tasha's thighs as a result.
The dragonete gets petted; she just can't resist when he seems so happy. "Be sure to make it extra-tricky. Luk'thu-hem might remember that I tricked her with mines -- those are bombs that wait for an enemy to bumble in to them -- so she migth expect the same trick again. If you can make the bait seems like battle damage, or maybe a distraction so that you can escape, we can try and fool her in to making a decision we ready for. That way even if she ignores it we can act against her if she goes for the second trick. Coordinating all our plans will help us a lot, I think."
"You will carry bait in exobody, maybe pretend to be fleeing?" Charon suggests, and then the circle of light encounters something. It's still black, but in the same way the remote is black. It's much bigger though. It looks like part of a tail.
The young woman raises her brows, which is at least very similiar to raising them the old way, and leans over to peer at this new oddity. "Is this ... a full grown remote?" She shifts the remote under her left arm and reaches over to run a hand along what she thinks might be a tail. "And you want me to carry it? I don't mind. Maybe you could pretend to be about to self-destruct your old body? Then she'll need to let go of you, and will come after me. That's three motivators to get her to follow me. Then you can help me attack her. Just be careful of the Dark Horse. Tatha-hem is at the heart of the Horse and her essence is travel. She can destroy anything by causing causality errors, and we don't exactly control that function."
"No, this is exobody," Charon says. "Follow as it gets thicker. It is not remote. Can't let Lukthu-hem capture remote. It is for you to pilot."
"Oh," goes Tasha, whose eyes have gone wide. The hand runs up the tail as she uses it as a guide and steps through the darkness. An exobody, for her to pilot! Memories of Confederate craft fill the space of her guesswork, organic machines different from the Melchior's mechanisim.
The tail soon thickens until it's taller than Tasha, and she nearly trips over what seems to be a giant scaly flipper. It's big enough that she'll have to go around.
Tasha doesn't stop touching things, at least when she's able. If she's to pilot something like this she'll need all the familiarity she can get. Flippers! "I pilot a Titan back on my ship, the Melchior. I'm used to mind-machine interfaces through neural control wiring. Will this be very different?" To the young woman, it seems like it might be very different.
"Is that what the wires in your head are for?" Charon asks. "I don't know if this will be different or not. I'm not very familiar with technology." They pass under something when they reach the main body again. It's some sort of nacelle structure - it reminds Tasha a little of the flight engines on Caspar, only much bigger. And there is another wing-like flipper-fin to negotiate.
Space flight is a given, but I wonder if it can move in air? And water? An all-terrain Titan is an exciting prospect; Tasha had long been stymied in her piloting of the Melchior by his relatively limited sphere of mobility. Atmospheres thick, or low gravity, enough to navigate with him are regretably uncommon in a life full of space travel. "Yes, that's what they're for. I'm glad they still exist. They do still exist, ri-- actually don't tell me! I need to focus on what's ahead, not worry about what may or may not have been lost." She shifts from walk to slow job, feeling more confident in her balance and not wanting to delay any further than necessary.
Eventually they reach what must be the head. Because it has eyes. It vaguely resembles the head of Charon's remote, but has bigger teeth, big whiskers, and what might be a cannon growing out of its forehead in the shape of a spiraling horn.
Tasha pets the head with some trepedition. She knows it's very unlikely to harm her, or even move, but something of its size and obvious danger deserves a certain respect. Beyond that, she struggles with the idea of piloting such a thing. Will she be this behemoth? Will this face be her face? At least she'll have a muzzle again, and a scaley hand. There's also the sense of impending power, always a heady brew, though tempered somewhat by the knowledge the battefield is litered with more powerful beings still. At least she won't be fighting alone, in whatever body she currently inhabits. "Sooo, how do I climb aboard? The, uh," her head tilts, "... ear canal maybe? Is there a hatch or something?"
"You have to go in through one of the nostrils," Charon explains. "I had to make it in a hurry, and that is the quickest way to the brain that does not compromise structural integrity." Then the tail wags again, and the remote notes, "I call it a Stellar Rhian."
"I see you also came up with a way to tease me in a hurry." Tasha places the dragonete down on the larger dragon's nose, then leans over to see if she can tickle it. She's about to go in to battle, she can be forgive a moment's pause to tickle a leviathan's adorable little drone avatar. The tickling ends with a pat on the head. "Well, I'll be leaving again! You'll want to get away from the mouth, I'm sure. Me and the 'Star Horse' will launch as soon as we feel ready and have the bait."
The remote squirms from the tickling. The nearest massive nostril also opens up, and Tasha even gets a blast of warm, dry breath. This helps dry off the remaining goo that's stuck to her.. even though she's probably going to be dealing with more of it again.
Tasha tries not to think of a life coated with sticky goo, least she end up teasing herself inadvertantly. Ducking down, she passes beneath the arch of the nostril and makes her way through the humid, living cavern, eventually ascending the slope towards ... Did he say the brain? Being in something's brain will be a new experience for her at least. She's sure there's a joke there as well, but she pushes it down. She tickled the remote, she got her moment of fun. It's time to focus, Charon is counting on her and so is everyone else.
There are various heavy flaps or valves to negotiate, and Tasha is fairly certain they're sealing off tightly behind her. Finally she reaches a spot that lights up. It doesn't look all that different from the way the Tadpole's brain forms a tube that the pilot's head fits into.. only this one is big enough for Tasha's entire body, with some room to turn around so she's not facing backwards. The light comes from the firing synapses in the translucent structure; she can see the Star Horse thinking.
