There's another day of waiting while Mr. Invention takes care of some business. Part of this reveals itself in a box of cookies from Mrs. Teatime: beneath the cookies is a security envelope with Galactic ID cards (which are transparent until activated) for the crew. Tasha's lists her as belonging to House Fezzik, along with the cards for the Lapi, and even one for Reeka. A little digging shows that House Fezzik trades almost entirely in custom Mezzodes. The IDs for Katie and Hakeber are Terragens ones, including Gabriel's - the only one of them that didn't have to be forged. Shojo is provided with a Vartan one that conveniently puts him in Clan Erinyes with Lacci. The cards also link to the company credit account (or at least whatever one Mr. Invention set up to launder things through).
Is isn't clear if the Eeee is still shadowing them (although it's a given that Reeka is). There hasn't been any more contact with the more physical security types, but Mr. Invention claims to have taken care of things, and they'll be ready when it's time to ship out. Mrs. Teatime is not the traveling sort, or at least won't be traveling with them this time. She hardly needs to be physically present for her work though, and given her curiosity about Tasha and her companions it may be best that she not get close just yet.
For her part, Tasha handled the big items -- what she came back to do, what she was asked to do, the addition of Council members, and speaking to each contact to touch base and let them know that she is in fact still alive -- but has otherwise delagated anything below that. Part of it is recovery; while she's much better off than she had been prior to her death and during the trip back, her experience has still haunted her in tangible and intangible ways. She puts on her usual strong face, but has decided to avoid doing so until breaking down spectacularly again, and so has chosen to take it easy.
For the most part taking it easy has meant spending time with people, sleeping, eating, and acquiring personal items in a fun way, such as her desperately needed wardrobe. For the last entry she's stuck to the basics, as Mr. Invention and Liza have both suggested she'll find better clothes and interested designers on Ymir. She's also given dancing and magic some thought and has decided to make a note of things but hold off on further teaching until she's established on Ymir and has a chance to try and compare the magic Thoth thinks can be found there, which has been suggested to be the safest.
All and all it's been restful, if not totally restive; there's only so 'away from ship' she can feel on a station after all, especially a frontier station like Caltrop. Currently she's in Katie bed having just woken up, the young woman having made the effort to spend more alone time with her girlfriend, feeling she'd been neglecting her out of an uncertainty how to approach her.
"I can smell food," Katie rumbles. "I think they deliberately pipe it into the air system to drum up more business." The Surf-n-Turf does provide room service after all, for a slight markup. Tasha has no idea what things are costing either. That's Mr. Invention's world, and he hasn't really been open about sharing the details of it.
Tasha supposes if it were a problem she'd hear about it, otherwise to ask is to assume Mr. Invention can't handle things and she already saw how much he disapproves of being teased or suggesting, even accidentally, he may not be capable. "Do you want food?" The faux-Mezzode asks from Katie's side, having long ago laid her head there and been reluctant to move it. She has her datapad and has been browsing clothes and other necessities, like an undersuit.
"Is that a trick question?" Katie asks. "I have weeks of stress and the Void to make up for. I can work it off when we get to Ymir. You like a bit of extra softness, don't you? I'm not Hakeber soft yet."
"I like Hakeber soft too," Tasha admits, ears wiggling as she flips through yet another young womans' fashion page. Part of the difficulty has been figuring out where she fits in, the other is her distinct lack of fashion sense on any world. Her list has been curated by Liza and presumably Mr. I and Miss N., but she still finds it challenging. There's even the extra layers of 'which image am I projecting' and 'if I wear this for Gabriel will Katie resent it.' She tries and experiment; Gabriel likes her in skirts, so she shows one to Katie, "What do you think?" It seems to match very long shiny stockings made for Vartans, a close top, and a Vartan-style jacket and is popular with planet-side Vartan girls.
"Very.. street," Katie comments. "My father would never let me wear something like that, so to me it looks rebellious. I like skirts.. on women other than myself that is," she explains.
Tasha makes a show of lifting her head and looking Katie over, clearly imagining this. "A shame," she laments, settling back down and marking the outfit as a keeper, which she assumes will magically have it delivered, probably soon. "But I like wearing them so at least you're in luck." She flips through a few more, one of which is an actual dress. She remembers Katie likes dresses with slit-sides, and this one is in a loincloth-style with two large, long pieces bieces back and front, splitting apart just below the hips. It comes with short booties and some matching bangles. There's nothing tough about it; it is at best anti-tough. She shows this one too.
"Very pretty," Katie says with a grin. "Easy access. We could wear matching ones.. sing duets on pianos."
