The weather is mild, just on the edge of tropical, but without any of the humidity that is common beneath the canopy. The clear water of the sea causes the waves to flash in the sunlight like liquid prisms and mirrors (which is why anti-glare eye protection is suggested) and the breeze from across it carries less saltiness than is typical for an ocean.
Tasha has decided to take a break from her studies, the crew, plans, and even her loved onces to take a walk along the beach and explore both it and her feelings. It's bothered her for some time that she never feels as rested as she ought to during shore leave, the answer to which she thinks she has realized: Before she left her crew behind and had separation time from them, returning refreshed and happy to seem them; now, her crew, her family, and her organization are all one and the same, and she never is very far from them. Is is this realization that prompted the walk, but she has enough else on her shoulders that she thinks she might have ended up here anyway.
Whatever the case may be, Tasha is in her sun hat, sun glasses, with shorts, bootie-sandals, and the top of her black one piece swim suit acting as her top under a breezy light jacket of flowers and birds, in blue. The pearl was placed in Artifact Storage for safety, and she'll get to it in time. For now, she just wants to wander, feel the breeze, and experience being alone in a crowd where she's just another tourist.
There's not much of a crowd, and not many of them look like tourists. The people sharing the beach are mostly in uniform, probably workers from the docks and duty-free shops taking their lunch or just relaxing before, between, or after shifts. The Terran presence on Ymir is still small, and automation isn't as economically viable as having actual people do things. There are a few boats visible outside of the harbor, and jets of water firing up above the waves even further out. But otherwise there is a distinct lack of fauna for a beach.
A few humans are engaged in a distinctly human pastime: nude sunbathing. For any other species it would just be for the warmth provided by the sun.
At least I won't have to worry about being alone, Tasha considers, hands going in to the pockets of her light jacket. She observes the Humans with her keen vision, remembering the time when she woke up nude with exactly the same body, and how strange it was. How different. She wonders if Humans felt the same way she did, or if she felt that way because she had been something else. Someone else. Part of someone else.
Aside from vision, scent plays an important part of the observation. Each human has applied something to their skin to enhance the tanning effect while diminishing the 'solar radiation wants to kill you' effects. There are many scents that are new to Tasha as a result of this. At least there doesn't appear to be a ritual for applying it. They predictably use their hands, even though there are probably mini-drones that could provide full coverage.
Tasha remembers how sensitive Human skin is, and how fragile. She wonders if the Humans know that, that taking the risks they do is part of the fun, or if they don't realize it because they've never known anything else. She wonders what it means for and to her that she was a Human, once. It seemed to mean something to Mr. Ives, the ex-Human Karnor. Humans are the root of the Terragens, Eve's children, and she supposes her brief stint as one brought her closer to the heart of Terragen society, too.
Aside from the Humans, there is also a group of naked Pans, playing some sort of game that involves slapping the sand, then tumbling to one side, doing a back-flip and making a hooting sound. In unison, like some sort of hairy machine.
If Humans are related to Pans, Tasha doesn't think her Human inherited whatever it is that allows her to understand what the Pans are doing. She thinks it might be dance, or some sort ritual, but ultimately she doesn't know. And as she walks, she realizes her path has become metaphorical in a sense: The only one of her kind, walking between the others, some of which she'd been.
The further from the boardwalk she gets, the thinner the crowd becomes. There is a group of Karnors going the opposite direction, back towards the docks, but soon Tasha has left the casual beachgoers behind. She's nearly to the tip of the beach, before it meets the rest of the coastline beyond the lagoon.
Tasha supposes she may as well keep going. She can fly, for one, and her location is monitored. She's also the proud owner of a horrible yellow sword and a very soothing blue shield. And if she can head in to some place as awful as the Halo, she can walk a beach. She natural shore seems more welcoming somehow.
The sand gives way to something like a mangrove forest, if every tree was actually the same tree. There are mats of vegetation that provide a ground of sorts, if one that a bit wobbly.
It's not exactly easy going, but Tasha doesn't mind. Pushing ahead feels productive somehow, even if she's not really going anywhere. She tries not to consider the 'going nowhere' a metaphor as well, and manages to avoid letting the idea sink in.
And so Tasha keeps walking. At one point she muses about stopping by a coffee shop or a bakery on the way back, sitting and people-watching. It sounds nice.
Someone is singing further along. It doesn't involve words, but has something of a fluting quality to it.