I hope you're thinking well of me, because we're about to be one. Tasha looks down at herself, body still as weird and foreign as ever, yet conviently divested of any clothes or gear to get in the way. Nodding slowly, she then turns around and steps in to the tube. The remote spoke of fluids, which she anticipates as similiar to the oxywater of the Phins or the pinkish anti-g version the Melchior uses, reading herself to inhale it. The experience is never plesant, but at least she's used to it. What awaits after connection, however, she has no idea. Merging with another being is always an exciting and terrifying prospect, even when that being exists for her to do so.
This time, something extends and reshapes itself in front of her. It looks like a mask, but one with lots of flesh fingers around the edges. There's a tube that's quite clearly providing oxygen, since she can smell it (and it goes a long way to dispersing the general scent of blood).
Chasing the 'all in' sentimentality she's fostered, Tasha leans her head in and wraps her lips around the device, ready to get going and to get merging over and done with. She doens't know how much time they have, and worries she may have been too slow in getting here, but she won't let things fail out of squimishness. Better to get it done quickly!
The mask fastens itself firmly, making an airtight seal against Tasha's conveniently smooth skin. Then the brain tissue presses in around her, until she can feel the electricity. Finally the dense fluid begins to fill the rest of the space. Cerebrospinal fluid, maybe? If it can cushion the brain against sudden accelerations, then the space-beast version should be even better. The flashing patterns of the synapses begin to merge together, and suddenly Tasha is once again in an unfamiliar body. But this one feels a lot more powerful than her old one. With Melchior, there was a sense of abstraction. This seems the opposite. There's very much an emotional component, and physical sensation is much more complete.
Her body is long and streamlined, and her limbs are very different: four wing-like fins around where her arms or wings would be, and another set of four at her hips. And the chamber she's in isn't dark at all. The very notion of darkness just doesn't seem like an option with this body. She's in Charon's hangar.. otherwise known as a mouth. The soft surface is actually his tongue, and the place is bright and full of color. Fields of energy, eddies of magnetism and gravity.. everything is visible. Like how she would imagine how the currents and pressure planes of open air would look if she could see with her wings. She can feel the 'bait' in her skull too, at the base of her horn. The casing itself is made of crystallized spacetime, a tiny universe folded over and over until it thought it was matter. It wasn't going to just explode: it would spread its yellow payload across multiple dimensions.
The sense of power and self is overwhelming; if Melchior was the mind of a god, and Balthasar had seemed to her like sitting upon a god's thone with the power at her hands, then this body is vision and identity of such an high and mighty being. Though she knows the truth, there are many things mightier than she even now, the feeling persists. It is as great an experience over what she was -- Human or Hybrid -- as she has ever felt before, complete and far-reaching. Alive with fury and potency, her sense of her own vitality soars. All around her reality comes alive in a way it never had, her senses gone from diminished to ever-reaching. This, then, must be what Charon sees, what all the other beings see, or at least a great part of it far beyond the realm of ordinary modern sentients.
And with will and strength comes the desire to inflict her purpose on the being that threatened her and her charge, that has endangered their world. The emotion is overwhelming, she does what comes naturally to her, from a memory near death:
The biotitan roars in its hangar, kenning and definant, as if it might be heard by the distant Luk'Thu-kem and bit its cry alone force it to flee forever from its presence. Systems come to mind, and are engaged. Review of statuses, preperations for departure. Weapon checks. She is ready. Is it?
The hangar-mouth opens, and the blackness of space is ablaze where it shines through the dark bulk of Lukthu-hem. It takes some mental focusing to not see through the moon-sized Ogdru-hem. For now, with these borrowed senses and the means to interpret them, the blurry extra dimensions of the monster are perceptible. They aren't part of the universe. Incursions from a foreign reality. She can feel her roar splash off of them. Vacuum isn't really empty, she can see. Things other than air or water can carry her roar. The quantum field responds. Particles are born and die with the shockwave. Her wing-fins feel the aether and know how to move through it. She just has to choose her path, and her tactics.
No school lecture, nor anything Gabriel sat down and taughter her, nothing in Nora's toughts or in her experience quite prepared Tasha for the level of conflict. A realm beyond, quite literally so. As she has become immense so has she risen to the level of the conflict around her. No longer an insect spectator, a virus, bacteria crawling upon an extremity it neither comprehends nor can fully see, she has arrived as some level of equal. Deep in the non-emptiness of space she knows her oponent is now aware of her, perhaps even understands the nature of the challenge presented. All that remains is to decide how to go about her war.
Studying the ebb and flow of reality, there is much to take in and understand. She comprehends it, but it is still new to her, new skills and new knowledge lacking experience and real-world application. She must be careful not to over extend herself, or else to given in to hubris. Even as she is, she can still fall. She must consider carefully her options.
Of particular interest is the arms reaching in to this realm. Tasha knows the Ogdru-hem derive much of their stamina from their connection to elsewhere, energies supplying their seemingly limitless powers, rules from another place letting them break the rules of this one. These connections represent a prime target if she can damage them, leaving the near-goddess devoid of power and having to rely on what she can extract from this world and its laws. There are also the budding pods or creatures, they may attempt to engage her. Then, there is the elements in this universe. If they're destroyed, Luk'thu-hem might lose her grip on this reality entirely. First thing's first, however, she must see what Luk'thu-hem does, and test herself. She departes the hangar on wings of churned energy.
The new world of perception is suddenly filled with ghosts - but instead of echoes of the past, they're projections into the future. Where energies might converge, where new buds may burst to release Lukthu-hem's defenders and attackers. Like Charon, she's paralyzed - the tension and struggle between the two is more visible to Tasha now, as places were space seems ready to tear. Some of those future-ghosts show attacks being launched towards Dark Horse as well.