"How can I not order this now," Tasha says stabbing the 'accept' button so fast Katie can hear her nail click off the screen. The next few items are very basic; a very stretchy set of workout clothes with interesting patterns that supposedly help the skin 'breathe' and designed for a wide range of species, assorted undear that is likewise stretchy and ranges from the plain to the eyebrow raising -- something she makes no show of hiding -- and a series of booties, tops, jackets, and skirts as single items that are best described as 'business casual'.
"Looking forward to Ymir?" Tasha asks after a while.
"Real sky, real gravity, real.." Katie starts to say, then pauses. "Trees. I remember the trees on New Calafia but they didn't feel familiar. I'm not a jungle wolf."
"Real trees are like the trees in Charon. I think they must be extinct trees, because of something one of the others said. Creatures from Terra's past were there, creatures that are gone. I think Charon probably works like a backup for life, or, well, something like that." She stretches, lowering her datapad and snuggling in. "I bestow upon you the power of ordering food. Do not betray my trust."
"In myth, he's the ferryman to the afterlife, so keeping extinct species for himself seems.. appropriate," Katie says, and starts ordering things seemingly at random. "Barbecued bacon-wrapped ribs, a dozen eggs over easy, chicken-fried-steak, sausage.. uh.. strawberry crepes, Vartan coffee.. can you think of anything, Tasha? Oh, and a fruit cup."
"Yes that seems like just enough, I wouldn't want to get soft," insists the now considerably more elegant, some might say dainty, Aldara Tasha Argentine. She tries not to let her hunger show by looking to Katherine. "Think Lacci is okay? Last time she was here she almost ended up crying over it."
"She's got Shojo," Katie says. "That has to count for something, right? But her Clan isn't here anymore. So.. maybe that makes her feel more isolated. I don't know how Vartan's think, really. They go mad if they're separated from their group don't they?"
"The ones that can be are considered insane by Vartan standards. A Vartan that can stand alone is a Vartan who is abnormal." Tasha gets an idea, flips through her datapad again, then shows Katie what is simply a bow, a bow that glows, and then points at her tail. "Lacci's a little insane just for coming with us, but I don't think she can stand alone. We're her Caln now, so she isn't."
Eyes the bow. "You could go fishing with your tail wearing that," she notes. "Be sure to get the 'mood' one that changes colors."
"And be more obvious than I already am?" This is untrue, Tasha has become steadily harder to read as she learns to conceal her feelings, put on faces, and otherwise absorb the best and worst of Terran behavior. "But fine, on it goes." The pad goes back down and she settles in again. "Anyway Lacci hasn't left us. You saw how scared she is that we'd ask her to leave, that means we're her Clan now. And we should try hard to live up to that. I hope she'll like Ymir."
"Someplace to stretch her wings again," Katie says. "Honestly, Abbadon would be a relief after what we've been through."
"I almost find the giant monsters and killer diseases to be quaint," Tasha says, the last in a hoity-toity manner that works a lot better with her new body than her old. "Have you given thought to what you want to do, besides sit on the Council? Going to keep working in engineering?"
"I'm going see about spirit-charming," Katie claims. "Just to make sure I'm still charming. I need to get my edge back. And relax at the same time. I used to sing just for myself after all."
"Sam said you'd be good at sorcery, like Hake, but it's apparently a very broad field, so I think the two of you will go about it very differently. Hakeber's going to be books and rituals, I just know it; and she has that secret information we should try to take advantage of before we rid her of it." Tasha's tail pops up, and she amuses herself by swatting out it while having it swat back. "Charming spirits sounds like your area, to be enchanting. An enchantress."
"I will have to get a Korv for my familiar then," Katie claims, trying to sound haughty herself now. Then the door chimes. "Room service!" the intercom announces.
"En-ter," Tasha sing-songs, deciding at the same time Katie could use a little pet. Doubly, a little robot pet, although she's not sure how that would work with sorcery. It could go either way, she thinks.
The door opens and a cart wheels itself in, the door closing behind it. The clamshell top unfolds to release the overpowering odors of the food.
Tasha wastes no time reaching over to pull one tray over to herself, though once down she makes a great show of placing the fruit cup on Katie's own tray showing she both remembers and is still a smartass. "Thank you mechano-cart."
"Would you like me to fetch anything else for you?" the cart asks.
"Some cute girls and a adorable pet for my girlfriend," Tasha replies, still being a smartass and more so, a smartass who desires to fill her smart mouth with dumb food delivered by a smart robot.
"I can only carry one girl at a time," the cart says apologetically.
Katie rolls her eyes. "You are plenty adorable enough to be my pet, Tasha," she claims, and steals half the ribs.