The young woman decides this a very strange thing, since she's ostensibly beyond city limits. She's even a little surprised a warning drone hasn't zipped down to inform her she's either trespassing or leaving the city and ought to turn back. The music being a mystery, and she being drawn to mysteries like bees to flowers, she perks her ears and makes her way towards it.
It's coming from one of the floating mats that seems anchored by some of the tree roots, but also at the edge of the ocean.
And so Tasha moves to the edge of the water and hunches down, arms folded across her legs, and frowns at the source of the nose. "Are you a singing tree? Or maybe singing kelp?"
This causes the singing to stop, and there's a splash. But then a wispy voice notes, "Coast trees cannot sing."
"So coast kelp can sing," Tasha confirms, nodding slowly as if the mystery had been solved. She lays back and stretches out. "Well that's one less mystery in the universe."
"Is it?" the voice asks, moving around a bit along the waterline.
"It might be. I've never known a talking stretch of floating seaweed to lie to me before," Tasha insists. She yawns, cavernously, then makes herself comfortable, hands folded on her chest and looking at the sky. "And if you can't trust mysterious voices, who can you trust, really?"
"Do you hear lots of mysterious voices then?" the voice asks. "What do they tell you to do?"
"Well," begins Tasha, whose fingers wiggle against each other, " ... this last one asked me to follow him in to a forest. Another time it was really just a dead dragon's ghost. Sometimes I hear the words of my pirate lover; she's dead now, too. Oh and my sister, she used to be dead. Then there was a god, but it actually wasn't a god, but a test. I'm still mad about that. Out in the void, I heard things, but those were demons -- inside ones and outside ones."
"What sort of things do they tell you?" the voice asks. "Do you want me to tell you something?"
"My lover mostly complains about how my life is unusual and critiques my interest in men and women. The dragon told me about his horde. The not-god wanted to see if I could be corrupted; it's dead now, so the answer was probably no. The demons tried to make me doubt myself and feel bad; you know how demons are." Tasha takes a deep breath and shifts her hands, making sure they're not locked together. "Tell me something, O voice."
"Do not overcook your owls," the voice says, sounding closer. "And come into the water. It's nice in the water. You'll float."
Tasha's hackles raise, but she's feeling defiant of danger now that it's intruded upon her quiet time. She sits up and steps closer to the water, hands forward to help herself down, but also to have them ready should she need to manifest something. She removes her coat and booties, putting them aside as a marker for where she'd been in case someone needs to find her. Then, she slips in the water.
"Here I am," Tasha says, feeling the Markers -- or soul stones humming just beneath the surface of her being.
Something breaks away from the mat. It just looks like loose vegetation until the forehead appears. It's very pale, and then the eyes rise about the water, big and violet. "You're the one Molly guides," the voice says, though the mouth is still below the waterline.
"Yes." Tasha treads water, her gaze focused on the being in front of her in what might be mistaken for lazy, almost sleepy interest, but Blackwings would have known it for something very different. "I hope that's not a problem between us?"
The violet eyes never blink. "He takes you to the Halfworld temple," the voice comments. "Why?"
"I am sworn not to say." Tasha remember's Kainudy's lessons, and one of those lessons is that faeries can't lie, not without destroying themselves. She hopes it's enough cover her now. "You know how it is."
"I do not know, else I would not have to ask," the voice replies. "Is Molly doing things to you? Did he give you those hooves and wings?"
"Well, I cannot say. It is something I have agreed to." Tasha doesn't risk glancing down at herself. "I've always had hooves and wings; I just have them differently, now. You seem to think I shouldn't have them; why is that?"
"The other wolven do not have them," the voice notes. "And you did not grow a fish tail when you entered the water either. I want to know what is going on between you and Mollymauk."
"You'll have to ask him, he's very talkative," Tasha insists, and she slowly starts backing away towards the shore. "But I cannot say."
"He is hard to catch," the voice notes, as the figure comes closer as Tasha backs away. "I've tried before. He needs to fix me."
Tasha begins using her wings to back peddle now, beating water so she can keep her hands free and between her and the entity. "Maybe I can talk to him for you. What did he do to you, and why?"