Though she had wanted to keep the Dark Horse out of things, to protect it and those she loves within, her accelerated mind knows in an instant that time has passed. Skeins of electromagnetisim whirl within her, pulses of gravity, the powers of pattern and communication within her mind. In a columinated burst of forces she lights up the Dark Horse's hull, handshaking, algorithmic structures, an invitation to talk. Coordination will be key, she believes, they are much stronger together than they are apart, and she will not be able to protect all flanks and all allies simultaneously. They must, to a degree, protect themselves as well if she is to perfom her own role.
It isn't the crew that responds - the Star Horse (or really, Star Pegasus Unicorn) isn't used to communicating with technology. The response she gets is from Tatha-hem herself.. and to a lesser extend from Yue. Neither of these is exactly information based, however. From Yue Tasha picks up the emotional state of the crew: a sense of being trapped. Tatha-hem is conflicted. She's being held.. and it's through that sensation that Tasha perceives the tether. It's just outside of normal space, an extension of self-contained hyperspace itself. She can sense a lot of them after that. Probing Charon for weaknesses, and guiding the swarm of just-birthed monsters that spread from Lukthu-hem's dying body. There's no blurry edges on these - they are fully physical. Puppet weapons on dimensional strings, guided by their creator.
Feeling Charon can defend himself, if just for a while, Tasha focuses the immensity of her presence on freeing the Dark Horse from the dimensional anchors that entrap it. It will be very difficult for her to fight to her full extent so long as they are in danger and she must assess the ship as either an ally or a threat as soon as possible, least she end up fighting Luk'thu-hem, it, and countless spawn. Thus 'SPU Tasha' redirects it's flight to weave between the attack potentials against itself as it races towards the hyperspace shackle, yet releasing the Dark Horse is not enough: She must reach it somehow, to leave or to join her fight. Communication begins again.
Unable to use technological methods, Tasha probes the ship for the minds that might answer it: There is reliable Dr. Sen, the vital and questioning mind of Tatha-hem, and somewhere there must also be the Tadpole. She splits her attention to each, and sends her message.
To Yue is a sense of self, of herself in particular. Impressions of Tasha, the connection between them; it is a form of ID, the best she can think of right now. Yue Sen is smart, she expects good things from notifying her.
To Tatha-hem is much the same: Identification. Fish tacoes. Long talks in the dark. Listening. Sympathy. Beyond these: the impressions of threats, a sense of foreboding about Luk'Thu-hem and worry for Tatha-hem. She tries to press the idea of approach attacks, but is uncertain such details will work. She tries anyway. Combined with her severing the shackle, her desire to protect should become apparent.
Finally Tasha reaches out for the Tadpole. She doesn't know where it is, but she probes and listens. Maybe it will answer her.
There's something of a psychic nuzzle from the Tadpole. This is the mind most receptive to Stelya'rhian styles of communication. But there's another Tasha wasn't prepared for. "Tasha," it says, repeating several times as if trying to tune in properly. Thoth! "Situation," the hybrid requests.
Finally! The lack of communication had been frusterating, with so much to coordinate and plan, and far too many unknowns. Tasha's communications abruptly narrow as the home in in Thoth, fixating upon him and clarifying further. "I am the Stellar Rhian, antibody to Charon, Stelya'rhyan. We are aligned in purpose: The defeat of Luk'Thu-hem, the survival of Charon, the survival of the Dark Horse. We request coordination; we are preparing to destroy the shackles that bind the Horse. The ship is in danger. Incoming attacks." Vector information, ideas if the nature of the attacks are projected. "Charon remains in danger. We were able to remove the invading element, but Charon remains stuck, as is Luk'Thu'hem. We percieve her entirety, but cannot attack while you remain in danger. Coordinate or withdraw."
"We cannot move via normal controls," Thoth replies. "Eibon override being considered. I do not trust Pharol Xexanoth."
"Do not. He is not his own master. We cannot influence this at present. Attack is imminent. Decide: your release, or another plan. We cannot wait long. We must attack." The communication feels like it takes ages to Tasha's accelerated mind, but it is necessary. Without the Dark Horse freed from danger she is stalled and with her the primary thrust of Charon's attack. She suspects Luk'Thu-hem knows this and is using it against her, all the more reason to resolve it as quickly as possible. She nears upon the hyperspace shackle, thoughts turning to the weaponry and tactics that might break it. This is also her chance for experiement in weaponry: what will break the chain should break the puppet strings.
Tasha's main attack seems to be her roar, which can disrupt space. There's no telling if this can affect the closed-hyperspaces Lukthu-hem is using or not - but if she can perceive them she should be able to affect them somehow. The other issue, however, is that the Dark Horse only has one weapon: The Dagger of Eibon. But even if that were used against Lukthu-hem (who IS smaller than Urgo-hem was) there's still the matter of implementation: it took a long run up at relativistic speed to pierce Urgo-hem's event horizon. That in itself might mean the Dark Horse would need to flee a good distance before it could attack, at which point it just would need to stop. There just isn't enough known about the system to be certain. But without being able to dive into the maelstrom, the ancient ship is without defense on top of lacking any offense. Each of the drones launched by Lukthu-hem already outmass the Dark Horse.
And then the Tadpole launches, with no warning.. certainly not from Thoth.
With options limited, Tasha returns to her original plan even as she senses track the Tadpole. What is it doing? Where is it going? Another unknown in a infinitely tense situation, something even her heightened existance cannot interpret beyond a bevvy of guesses. "We have reconsidered. We will release you. Withdraw and retreat from this space. If you," and Thoth knows Tasha means him, "... wish to remains, Horus is in the hangar bay. Coordinate. Use what powers you possess. If you have nothing, depart. Will will fight, beyond death if we must. But chose quickly. We will now attempt to break the shackle. Should we fail, we reconsider." The harmonic rumble begins in the dragon's throat, stretching throughout its body, raising and sharpening beyond the roar of the challenge to something to quake the very fabric of space itself. An attempt is made to narrow this effect, as like a beam, and then Tasha focuses her senses and aims.