"Oh well, don't worry about it," Tasha insists quickly, for food is calling. She steals the chicken while Katie steals the ribs, having great experience in such things living on a ship and thanks to Hakeber.
As far as being a pet goes, Tasha replies, "I accept."
The cart takes its leave, lest it get nibbled on as well. Katie is not her usual delicate, deliberate eater. She's making up for weeks of bland rations. "I don't even care if these came from a real animal," she notes as she gnaws and tears at the ribs.
Tasha doesn't have a comment on that because that would require talking. The meal is decimated in short order, leaving naught left but empty plates, discarded utensils, and only half eaten bones. "Nap time?"
She does seem to nap a lot more, but then Katie remembers that Tasha grew up on a ship and when she had nothing to do, she napped. Perhaps this new body is even more acclimated to intermittent wakefulness. Whatever the case, the young faux-Mezzode seems done for now.
It's always a little jarring to see the Dark Horse in its disguise as a Khattan yacht. The ship has been restocked under Moka's supervision, and most of the crew have returned. Mr. Invention is talking with the three new hires; Mr. Gold, Mr. Black and Mr. Pink. Miss Necessity has already boarded with Katie, leaving Gabriel and Tasha as the last of the original crew on the dock.
Tasha is dressed in the Vartan street outfit, making her look both fashionable and young, and far from the boss of anything and that's the way she likes it at the moment. As a last minute purchase she even bough a pair of long tube-like sleeves that fit around her arms from wrist to just below the shoulder, embedded with smart materials and interwoven electronics, allowing them to replace her datapad and match her outfit at the same time. And, now that she has two, she can multitask, which is boss-like and perhaps the sole reaosn she was allowed to get them at all. She stands beside Gabriel wagging, excited to be off. "Hello Mrs. GBP," she greets her newest hires.
"Is that to be our new designation?" Mr. Pink asks with a smirk. "The GBP?"
"If you like," Tasha says with a laugh, covering her muzzle as she becomes self-conscious of laughing too loud. The old Tasha laughed too loud. "You'll find I'm not prone to micromanaging. I'm hoping you'll enjoy your employment as well as finding it profitable and interesting." She's rather sure she can at least deliver on the interesting part.
"And will we have a special assignment, or is this really a 'shakedown' cruise vacation?" the human asks.
"You will be tasked to watch over us on our vacation. I cannot say whether your services will be needed, but you shouldn't rule it out. As a rule, we are never as safe as we may seem. No one ever is." The last sentence said with a raised finger, with gravitas that doesn't fit the fresh-faced twenty year old in casuals.
"I assume we'll be briefed on any threats to expect at least," Mr. Pink says.
"Once we're underway we'll introduce you to the others," Mr. Invention promises.
"I think we can arrange something," Tasha replies, looking to Gabriel a moment for confirmation. Some of their enemies are, after all, a little hard to accept. "But yes, lets be underway. Trees, sunshine, sky and rain are waiting for us, and I'd not keep the crew any longer than necessary." She waves people to hurry inside with a two handed shooing gesture, heading aboard herself.
Once the Dark Horse has left the nebula and entered FTL, people are called to the lounge. The Phins are there by telepresence, and the Jotoki are still in hiding (most likely down with the Tadpole). If the presence of the Lapi and Kavi surprise the mercenaries, they hide it well. One Mezzode is rare, but five together is unheard of (the fifth apparently being Samael in mini-Tasha-type form). Shojo stands next to Mr. Black, who can't sit after all. It's a show that he's the one in charge of the men. Lacci sticks close to Hakeber and Tasha, opposite Samael. Thoth stands in the doorway to his cabin rather than fully join the group, which places him somewhat behind the hires.
"Are we all here?" Tasha makes a show of looking around, looking small and very casually dressed despite being surrounded by mercenaries, oddities, and a ship that to all outward appearance would be staggeringly expensive -- to say nothing of its true value. She nods, satisfied, and then spread her hands, "Welcome to the Dark Horse, of Dark Horse Enterprises. I know you've been briefed on some of us, but let me welcome you with a more personal introduction."
"We are looking forward to it," Mr. Pink says with typical human forwardness.
"Excellent!" Tasha claps her hands together, smiling. "I suppose I'll start with myself, even though you probably know me. I am Aldara Tasha Argentine, owner of this vessel and Dark Horse Enterprises. I also help set policy, decide our overall strategy along side my aides, and provide direction. I'm also Mel's pilot; you'll see him down in the hangar. He'd say hello, but you know how Titan AIs are." She covers her face with her hands; they're shy.
"A Titan with a mind?" Mr. Gold says through his synthesizer.