The figure rises up further, revealing a slender humanoid with very pale skin, and vines for hair (although there is a lot of other vegetation involved, it isn't clear if it's part of it or just stuck in there). "He needs to fix me," the breathy voice says, coming from the female's belly, which splits into lips. There's no mouth on her face, just smooth skin below a rather flat nose. She has an extra set of eyes were nipples would normally be.
Tasha's brows arch; she certainly hasn't seen this before. Yet, she has met many unusual beings, many what others would consider monstrous, and she didn't have to kill them. Perhaps she can avoid violence this time, too. There's room for diplomacy, she decides, even as she keeps herself ready and makes for land. "Why did he do this to you?" She rather hopes the man is around to answer for himself.
"I am Unseelee," the creature notes. "I lost a fight, and he did this to punish me."
"Losing can be harsh, I once lost my life, and now I am something else." Tasha hopes some commiseration and understanding can help defuse things, but she still feels the tingle of danger imminent. " What's an 'Unseeleee'?"
"The fae belong to either the Seelee court of the Unseelee court," the creature notes, drifting closer. "The fae are not nice. The Unseelee are very not nice."
"I know the types." Tasha keeps heading back, getting ready to return to land. "So you were in some sort of factional conflict and you lost to him, and he did this. Is there no one among the, um, Unseelee court you could turn to for assistance? My magic would be of little use to you." It makes the red woman's skin tingle to say 'my magic' after so long of experiencing the magic of so many other things and beings. It feels like she's joined an exclusive club, and she might wag her tail if she didn't think she's about to be attacked. "I have no ability to make Molly do anything he does not want to."
"The Unseelee do not help one another without exacting a price," the thing says, raising its arms. It has very long, green nails. "We are monsters. Not gods like the Sidhe. If I have you, he will do as I wish to see you free, will he not?"
"You're missing something," Tasha points out, holding her ground now that the danger has made itself real. She keeps her hands out, but doesn't manifest yet. She wants her weapons and defenses to be a surprise; there is much advantage to be had that way, she's been taught.
"You are not of the Tuatha de Danaan," the creature notes, drifting closer. It's knees are at the waterline, but there's no telling what those legs end with. "You are a mortal thing. What am I missing?"
Tasha's hand bends downward slightly, she waits until the being is just close enough -- and then she manifests the sword as she lunges the blade forward in an attempt to skewer the fae!
"I hunt demons," the young woman hisses.
The thing bends to the side unnaturally, but still gets struck in the arm. It hisses and retreats, trailing a black cloud from the wound. Then it vanishes down into the water.
Tasha takes the opportunity to retreat to shore, standing on the edge of the ocean like some bathing hero interrupted in her swim, ready to fight the chaos of the sea. The dire blade shines in the daylight in a yellow that has none of the warmth and nurture of the sun. "You had your chance to speak with me peaceably; do not cross me again or I will hunt you, too. Tell your friends."
The voice doesn't reply. But for once it wasn't her enemy, technically. Just one of Mollymauk's. Who didn't bother warning her.
"Fae," Tasha complains, the blade vanishing as she picks up her clothes and puts them on. She decides now is a good time to return to town and calls in a air cab to pick her up knowing the fae are unlikely to show themselves with the machine present.
The resort area is littered with little cafes, all with outdoor seating. Some of them are just the seating with virtual menus. But the most popular ones usually have live entertainment (and servers). And then there's the Puppy Parlor: a cafe staffed entirely by teenaged Karnors in cute, colorful outfits. On roller skates. But there are also actual puppies of actual non-sapient dogs to play with.
Tasha decides to have her cute and cuddly before transitioning to burning her evening away with live entertainment. In this way, she hopes to release some of her inner anxiety and murderous intent by burying it in the adorable and the huggable. She doesn't even bother to change, though she does at least wait until she's dried out, and enters the Puppy Parlor.
There is a lot of barking that greats her from one of the puppy pens, which are usually full of children. The canines are clearly excited to see Tasha. They're excited to see anyone who might play with them. A pink-furred Karnor girl with a curly tail skates up to Tasha and asks, "Welcome! Would you like a table, a booth, or a pen? And wow, do those wings work?" Her name tag reads 'Pinky', which is at least appropriate. She's wearing a ruffled skirt made of silvery metallic fabric, suspenders and a rainbow tube-top that keeps changing colors and patterns.