The sheering cry blasts forth from the exobody at strength, ravaging time and space and dimensions beyond!
It isn't exactly breathing fire.. but all the same, the space along the beam burns. And the hyperspace link dodges by sinking deeper, away from the volume effected by the quantum eraser effect. And then the Tadpole dives down after it. The exobody was rushed, and Tasha is limited to normal space and overspace, with hyperspace being problematical due to her literal warhead. In the meantime, the drone swarm's probably futures are solidifying: Tasha can feel Lukthu-hem's attention on her. With the timestone, she must look like an actual remote - something Lukthu-hem needs in order to break through Charon's final defenses and claim his power source.
With time twindling, the titanic bulk of the exobody whips around in space. Deep within the erasing cacophony builds again, as does another power. Space warps around its body, trailing and flexng along its wings, a plane begins to form -- and then it flicks forward and beyond. A brief hop through overspace, its body vanishing and reappearing much closer to Luk'thu-hem and her swarm of closing death in a position to place the flood in as much of a linear box as possible relative to the exobody's new position. Without further warning its cry bursts forth once more, aiming to blast the drones from real space in a tight beam, shifting to a wider sweep after the anticipated evasive scatter after the surprise burst.
A few are yanked back through hyperspace via their tethers, and several more take evasive action. But those in the forefront are cut down; either by having parts sheared away or simply ceasing to exist, absorbed back into the quantum flux. For those, Tasha can sense the control lines also being withdrawn - they weren't severed! Lukthu-hem launches another wave of smaller drones, and tries pushing some of the originals through hyperspace in an attempt to get behind the exobody.
Tasha responds by executing another overspace jump, taking her farther away once more. She knows she can't keep performing the same trick, that eventually one or the other of them will make a misstep -- and Luk'thu-hem has far more feet to lose than she does. She wonders at the near-deity's capacity for production: Can she possily win a battle of attrition, whittle the demigod's resources down to a manageable level and thereby in in the long run? Yet, with Luk'thu-hem connected to the higher dimensions her energies may remain effectively limitless. She considers in-reality mass, studying the drones, if they require it then even with unlimited energies she cannot create spawn forever.
Lukthu-hem is nearly dead - and her desperate attempt to get at Charon's energy suggests her own sources are considerably less than she needs. Tasha also knows the exobody has a finite power supply, since giving it a timestone one would run the risk of it falling into enemy hands. Still, the amount stored in the body is immense. And either Lukthu-hem's resources are diminishing, since the second wave of drones are all smaller, or else her ability to control them all has limits. They still seem to be fully focused on Tasha for now though.
With the drones pursuing her, at least their intention is known. Tasha executes a cat and mouse chase through space, hoping here and there, occassionally randomly, to fire lesser bursts against the spawn that she's judged likely to take a destructive hit. She forgoes the sheer power she used before to snipe away at them and thereby hopes to reduce their numbers to a more manageable level. Were she to attack directly now, she fears being caught in a pincer by thier combined might and Luk'thu-hem's own offensive power as it redirects its assault on Charon to go for the easier target and thereby win in that fashion -- or so it may think. Even if she can't defeat the puppets entirely, should the Tadpole severe the link she can feign that is was all a delay, an attempt to save the Dark Horse. She would then contact Charon and coordinate to further the ruse, perhaps to have him burst her a tremendous amount of faux-data, a pretend ejection, an escape pod, then Tasha can turn tail and flee while Charon's own body feigns a self-destruct. She will have to see how things go.
The destroyed drones are not immediately replaced. Lukthu-hem is either conserving her resources or simply running dry. The Dark Horse submerges again, only to reappear a moment later - some Tatha-hem must be trying to break free. All of the hopping around does give Tasha a better overview of where Lukthu may be most vulnerable to a multidimensional impact from Hastur-bomb.
Should the ruse not be needed, Tasha has other plans: With the drones numbers reduced, her ability to close rapidly will become less hindered. Moreover, Luk'thu-hem herself cannot move nor evade and now that she isn't swarmed to the same extent she had been the possibility of attacking the nigh-deity directly becomes available. It is this tactics she adopts now, keeping her evasion until it places her along Luk'thu-hem's vulnerable flank, where upon she switches targets suddenly and surges her cry in to a high powered crescendo, curious what the dark being will do to shield itself from the surprise break in her attack pattern.
Drones are throne through hyperspace to try and shield the main body, but the strike hits and removes a good chunk. However, it isn't exactly a lot of damage in comparison to Lukthu's bulk. The drones that didn't get caught turn on Tasha. So far they haven't had a chance to use any weapons against her, so their capabilities are unknown still.
Tasha would rather not find out the hard way what those weapons are, either. Yet, self-sacrifice remains ever on her list of available options. She considers rushing in as before, but decides it's not believeable enough. The damage was severe, but relatively minor. She must locate a better target while continuing to manage the swarm and sift through a changing battlescape. As she assesses the damage and correlates that with what is known of the their enemy, she tries to locate sections that may be more vulnerable to the precision attacks that she can deal: sections of Luk'Thu-hem's real body that connect to the higher dimensions, to the drones, or else the sources of forces and fields that constrain Charon. She may even be able to destroy the being through conventional damage, but she doubts it. No, she decides she must construct a proper trap that is believable, then lure Luk'Thu-hem in to it with an irresistable prize.