"Oh of course. He's very kind and considerate," Tasha replies. She gestures to a nearby wall and states, "Lounge. It's me. Shuttle bay, Titan view focus. Go."
The 'windows' change to show the hangar, and the crouched form of Melchior. "I have never seen a Vartan Gryphon like that before," Mr. Gold notes. The implication being that he has seen plenty in the past.
"Then you and I will have to talk later about Titans," Tasha notes, then gestures behind the group of mercenaries, "One of my mentors, who happens to be find of Titans himself, Dr. Amuntaten, or his ... code name, Thoth. You won't speak with him often, but if you do, be sure to not waste his time."
The only response from Thoth is a slight whirr from his optics.
"A man of few words, if they are not important words." And so Tasha leave it at that, turning instead to the array of people behind her. "First, Gabriel Akkers and Katherine Vesuvius, my mates. I'm sure you know Gabriel well by now, but if you don't, he's our captain and has broad powers over related matters, crew and personnel, and contributes greatly to our overall operations. Katherine is our communication operative with an interest in engineering, entertainment, and public relations."
Katie nodes and gives a quick smile to the mercenaries. She's used to soldiers, but she's admitted that Hakeber has more experience with mercenary types.
Tasha smiles back even though it wasn't directed at her, then she turns to the two Phins who have been woefully left out of things lately, "This is Data Analyist Moka; besides her obvious work she is also second in command to Gabriel, so if he is unavailable please approach Moka. You'll find her level-headed and reliable. Speaking of reliable if not level-headed, the second Phin of screen is our pilot Kaa, the best pilot in the universe; try not to let him talk you in to bed."
"The bessst?" Mr. Black asks, confused. Mr. Pink smirks briefly, but must be familiar with Phins.
"You heard her!" Kaa ratchets through the display.
"he hasn't let us down yet," Tasha insists. Moving on, she turns to Yue and nods to her. "Dr. Yue Sen, our resident xenobiologist, xenoarcaeologist, and xeno-many other things, which is of course why she's on board." A grin at her own joke. "She also heads one of our exercise and training courses, but currently she is recovering from injuries sustained on our last voyage." Never far from Aaron and Liza, she includes them as well, "And on to more Mezzodes: Aaron is sort of like my mentor, it's complicated, but Liza is my personal assistant. They'll both be leaving us soon, but do say hello if you have the time."
"Once we're convinced Tasha has proper support," Aaron notes.
"It turns out I need a lot of that," Tasha laments, tail sinking and ears wilting. "And now you see why he's my mentor and complicated." She mock-sighs, but sticks her tongue out at Aaron, then turns promptly to Samael. "This is Sam. As you probably noticed, he and I share certain ... essential characteristics, although we aren't actually related. Different expressions of the same, you might say. And like many little boys, he is both cute and prone to being a pain." But then she raises a finger. "But he's wiser than he looks; be careful of his trickery."
"He will be an important part of your additional training in time," Shojo adds.
Sam just wags his tail.
"Something I am sure he is absolutely--" Tasha catches the tail. "See?" Her tail then points to his. "He's cute now but just wait. Ahem."
Turning again, Tasha looks to Lacci and Hakeber. "My dear friend Hakeber, the Karnor woman. Our resident scholar and researcher; like Sam, she is more dangerous than she looks. Unlike Sam, she is primarily dangerous to your food and alcohol." And to Lacci. "Lacci, my new friend. Our ... intern member, she's still finding where she fits in, but for the moment she focuses on providing basic education and inter-Galactic familiarity courses. Lacci is the Grunt's secondary pilot, with Shojo its first once his training completes." She gestures to the wall again, gives the command, and display the Grunt.
It is not an impressive machine, next to Melchior. It looks like it could be ten thousand years old (but only because it's been spruced up a good deal by Modo and Katie). "No AI to that one, I imagine?" Mr. Pink asks.
"Not as such. It's very useful when good old electromotive power, smaller size, and a lack of complexity are needed. Sometimes we run in to salvage or aid missions, and that calls for practicality." Tasha gives a thumbs up; she really has been spending a lot of time around Terrans. "Finally there are my cats, Creamsickle and Cookie. Cookie used to have another name but we unofficially gave her a new one when he started sitting and watching Shojo cook."
"Plus she sort of looks like a cookie," Tasha adds, in afterthought. "Do not take that as permission to eat her or Creamsicle."
Mr. Gold seems fascinated by the cats, but doesn't comment. Mr. Black bobs his head though. "Not eat catsss, yesss," he seems to promise.