Tasha smiles as she decides this is just where she needs to be right now. "I would like a booth for now, and if I may, a puppy." And then she flaps her wings once and extends one for the young woman to inspect. "I'm very real, as it happens. Well, mostly real." Her smile turns lopsided, then she quickly pushes it back to friendly as her killing edge sneaks up on her suddenly and she slips back in to suggestive threats without quite realizing it. To prove she really is friendly, she even wags. See? I wag. I'm friendly.
"Right this way then!" Pinky says, and brings Tasha to the side of one of the pens where many puppies vie for her attention. "They're all a bit 'bunctious today, unless you'd like an older one that is more relaxed."
"Oh, I'll have that when I go home." Tasha reaches in and rummages around until she has a black and white puppy with floppy ears, a cold wet nose, and blue eyes. She knows from Nora's memories and her long talks with the Elite that Humans have had dogs for ages, and that they come in various kinds, and that modern Karnors are based on them, though she doens't know what the kinds actually are. She picked the one she has because she's cute. "We'll see how this one and I get along."
The puppy is very expressive (since dogs evolved new facial muscles to be more appealing to humans) and is like a wagging machine. She tries to lick Tasha's face as well. Pinky then takes them to a booth, which has a box of toys on it a C-shaped table, with the inner area having an extended puppy area for convenience.
Tasha allows the licking, hoping none of the others are somewhere being jealous for reasons unknown to them. After seating she places the puppy in her lap and tries one of the dog toys, which does sort of make her want to chew on it, but she abstains in favor of letting the puppy play. Her other hand runs across her head and back in gentle pets, and she's surprised to find how much it calms her.
There's a menu that appears in the air above the table once Tasha is settled, but Pinky says, "If you like, most meals come with special side dishes for your puppy pal. Or would you just like something to drink?"
"I'd like a sundae and something for my little buddy here," Tasha replies, ruffling up the pup's head. She then looks at the puppy a moment, then picks her up and gives her a hug, too. For some reason she thinks of Mariel.
"What flavor and toppings would you like?" Pinky asks, in a tone that suggests Tasha made the best choice of treat.
Tasha frowns at the menu with the obsessed focused only Karnors ordering food can muster. "Cosmic chocolate, very vanilla vanity, and strawberrylicious, with hot fudge and sprinkles. And a cherry. I'd like a puppy sundae as well, because I would fele left out if someone ate a sundae near me and I didn't have one."
"We have special ice cream for puppies, don't fret," Pinky claims. "I'll have that out to you in two wags!" And then she skates off, doing a sort of spin since she starts by going backwards away from the table.
Tasha wonders if she should learn to skate as she watches the younger woman race off, but then she remembers she has a puppy to play with and so enters a kind of protracted paw-to-paw push, pet, and belly rub fest as she mock wrestles the dog with her hands, and rubs her belly, then let sher get back up so she can wrestles her (and get play bitten) all over again. It's entertaining, cute, and without depth, and what she was hoping for when she came in.
The puppy is also a lot more engaged and forgiving than the ship cats. And her growls are cuter than hisses. It seems all too soon when the sundaes show up. The puppy version lacks hot fudge, but comes in a wider and shallower bowl. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Pinky asks as she serves the treats. There's even an extra little 'pitcher' of hot fudge for Tasha.
"I don't know, this is my first time," Tasha admits as she looks up while trying to retrieve her hand so she can pass the bowl to the puppy. Eventually she does get it free and the puppy sundae is placed, surely saving her hand from further gentle chewing so she may eat her own sundae in relative peace.
The puppy licks the ice cream more carefully than Tasha's face at least. "Your first sundae or your first puppy?" Pinky asks.
"My first puppy, my first time in this store, and my first time on Ymir," Tasha replies, smiling. She bets Hakeber would appreciate an outfit like the one the server is wearing. "Are those outfits for sale? I have a friend who would probably enjoy one."
"Well.. I didn't make it by hand," Pinky confesses with a wink. "But I did get all of it locally at the mall. Even the skates!"
Tasha laughs a little. "I'm sure she won't mind either way. Hake isn't the most exacting of clothing shoppers." She then looks around for a moment, seeing how busy the store is, and then nods across the table from her. "Maybe you could tell me about Ymir? Have you lived here long?"
"I'm actually a native," Pinky claims. "Which means I think other places must be more interesting, of course. But I've been plenty of safaris and camping trips. I'm Valkyrie Scout. Well, was, when I was younger. Troupe Midgard, even though I wanted to be in Troupe Nidhogg with some of friends. There's a lot of unexplored area, and mapping drones are slow, and stuff changes all the time so maps are never up to date. It's just so big. I know most worlds don't have three-dimensional terrestrial environments!"