Lukthu-hem's physical energy seems to be concentrating more towards the base of one of the ephemeral tentacles that still surrounds Charon. Having put so much of her reserves into birthing the swarm may have pushed her past the point where stealing the Stelya'rhyan's power source - it may indicate a potential takeover attempt of the actual body, or an attempt to destroy the enemy with her last gasp. It may also explain why the swarm ships haven't used any weapons: they just couldn't be invested with the energy for them. They'd be weapons themselves, suicide-drones defending the queen.
Realizing this, the armed and nimble exobody moves to take advantage of the thinned number of living missiles by returning again to attack the main body. Her target: the anchorage points for each tentacle, starting with the point of focus. If she can dislodge Charon the Stelya'rhyan can retreat, or retreat and assist her in the attack. She cannot allow the Ogdru-hem to self-destruct at such a close proximity until she knows more about what danger that poses, and so it remains a high threat possibility. Flicking through space, the exobody places itself at a clear angle to fire upon the tentacle base. In its horn still remains the Marker, Tasha's trump card, to be used when the time is right.
With the bait so close, more appendages peel away from the main one, stretching out in an attempt to cage Tasha. The drones also swing around towards the exobody from behind.
Sensing a chance and concerned Lukthu-hem may self-destruct if it takes more damage, Tasha takes the opportunity to fire not on the tentacles moving towards her but on the ones still holding Charon. With the grip Stelya'rhyan reduced, she hopes this new barrage will loosen that grip further giving Charon room to overwhelm Lukthu-hem. At the same time she dodges and weaves, trying to keep away from the titanic appendages and drone weapons. It's risky, but she's here to defend Charon and the Dark Horse, seeing herself as the most expendable. A weapon, a living weapon, not unlike the bombs that chase her.
Most of the main appendage vanishes from the attack - the parts depending on matter. There's still a lattice of dimensional stresses that make up a skeleton of sorts, but it seems paralyzed now. But the smaller ones close in, and Tasha taste space going sour around her. It's definitely effecting her mobility! She may even be cut off from using overspace jumps. This must be the dimensional miasma that has been holding Charon in place. "surRENDer." It's not even a voice, or something that is projected into Tasha's mind, so much as a smothering presence.
"I offer you the same option, as I have offered it to your children before you." Tasha has no idea if the projection will work, but provocation or negotiation, her plan can use either result. Her own situation having deteriorated, she continues to dodge while switching to the tentacles now closing on her. She doesn't expect successful escape, instead trying to reduce the buffer between herself and what appears to be the central point of energy exchange between this universe and the other, yet trying to appear to have overextended in Charon's defense. As she struggles she feels the 'voice,' her own long experiences with the alien and the uncomprehensible, as well as her new body, allowing her to endure where others might have crumbled under the demigod-like weight of the demand.
"yOu have NOTHING to barGAIN with," Lukthu-hem pressures. "I will HAVE what you CARry. A smALL sacRIfice."
"The Stelya'rhyan do not travel alone. I need only delay you further. You have failed in defeating a child, you must know you cannot defeat an adult, even at full strength. Do not compound your mistake further." Negotiation or misdirection, Tasha at least hopes the starnge communication between them keeps Lukthu-hem distracted and doubting. Meanwhile, she splits her fire between tentacles and the closest child weapons, wanting to avoid loss of motility until the land moment. She will need that time to align her horn, perhaps to make a proper charge and expend her real space momentum.
It requires twisting around, since the drones are mainly approaching from behind. The effort is certainly more than it was before. It isn't like the exobody is being restrained, so much as it feels like going from air to water. The pressure from Lukthu-hem is definitely altering space around Tasha, and given the effects flat space can have on a mind, curdled space is making it harder for her (or the exobody's brain) to project probably futures.
"The CHILD is stILL wITHin my WEb," the dying monster notes. "It canNOT call fOR aide. It canNOT escape. You WILL feed ME."
It quickly becomes apparent to Tasha her time is just about up. She could attempt to flee, but she sees now her weaponry can only deal partial damage that will never be enough alone. She doesn't need predictive senses to know she'll soon be caught and so decides to be caught on her own terms. In a sudden change of tactics she accelerates towards the center mass, the vast energies of the space-time quaking function building like a nova inside her as she routes a majority of her remaining power to her weapon and movement. Her body braces, unused biological systems shut down as they become devoid of power. She saves just enough energy to move for a time after impact, should she need to align her horn once more.
Like an arrow of light the exobody shines with churning real space energies, emmissions rising across the board such that it momentarily becomes radiant as it hurls through space for the core of Lukthu-hem. In a split-crack, reality buckles in waves before it as the wepaon is released, a catastrophic beam of sundered existance reduced to flame-like roiling quantum energies. It is this trail of destruction Tasha follows as she proceeds ever deeper, head lowering in anticipation of impact!
The wave burns past the last of Lukthu-hem's physical layers to expose the core. There is a lot more energy there than she detected originally, a vortex where varying layers of space, subspace and hyperspace bleed and scream. But there shouldn't be anything that could stop a ballistic projectile. The timestone casing around the poison pill is it's own spacetime, so no amount of turbulence should deflect it (and Tasha isn't certain just how accurate she needs to be). The awful pressure is worse this close, however, making it difficult to marshal her thoughts as her sense of time jumps around.
Without the ability to concentrate Tasha's aim becomes unreliable and, sensing the imminence of death from experience, she follows her instinct to carry through with her charge and removes thoughts of survival from her mind. Rather than use her own senses she switches to using Lukthu-hem herself as the beacon of her impact, weaving herself through the warped space to towards the churning energies like a ship intent on running aground before the lighthouse. She flies until she can fly no more, ready to fire.