"Good. I'm sure there will be plenty of small interesting things to eat on our journey, but we don't eat or harm the crew -- that goes for everyone by the way." Tasha then straightens. "And that's everyone! Shojo will see you to your quarters, the Lounge is free to use unless I or other staff or crew have reserved it, as is the galley, and certain areas are locked to the correct clearance -- Shojo will familiarize you with those as well." She then blinks. snapping her fingers. "Oh! And Dr. Thoth has an assistant, but he's very quiet and you'll almost never run in to him. A Naga. He's ... in charge of staff."
Tasha's grin is very wide and thin, almost seeming to be painful; clearly she's quite amused with herself over that joke.
Mr. Gold and Mr. Pink both look confused by the reference and Tasha's clear amusement with it. But before they can think about it for too long, Shojo is calling on them to follow him down to the main deck.
"You didn't tell me one was going to be a Silent-One," Hakeber whispers to Tasha. "I suppose I have to leave him alone?"
Tasha's reaches to clap again, only to be interrupted by Hakeber whom she cocks an ear to. "Who said that? Just remember who they are and what their job is, as long as it doesn't compromise our safety I'm not going to prevent anything."
Hakeber.. softly cackles to herself.
The flight to Ymir only takes a few days, which seems like no time at all after the last voyage. The mercenaries spent the time getting to the know the crew. Even Mr. Black was fairly social, for a Naga. Mr. Gold either did not pick up on Hakeber's subtle flirting, since it probably wasn't the same as whatever Silent-Ones did - or he just wasn't willing to encourage her further. He kept his personal distance more than the others did.
Mr. Invention and Miss Necessity (or 'Lupin Yves' and 'Felicity Ness' according to their Galactic IDs) surprised everyone by taking over the galley in the middle of the voyage to prepare a lavish dinner for everyone, claiming it was to get them ready for planetside cooking again. Samael joined in on everything, to keep up his disguise (for now) as a living being.
All of this has left Tasha in good, if well fed and thus sleepy, spirits. She even assisted -- if one could call it assistance and not hindrance -- Samael in his disguise by treating him like a little brother, which could various mean her personal stuffed animal, someone to tease, and, in moments of sweetness, walking with him hand-in-hand from place to place. For all her concerns about the entity, Tasha found she didn't mind it at all. She never forgot, but it also didn't bother her.
With docking so close at hand Tasha has put herself to the task of looking presentable, even fun. For this purpose she bought what was listed as a 'sun dress for Vartans' by a Terran design house specializing in cross-cultural projects. It comes with a big hat, ample wing space, a long dress with a skirt around the knee, and booties, all in matching shades of yellow, pale and welcoming like rows of wheat or the sun on a Summer's lawn. She added stocking and set her arm warmers to match the colors, and made her way down to the galley.
"We are entering orbit-t," Kaa announces. "Last chance to see Ymir before we get landing clearance."
The galley is fairly packed, since it wouldn't make sense for everyone to try and see things from the bridge. But the wall display is on and showing the world passing beneath them. The oceans are extremely blue, and the landmass coming over the horizon certainly looks like a continent. It has various colors (although green is predominant) and even what appear to be lakes and mountains and valleys.
This makes Tasha hurry, which also then makes her slow down because she can't really run in this outfit of her's. It's quite likely one of the cutest and girliest things she's ever worn, and she picked it both because she wanted to try something more relaxed, but also because she thought everyone seeing her dressed as she is might help them relax, too. If the leader looks harmless and fun, well, maybe they can have fun, too. "Oh, am I too late?" Hakeber feels Tasha's impact as she leans over her friend's shoulder to see.
"You missed the pink continent," Katie notes. She's also dressed rather casually in a tank-top and shorts, both with big pockets. The view is obscured briefly as they hit the upper atmosphere. "One more orbit to decelerate and we'll be down!" Kaa announces.
"Someone is looking cute," Tasha tells Katie, though given the way she's batting her eyelashes and then seize Katie's arm, who she means is intentionally vague. It's also this close that Tasha's big straw-like hat is visible, held by her tail on a strap. "Are you as excited as I am?"
"This place looks much bigger than an island that was mostly beach," Katie notes. "And it's all one big tree?"
The green mass has slid behind them as they descent. But reddish-brown one is peeking over the horizon, and looks very different. It's spiky.. but those spikes are probably giant growths in their own right. "That's Skree-chi-char, the Confederate tree," Moka notes over the intercom.
"I remember there are multiple trees each claim by different groups," Tasha explains, hanging on to Katie's arm and doing nothing to undermine the girlishness of her clothing choice. "That these trees have been here since long before the Galactics."
"Another made world then, I suppose," Katie says, sounding almost disappointed. "At least it has a moon. I've always wanted to see a proper moon in the sky."