"Some do, but not many inhabited worlds, except those with previous Galactic Era ruins. I've visited a asteroid that was largely hollow, and a world where the entire surface, from plants to the ocean, to structures, were all artificial and controlled. I do often find I miss living, natural places; it's why I'm here on vacation," Tasha confides before dogging in to her own sundae and giving a little what can you do shrug.
"I never heard of any places like those," Pinky says, wagging her tail. "You must be part of a xeno-archaeology type group? Civvies never get to go to places like those."
"I'm Mezzode in charge of a for-hire ship service. Our yacht is very fast, you see, and of interest to a great many xeno-archeology groups, scientists, and others who need to reach distant shores relatively quickly. We recently returned from the Galactic Halo," the 'Mezzode' explains. She twirls her spoon indicatively. "Seeder work. I enjoy working with them, and the scientists and archaeologists, too. It feels like we're accomplishing something."
"Wow! So what do you do? Are you a scholar-wrangler?" Pinky asks, her bandeau flaring with color and interference patterns.
"I'm the owner, technically, I oversee our overall mission, confirm clients, meet with clients, select crew, and do other things. I do look after our guests, it's important they're comfortable." Tasha does not add 'and alive'. "I'm not technically part of the crew, so I try to stay out of their business. I've been doing a lot of studying lately. I'm actually not any older than I look; a lot of people assume I'm much older than I am."
"You don't look much older than me though!" Pinky yips. "And I still live with my parents."
"You can do a lot with a lot of luck, stupid bravery, something to believe in, and drive," Tasha says with a smile, reaching over to pat the young woman's shoulder encouragingly. "If you can handle the pin, at least. But," and she sits back, " ... there's a lot to say for peace and reliability. This world is relatively quiet. You can live well. In different times and different places, that's not always so. There's a lot to like about peace and quiet."
"Peace and quiet?" Pinky asks. "Here? Everyone I know is in a band. Including me. We're very noisy here. And Yggdrasil is haunted as well. I hear the other world-trees are as well."
Tasha grins at that. As for peace and quiet, she doesn't have the heart to ruin this young woman's understanding of the universe. It's for people like her to shield people like this from the horrors of reality, so that they can exist in peace. "The faeries? Do you think they exist? Maybe sea-hair, purple eyes, a stomach for a mouth? Or an obnoxious satyr who cares deep down?"
"I don't know what a faerie is, but I've heard things on those camping trips," Pinky claims, leaning in to whisper. "There aren't any animals. So what could scream and growl and play pipes?"
"Faeries, of course. But be careful of them, and don't chase the music," Tasha says, ending with a hint of warning. "Some stories say they abduct people, that they can use strange magic, and that they play pranks. That there's two courts, and they hate each other. It doesn't sound safe to me." And so the explorer hopes this warning may keep Pinky from just such a fate. "Take it from me."
"But you're here on vacation?" Pinky asks. "Not investigating something?"
"Well, I do like to learn the local stories and history, at least on the archaeological level. When you've seen as many ruins, artifacts, and alien mysteries as I have, you get a nose for them and you find yourself sniffing around even when you're supposed to be relaxing." Tasha's never taken time to talk to someone young about her adventures before. It does make her feel older, but also like some sort of mentor in the proper way, and not on the tease-Lacci-until-she-grows-a-spine sort of way. "If there are faeries here, I'd say it'd be dangerous to investigate without the right equipment and know-how. The forest is very nice, however. I've taken walks deep inside it."
"Oh, there are all sorts of out of the way little groves and things," Pinky agrees, as things drift towards her knowledge base. "I found one once with a pond covering in giant floating flowers. Flowers! Big enough to wear as a dress."
"That would be a very cute dress," Tasha admits, tail wagging. "It's nice to be able to wear something other than a uniform, a space suit, and powered armor. I can relax on the ship, but it always feels like I'm working, a bit."
"Oh, I wouldn't try to wear one, they're just flowers," Pinky is quick to say. "Getting a regular dress that looks like one would be better. They've very pink, the flowers. And you make tea from them, supposedly. I don't drink tea so I never tried it."