Everything begins to blur, including her own mind as she gets within striking range. She's aware of tendrils of something reaching for her, mainly as shadows on her disrupted senses. The only thing that clear and in focus is the bullet itself. Either because of the timestone, or because of what it holds: Hastur's distilled essence of yellow.. or sanity so sharp it seems like madness. She only has to pull the trigger, a simple focused act of will.
Latching on to the beacon of madness, or snaity, or somehow both in that space of knowing where all things become as one, Tasha uses the last of her primary energy reserves and fires in to the roiling maelstrom! Systems shut down: her flight becomes uncontrolled, her emissions drop to almost nil, and her vision fades to little more than a faded vision of real space. All that is left to her is life support and basic sensor packages and nothing more. Yet, the projectile is away, her task complete. She has done all that she could do. It is a peaceful thought in an unpeaceful place, hard to grasp in this twisted space.
It's invisible to mundane senses. Even the vortex seems dim. "POwer," Lukthu-hem crows, and then the yellow flower blooms. And spreads. Already brittle, Lukthu-hem's body petrifies into yellow matter before it begins to break up. The drones also suffer this fate, the poison carried along the puppet lines. Tasha can't turn to see if Dark Horse is still on the end of one of those lines, however. And as the exobody itself begins to die, she's pulled more and more back into her own. Surrounded by cooling goo.
Disoriented, Tasha at first belives she might be dying, unable to tell the difference between the exobody and herself. She had difficulty before, her own body being greatly changed and the connection between it and the exobody so complete that had she originally woken inside it she would not have known she possessed any other body. She struggles against the slime, still wanting to do something now that she can move again. It then strikes her she's lost connection, that she's been ejected from the exobody's mind.
The brain that surrounds her, once alive with neural fireworks, is going dim. And then Tasha feels movement - an impact. And shaking as well. But it's still getting cold in here, as her own body temperature begins to exceed that of the surrounding flesh. And once the last of the light goes out.. she finds herself under a white sky punctuated by black stars. She still feels gooey, and stuck to the surface she's lying on.
The young woman blinks up at the sky, not really seeing it. Dazed, exhausted, and sad, she can't find the energy to do more than lay there and let the past wash over her like the waves of a calm sea. Emotions come and go, and memories, each like a slideshow and without prompting. A sense of finality permeates her experince, of the last move, the last breath, the last gambit, perhaps the end of many things. Twice now she's been brough to this point in so short a span of time, yet again it doesn't seem to be over. Whatever happens now will happen, she knows, but she'll wait for it to come to her. Until then, she'll rest here where she's fallen.
There's a loud crack of breaking stone, and the view changes as Tasha is tilted forward. The alien skyline of Carcosa heaves into view, along with its master. She's never been this close to Hastur before. Now she can see under the hood, where an almost featureless mask of white and gold comes into view. Growing ever larger as she's brought closer to it.
Having faced what feels like endless horrors by now, Tasha watches Hastur with calm eyes. It's not that she doesn't feel fear, or understand what Hastur might be, she has been oushed beyond her reserves and still further yet. Like the exobody, like her own body, her ability to react is devoid of power, of the energy needed for fear and terror, a vast and silent mentalscape with neither wind nor rain. Like this place, her mind is still.
The only openings in the mask are for the eyes, which are black pits. Tasha is being brought closer to the left one, as if for inspection. There's movement in the abyss of the eye hole though. Tasha gets an impression of a tunnel - probably not dissimilar from the one leading down to the Source's pit. But not carved, as there's definitely motion. "Your mind is grey," the giant notes to Tasha. "Your vibrant colors are gone now, leaving you a pale shadow."
Tasha's lack of reply is the same, yet it feels like exactly the right answer to her. She has, after all, done all she could do. What, then, is there left to say? Her existence and her sacrifice are the answer. Her life, perhaps come and gone, is her answer. What could she say that would top that? She can't fathom the answer.
The motion intensifies, and dark tendrils like solid smoke reach out from the eye of madness-or-sanity. "This is unacceptable," the alien voice claims, and the tendrils solidify into slow electric arcs of yellow energy. When they touch Tasha.. she feels it. A jolt to every cell of her being. "You've been emptied out.. but I can't fill you. This is temporary. I require you whole yet." Now Tasha's mind feels so sharp it might cut her skull open. She's being fondled, in a sense. Forced to feel alive despite her exhaustion. There are images, of places and entities that beggar sanity or comprehension. "I need you to kill more.."
And Tasha is up, wide-eyed and intense. Once placid, at a certain peace, she possess's an adicts energy and sickliness, a a half-strung puppet on yellow strings. "YES?" She forgets even speaking, having forgotten to rely on it after having been merged with the exobody so quickly after having woken from her previous destruction. She still tries to project, going through the motions of before. "YES? WHEN? WHO?"
"You will end the Void Keepers," Hastur informs Tasha. "Only then will the knowledge you require become available. You know of one of these creatures already. Sadu-hem. Chief underling of Ogdoad D'endrrah. Time is malleable."
"I WILL," Tasha agrees, the frantic energy maming anything other than agreement seem unfathomably slow, as if to stop and think or hesitate might cause her thoughts to back up and catastrophically slam in to each other. She's a live wire, a solar flame, burnt yet dangerously energetic. "VOID KEEPERS. SADU-HEM. UNDERLING. END." The shape of the sickly yellow fire shifts in to something more comprehensible, the fire of struggle, of conflict. It is at least familiar, even if it means the end of her rest.