"For someone who likes to make things you seem very disappointed by what others' have made." This causes Katie to get poked in the side, then Tasha tries tickling her because today is a zero-tolerance for sadness day.
The brown continent passes by - they must still be going ridiculously fast, even in the atmosphere. "I've never been on a natural world," Katie pouts in defiance. "Maybe it's the old Karnor in me, but I want something untamed."
The 'pink' tree is actual pink and purple and red. All bright enough to avoid look bruised at least, but the contrasting zones are almost like camouflage, making it difficult to pick out details. "Hakk'ri'rill," Moka whistles. "Vartan zone."
"You have me!" Tasha insists, an open-mouthed smile. In this case, the dress works against her; she looks fit to walk out of a neo-Renaissance painting and is that much less wild. "Oh fine." She lets go of Katie's arm and instead puts her arm's around Hakaber's, head on her shoulder. "Ready to relax, Hake? Want to visit cotton cand-tree?"
"Too much sugar makes me weird," Hakeber claims as she watches. "Do those colors look right to you, Lacci?" she then asks the Galactic Vartan in the room.
"Too bright, but maybe underneath the canopy it's better," Lacci replies.
"Dropping inertial stasis for final approach," Kaa announces - which also explains the apparent speed of things, if Kaa was using 'high' inertia to slow them down. The green mass of Yggdrasil is still just a line on the horizon.
So far Tasha's attempt to be cheer people on and be fun is decidedly not working. She isn't quite sure if it's because of everything everyone has been through, her own resiliency and experience, or that she's so eager to let go she might be coming on too strong. Whatever the case, she decides she isn't helping. Slipping off Hakeber she snatches up her hat from her tail and turns to walk out while she hopes no one is looking -- there's a much more fun way to land in a giant tree and for that she doesn't need assistance.
Tasha heads for the lower cargo bay -- and then hurries because it sounds like they're almost there.
No matter that they're no longer in freefall, the Tadpole bay is kept in a state of zero gravity at all times. The little hypership prefers it that way.
Freefall requires pushing off and managing being in a skirt, something Tasha isn't yet used to but the votes have been cast and she decides it's time to get used to it. After some maneuvering she ends up by the hatch -- the exit hatch. From here she furiously punches in connections to various ship-based resources, forwarding them to the Niss for calculation: Her wing load bearing, ship speed, atmospheric conditions, distance to landing zone, local map of Yggdrasil, her projected stamina. All for a single question:
Niss, let me know when I can step out the airlock and safely glide down to the world tree. The map is uploaded to her armband's computer and it's synced to local weather conditions, global location, and he ID is registered locally.
"Much more deceleration is needed," the Niss reply.. but also turn the bay 'doors' transparent so Tasha can see a non-projected view of things. Dark Horse is still at least twenty kilometers above the ocean top, which means it's going by just slowly enough for Tasha to make out features. The water is nearly transparent itself in its clarity, at least over this part of the sea which is probably shallow enough for light to reach the bottom. There are odd shapes below the surface, like fractal spirals that keep branching off. One particularly large spiral-contoured mound moves, with dozens on long tentacles reaching out from the horn of the spiral.
"Well Sam's probably going to love those," Tasha remarks out loud. The water is as clear as she's ever seen water on a world; even Sinai was never quite that clear, despite being a machine-regulated world and seeing very little pollution and sub-surface activity. It's times like this she wishes she wasn't such a 'sky-and-dry' sort of entity, but she supposes she can still pull out her swimsuit, get some equipment, and explore the deep the hard way.
To Tasha, the world feels alive in a way so stark that she doubts she could have felt it had she not visited the Halo. It feels like a bright light, like the sun, warm and shining, where the Halo was cold and dark. he never realized how much she'd miss a living world until it was so far from her she'd begun to forget them.
The ship is shedding altitude and speed quickly now, which means they may be getting close to the dock. "The landing docks are on the water," the Niss inform her. "Beneath the coastal canopy. It will be safest to exit five kilometers out, but it will put you well behind the ship. Did you wish to reach the dock at the same time as debarkation?"
"Naw," goes Tasha, who decides everyone might get more rest without their boss and source of dangerous adventure around. She can signal them later, which will give the others an excuse to go their own way and decide their own thing or risk waiting for her. She'll even tell them so later, if they ask. "Is there a park or something I can land in? I'll just say I got lost or saw something interesting." The more she thinks about it, the more she decides this is a great plan. Freeing the others of her presence frees them of the reminders, obligations, and memories she brings; likewise, it frees her of her obligations in return, letting her land on this new world with as clean a slate as she's going to get.