"Bird of Hermes, become Hermes Trismegistus," Hastur instructs. "In that name approach Thoth, also called Hermes Trismegistus. There is power in names, in their invocation and in their avoidance. Bear my Sign." And then Tasha is jerking upright so hard she nearly impacts the person leaning over her with her forehead. The light is shining up from the soft surface she finds herself on, and makes the underlit figure over her look briefly demonic before he flinches back. "Humans should not jerk like that!" Dr. Karaktinio claims after the near-miss.
Tasha's eyes snap on to the Dr. Karaktinio with such painful speed and razor focus time seems to slow down as the threat of imminent roils off, unmistakable. Yet the reaction lasts only for an instant, gone as quickly as it came. "What? Where? Who are..?" She still tries to project mind having great difficulty in assess what 'self' is now, eyes wide and lost.
"He brought you back," Charon's calmer voice notes. "And the exobody. With the Tadpole." There are indeed larger forms nearby, hinted at by the reflections of the light.
"/Oh./" Tasha's head snaps directions, shifting to fix on each thing in turn like the recording of curious bird set to fast forward. After thisb initial and rather blurry assessment she focus on on Dr. Karaktinio once more and tries to /think/ a question at him. When this fails, she does it again, and again, until she remembers his outcry, spoken words, and wheezes, "/Wha..t ... w-what happened? We w-won?"
"Did we?" the Eeee asks. "What did we win? But first, if you don't mind, please say something only Tasha would say, that I would recognize."
Tasha blinks at this, recoiling a little. Her expression becomes a mess of confusion and concentration, brows furrowing. For a moment she's not exactly sure about this Tasha, only to realize she's related to her somehow. Solidly related, she's sure. Someone important to her, to what she was doing. She thinks back through the beings in her mind, all recent ones. She could not be the Yellow, only the Yellow is Himself. Charon remains bright, she was protecting him. Of course. No, she's not Charon. Dr. Karaktinio is talking to her, no, not him. She turns to stare at the darkened form of the exobody, frowning at it. Tasha is half-Vartan, but she's sure the dragon is also Tasha. Yet, wasn't she part of the dragon? Or maybe she is the dragon, and the dragon is part of herself? Either way she was it and it herself, and Tasha is it too, so ... she must be Tasha. Putting the pieces in place snaps her memory in to focus, like adjusting an out of focus lense array. She turns back to the Eeee and hesistantly lifts a finger to point at him. "I thought I t-told you t-to leave."
"Yes, and I did," the Eeee notes. "But then the Tadpole was too antsy to stay in the hangar, and we ended up.. I don't know how to explain it. It was weird. But it let the Dark Horse get clear. And then she wanted to chase after a space sea serpent. And there was an explosion or something, and she was pushing the monster back towards this monster, and we got swallowed, and then you got sneezed out of what seemed like a dead body, and the little dragon tells me you're Tasha. So.. we did leave. You didn't say not to come back."
"Oh." She feels like 'oh' is familiar now too, as if she's heard it a lot lately. Has she been saying it? She thinks; it appears so. There have been many surprises lately, Tasha is sure, and here is yet another one. Wasn't she supposed to kill something? Or is that later? But time is mallable, so there's always time. Or isn't, she supposes. Of the two, she decides there must be time now, or there wouldn't be talking. "That's true," she agrees at length, nodding slowly as if it were a deep philosophical point. "I am the space sea serpent. Or was. I think I still am, in a way. We were fighting ... " Her expression narrows quite suddenly. "Lukthu-hem. She did not surrender. We tried. Did we win?" She looks to the smaller of the two dragons, brows raised. "Are you well, Charon?"
"I am Charon, yes," the remote claims. "Lukthu-hem is gone."
"And you no longer have clothes," the Eeee points out. "Did you know that you're a medium-sized human woman now? Your hair looks the same though."
"Then I was successful? Did I do well?" The exchange between the two appears as though Tasha is reacting on her own, her expression seemingly shifting without cause as she stares at the dragonete. Feeling the need, she holds her hands out for the tiny being to come to her. As she does this she thinks to explain, "I suffered a complication from my attack on the intruding body," in a tone that could have been used discussing the day's galley selection.
Charon's remote pounces onto Tasha, taking up all of her lap and then some. It doesn't seem to mind the gelling goo still clinging to her.
"That is quite a complication," the Eeee notes. "I've never seen anyone bruise in this manner before. Is it permanent?"
Tasha waits for the dragonete to get comfortable, then wraps her arms around it in a tight hug which she holds for a moment before settling for more lazy one. Having Charon safe and having his remote here with her might be the best reward she can think of. The feeling of success merges with comfort helping to ease her frayed nerves and razor mind. "I bruised in to a Human?" She asks, looking down at Charon and shugging at the being, thinking it's a very silly question. "No, I was broken and Charon fixed me, but only partially. I am in pieces, awaiting full repair. But, I had to fight. Being a Human is very strange for me too, but there wasn't time. Am I a bad Human? I can't tell."
"How would I know?" the Eeee asks reasonably. "I'm married, after all. So, little-telepathic-dragon, when will she be fixed?"
Tasha looks down at Charon for the answer, also liking to know. She doesn't think she's in a hurry anymore, but she is curious.
"The non-meaty parts are tricky, and I'm still recovering from the effects of Lukthu-hem's grip on me," the remote claims. "I might need help from my mom. I think she's worked with souls before. Or bits of them. And the meat parts have issues. I need to figure out how to put her back together as a proper creature instead of a hybrid."
Tasha nods to this, looking up. She's sure Charon can handle everything, after all. Didn't Charon fix her? She's fairly sure no one else could have fixed her, making him the reasonable expert now. "It is complicated," she contributes, wanting to say something now that she's remembered she can talk. She had forgotten how entertaining talking is, but telepathy is faster.
"What do you mean a hybrid? She's a gene-mod, a mezzode," Karaktinio points out. "You can't make a proper creature like that. Even the Terragens Clients take generations of tinkering to make sure they work. It's not like making something from scratch."
"Ah, yes, I should start from scratch then," Charon says, bobbing his head. "That is good advice."
"That.. doesn't answer about how long it will take," the Eeee asks again. Confederates are used to arguing with giant space monsters after all.
Tasha leans back, that is an alarming point the Eeee man has made. She considers for a moment, then remembers the answer and rolls her eyes at having forgotten it in the first place. "I forgot to tell you because I was lying to protect things, that is why you are confused. Charon, does that mena you'll have to make me over?" Again, she looks down.
"It will take..." the remote begins. "... some time. I will have to experiment before doing a brain transfer. Do you have to be someplace soon?"
"Well, I just came from a small spaceship full of anxious people, some of whom have had their paradigms shifted in ways that are probably causing cramps," the Eeee explains. "But no, we do not have a set timetable. There's plenty of interesting things here, including yourself."
"Then just come here," Charon offers. "I have lots of space."
Tasha's brow furrows. "I had to protect you, and that's done. It's done, isn't it? You said it was. I didn't have any plans after that, I thought that was going to be all I needed to do." She casts a look around again, lips working as she considers things once more. "This is all very unexpected. Oh. I should probably say hi to everyone, now that I'm still here, after all."
At the mention of space Tasha nods, reaching out to gesture at the vastness of the cavern-mouth-hangar. "Don't worry about the air, there are bubbles."
"Is it all full of dangerous life forms?" the doctor asks, looking to Tasha for her reaction to this offer. "I think he meant the.. uh.. garden area."
"The mouth is the hangar, you can't park in the garden. You'll squish the plants and animals." Tasha then shrugs, rethinking what she just said and adding, "Unless you can and you won't. I'm not sure how it works, actually. I think it might be a library or a laboratory."
"With the monster-mom no longer clogging me, I can swallow a small starship into the nicer part," Charon claims, and the little dragon spreads its paws. "I once ate a comet thisssss big!"
"That is a lot more than I can eat, very impressive," Tasha agrees, patting Charon's head fondly before giving him another hug. From the hugging she looks up to the Eeee and nods, "Well there you go, please ask the Dark Horse to dock with the mouth. I would, but my datapad also suffered a complication. So did my clothes. Everything did, really."
"I'll.. relay all of this to Captain Akkers," Karaktinio notes, and looks to Tasha again. He fishes something out of a pocket and unfolds it into a translucent Confederate datapad. After manipulating it a bit, he turns one face towards Tasha.. which shows a live image of her face. The first time she's actually seen it. Apparently she has some freckles, and blue eyes. "It's recording, so go ahead and say anything you want relayed to the captain."
The first thing Tasha does is lean in to really look at herself, her Human face going through a mix of emotions taht only become more exagerated as she reacts to seeing these emotions of her Human face for the first time. She ends up leaning back, alarmed, her right hand having gone to her face to touch all the new parts. "Ow," she complains, finding an area that's a lot more senistive than her Karnor version. Her lips wrinkle, canine-like, then she tries pushing on her nose, rotating it like some sort of console joystick, brows narrowed as if she were seeing some unholy oddity for the first time. "I look like this?" She concludes at last, head shaking in mild disbelief. "Am I even pretty anymore? I can't tell. Why do I have spots on my face, like a Silent-On--"
It's then that Tasha remembers she's being recorded, too. "Ahh!" She sits up, then hugs on to Charon, which also helps her hide somewhat. "I, um, hi? I sort of ... broke ... my face and, um, everything else. I killed Luk'thu-hem for Charon. This is Charon's remote," she lifts a paw and waves it at the recording, " ... I like him. He's very cute. He likes me too, I think. Uh. Oh, I'm Human now. You probably noticed that. I broke, like I said. Still being fixed. Did you see me outside? I was fighting, I'm also the space-serpent. But I'm resting now, I need to be repaired. Charon says you should come on board and dock in his mouth. I'll be right here."
The Eeee's expression through all of this is professionally neutral. He turns off the recording and folds the device back up for storage. "Now I just need to find the ship," he notes. "Charon.. I'm pretty sure Humans wear clothing.. all the time. Can you come up with something for Tasha, otherwise she's going to be carrying your around like that all the time. Also, she needs a bath."
"He's right," Tasha conceeds, looking down again. "Clothes are what I was wearing when I came in the first time, and like what he's wearing, except I don't need anything that complicated and functional unless you wnat to make it that way."
"I have a lot of hide left over from the creatures that Lukthu-hem slaughtered trying to get me," the remote claims.
"That is very sad," the Human admits, laying her head on Charon's. "You don't have to use that."
"Just don't use any wolf fur or make her look too savage," the Eeee notes. "Or maybe you should? I don't know how her psychology works at this point. But at least clean her up. All things considered, having her naked is the least distracting thing in this situation. I'll let you two sort it out though. I'm.. going to take the Tadpole and try to find the Dark Horse. They wouldn't have gone far. Probably hanging around right now since the battle is over."
"Have fun!" Tasha sits up and waves to the good Doctor, then turns to look at her hand as waving it reveals slightly she is now back up to five fingers on her left hand. I'll have to get used to this again, she considers, fingers wiggling as she stares at the limb. After a bit more of this she turns and resumes waving to the Eeee. "Tell the Tadpole I'm glad it came to help us, we would have been in trouble without the help! Be proud, Tadpole!"