Still, she decides she ought to inform at least the security members and Gabriel of her touch down point and her intentions.
After she's decending, that is.
"This world has a customs process, you will still have to go through like everyone else," the Niss inform, "but there is a large zone around the docks that is independent of that where you can meet up with the crew."
"Can you mark landing sites for me?" Tasha looks down and it's already done. She's also disappointed about customs, but that's the price she pays for civilization. She decides to absorb the process as another reminder of being on an inhabited world full of life rather than a hassle, studying the touch down points and limbering her wings with some exercises as she gets ready.
At least she knows where the Dark Horse will be landing. There's also a timer counting down to when she exit at the very edge of her safety envelope, and another for a bit later when it will be too late to exit. The difference is only a few minutes, but it translates to leaving at nearly 100kph and 50kph.
Tasha decides to go with the safer choice and aims for the low end; besides, she's not sure her dress will survive the harsh wind at the upper boundaries! And so the window comes, she waits, punching in some last reminders, and then it's almost here and--
Deep breath.
Wings tucked.
Check sanity; seems okay.
Planet: looming.
Annnd ...
Out she goes!
Tucking wing and diving, she immediately works to align her wings with the air and ensure she's generating lift and not simply plummeting. The 'catch air, don't plummet' always being the most ominous part of any flight aside from landing, and it's been a while for her at least!
As she drops and slows, she sees the Dark Horse in its yacht disguise zipping on ahead in silence.. well, silence compared to the wind. The most disorienting part was passing from zero gravity to the edge of the ship's own gravity force field and then to actual normal gravity. From here though she can see ahead. The dock is indeed under the 'coastal canopy'.. but that canopy is still hundreds of meters above the dock, and instead of casting it in shadow there's more of a green stained-glass effect, with colored beams of light seeming to cast down as if passing through clouds.
It all makes for a beautifully illuminated -- and very large -- target. She might be rusty, and these may be new wings, but she'd give up flying if she couldn't manage to land on something that large. She descending in spirals until she's sacrificed enough height for speed, which she then exchanges for angle before dropping in to a steady descent towards distant shores.
The skirt does flap a lot, more than her wings do. But it's low-cut enough to provide air flow through it at least. The docks are full of both seagoing vessels (some larger than Dark Horse) and spacecraft. The spacecraft are mostly large shuttles however, providing ground-to-orbit service and often gaudily decorated. Some of the seagoing ships look more like floating casinos that working craft. The docks themselves are made of some sort of artificial material that floats, but the 'duty free' buffer zone before leaving the transit area proper is on actual wood.. or whatever passes for wood in a tree this big.
Tasha takes it all in. Docks, actual working docks and not purely recreational or space fairing use docks, aren't something she's ever seen before. Seeing them from the sky, along, as the wind whistles pass somehow makes the scene all the more real than any other dock in the last two years, perhaps because it lends the scene that slice-of-life, that part-of-life feel that many other had lacked, or else had a reduced quality of. She thinks maybe s'll try and paint the concept; maybe paint it here, shere it's been strongest.
With the scene getting ever closer, Tasha takes a moment to check her landing zones and make sure she doesn't zip right past customs and have to explain her inadvertent attempt at illegal entry. At least if it happens, her outfit -- which she really is very fond of -- is the fartheest thing from intimidating spyware.
There's a specific area for flyers apparently.. and for whatever reason it is near where the fishing fleet docks (which sort of makes sense, given the clarity of the water a Vartan scout would be far more accurate over distance than a fish-finder). She can also hear the high-pitched calls of Phins in the water.
Tasha makes that her arrival point and adjust her trajectory. The worst part of the flight is long past, so she's been able to get a feel for her wings, her weight, and how she moves against the air in this long and steady glide. Next time she dives she'll know more, and she suspects she might be doing a bit of it now that she's planet-side and air is not just for breathing.
As the ground closes she pushes down her skirt with her hands and holds her hat to her chest, readying herself for landing.
The booties and rubberized landing surface make for a non-climactic landing. Even if it's the first time Tasha has really landed since her rebuild, it still feels like she's done it thousands of times before. What she isn't prepared for, however, is first real deep breath afterwards. It nearly makes her dizzy due to the higher than expected oxygen content. But after that comes.. something felt in her chest. Almost as if she choking up about to cry. It really hits her then that Yggdrasil is a single, living thing. A tree god, something with an almost smothering presence to her.
After the dizziness passes, Tasha's nice landing causes her to take a moment to twist at the torso and really make sure she landed as well as she think she did, until the welling of something hits her. This she stops as she's about to plop her hat back on her head, instead holding it to her chest as if she were suddenly out of breath. For a disorienting moment she's not sure if she's about to cry because she's alive, because she flew once more, because the tree is alive, or because it is so very alive. In short order it becomes solidly the latter, and so she turns her head upward to peer in to the endless canopy, the branches, the living wood and for a moment wonders what's the feeling means, trying to put it to her memories, wondering if she might be intruding somehow.
It may come down to sheer scale. It was difficult to grasp the size of Charon and Persephone due to being inside them. But now she has that sense of scale, and it's utterly broken. Granted, Yggrdasil isn't an animal, but as plants go it makes the new Celestial Life Dome on Abbadon seem like a backyard garden. It just goes on and on, until she can't see any further due to extra layers of canopy finally blocking out the light - except there are still glimmers deeper in. Probably artificial light.
Tasha heaves silently, finally finding at leasts ome connection in her mind. Of all beings it reminds her somehow of both the Null and Charon when she first sensed some glimmering of his monolithic spirit; The Null, for it's incomprehensible vastness and how that chilling vastness manifested as real, physical distress, and Charon for the sheer weight of the complexity of life. While Yggdrasil doesn't chill her like the Null does, grasping its immensity is shaking in a way Charon never was. For all Charon's vastness, his nature as a child always seemed to soften the weight of his existence. Silent, immense, looming without menace, the great tree holds a kind of dignity and eternal presence she might liken to the Hall of Souls, yet alive and full. An eternal spring, the sound of rain. It's almost like seeing a spirit or memetic force personified.
It all takes the young woman several minutes to ponder through and recover form. By then people have moved about her, the world has continued in the way it always does on inhabited worlds. She sucks in a deep breath, pulls her straw hat from her chest, then sets her hats and makes her way towards the distant checkpoint.
She does get looks from the people passing by, but not anything like a rude stare. Of course, people can probably just take her picture by looking at her, just like she can do with the lens coating her own eyes. She also hears over her personal earbud, "We've landed Tasha. Pier 17." It's Gabriel's voice.
"I've also landed," Tasha replies, looking around, "Pier ... um ... 37." It's going to be a bit of a walk. "Why don't you all go ahead and get processed? You don't need to wait for me -- in fact it'd probably better the others see they can go off without me around. I think it's a good solution to helping them relax.
"Come meet us anyway, so we can go through the bureaucracy together," Gabriel says. "It's going to Mr. I handling it all anyway, probably with Liza next to him to show impatience. Sam is wearing lederhosen by the way, did you dress him?"
"No?" Tasha only vaguely knows what those are. She looks down at her legs; some kind of stockings? She hopes he isn't wearing a dress. "I'm coming, there's a ... " She peers around for signs of useful technology and spots a automated walkway. "Conveyor. I'll be there soon."
And then she hurries over to the walkway and off she's carried.
She reaches the end of the pier just as the group is first leaving the ship. They must feel something like she did though, because all of the Karnors (save Mr. I) immediately turn their heads canopy-wards and howl.
Tasha plugs her ears, muzzle wrinkling while she waits out the canid storm. When it dies down she waggles her hands at the lot of them. "You didn't have to wait for me. Well, shall we get going? I see you've felt the tree."
It takes a while for all of them actually get moving. Thoth seems the least affected, while Mr. Pink claims, "Man, this place really gets my ape up." Mr. Black looks around, and up, but isn't showing awe like the other mortals. Tasha is sure she can Mr. Gold purring. Yue looks calm, and so does Jonas: the Belter probably appreciates a ceiling to keep him from falling into the sky. Lacci and Shojo seem the most affected though, seeming to freeze up a bit. And Shojo at least has seen real forests on Sinai before. But this is more like a cathedral than a forest.
"It's really magic isn't it? Yggdrasil. It got me too when I landed, I've never felt anything exactly like it." Which, coming from Tasha, means more than most offhand comments of such nature. She gestures upwards. "Just large enough to begin to comprehend, too large to fully comprehend, life ancient and monolithic, the match for many ... other sort of things."
"It must be a million years old or older," Aaron suggests. "Trees don't grow fast."
"Still think trees aren't impressive?" Tasha asks Samael once she spots him; she even holds her hand out.
Samael frowns and takes the offered hand. "Too much life," he mutters. "I don't care for it. Feel like I'm being swallowed up."
"I feel it too, and neither of us need that feeling right now." It's the first time Tasha realizes both of them have been gobbled up, even if the nature of it is quite different. She pats Samael's hand. "But I'm sure the tree doesn't mean us any harm. These people have been here for a long time, and it, even longer. Big doesn't have to mean dangerous." And then she gestures ahead of her for everyone to begin walking.