"I drink tea now and then; we have a tea set for guests on the ship." Tasha checks her puppy to make sure she's doing okay, leaning over with her brows up as she has a look. "Flora and fauna on alien worlds can be very interesting. I remember one world where it was synthetic and controlled by a master system, and another where the plants tried to eat people."
"People-eating plants?" Pinky asks, looking skeptical. "What would they eat if there weren't any people around?"
The puppy is still licking her ice-cream dish clean, probably for the second time.
"I think they're not natural, and they eat other things, like local animals. I don't usually spend time on wholly natural worlds, you see; most researchers and other interested parties want to go to ruin worlds and other sites of prior civilization. Natural scientists hardly need to hire people like me to visit a relatively safe, nearby world, after all. Though," here Tasha looks up, finger to the side of her muzzle, "I suppose if there was a natural world in a far flung part of the Galaxy, that would qualify. How now an experience that would be. Not that natural dangerous aren't dangers, but they don't have the advantage of xenotech."
"Terra is a natural world," Pinky notes. "And.. well, nobody has found ruins on Ymir. At least none they told anyone about. But it's a big place."
Tasha doesn't dare say anything of Terra, not to a Terragens, and not even if she wasn't. As for Ymir, she remarks, "It's suspicious there are no flying creatures anywhere on this world. The trees themselves are very unusual, but possibly not beyond reason. My gut says 'prior-civ world,' though I'm uncertain which civilization or civilizations nor how old it is. I recall viewing an artifact vessel made of wood, so possibly them."
"You mean a boat?" Pinky asks. "There's not a lot of non-aquatic life in general here."
"A spacecraft. Very strange, but clearly capable of starflight and possibly possessed of an FRL system. It was very old, and I have no idea if it worked, or even how." Tasha pops some ice cream in her muzzle and shrugs her shoulders; who knows how the wonders of the ancients worked? "I do wonder if the trees act in some sort of regulatory capacity. With full access to all of the land, water filtration and control, and the same for the air, they could exert a lot of influence on the world's flora and fauna."
"Well, in school we learned that Yggdrasil doesn't need any pollinators, and doesn't really provide any fruit or nuts. There are parasitic vines and other flora, but they're also self-pollinating," Pinky notes. "So nothing much for animals to use, unless they just eat leaves. I don't know what it's like on the other continents though."
"Control can often look natural, especially if it's done very well. But, of course, if it's done well it becomes hard to know the truth, so ... " Tasha shrugs with her hands palm up. "Maybe the giant tree will tell me, some day? Stranger things have happened to me." She winks, then plants her head on one hand while the second shovels ice cream in to her face. She does this for a moment, then looks over and thinks to ask, "Does my second doggy buddy also want an ice cream?"
"Second.. oh, do you mean me?" Pinky asks and wags her curly tail.
Tasha is momentarily stunned by the level of cuteness she finds herself surrounded by, including even herself. These sorts of things just don't happen often enough for her difficult life. She points her spoon. "Yes, you, Miss Pinky. Would you like an ice cream? I feel bad eating in front of you, and I am taking up your time."
"Well, you're the only one here right now," Pinky rationalizes. "So I'll take my break and join you then!" She wags again, then skates off to the counter.
Tasha's puppy takes the opportunity to pass gas. But at least it isn't stinky. Just a little frrrrt sound.
Tasha sits up and asks after Pinky, "I was thinking of attending one of the local eateries, the ones with live entertainment. I-" She pauses at the gas, has to choke down a laugh, and manages to finish with, " ... we could do that instead if you've had enough ice cream." The puppy then gets petted, but not eating-disruptively petted; Tasha hates when people do that to her.
Pinky is soon back with a layered ice-cream drink. It's got a cookie wafer sticking up out of it as well. "Well, that'd take more time than my break," she says as she sits down. "But I'm off around dinner time. You wouldn't happen to be from the fancy yacht that landed a few days ago, would you?"
"Aldara Tasha Argentine II, owner of the Dark Horse, at your service," Tasha introduces herself with a smile before biting the cherry and placing aside them stem. Nora's memories strongly suggest she not eat the stem. "Does the ship interest you?"
"One of my brothers is a spotter, and he couldn't figure out the make for it, but it has a black chess piece on it," Pinky says, grinning. "I guess it's Khattan then? He'll be fluffed to know that. He's always wanted to see a Khattamaran."
"It's a unique vessel. Because of that, it was decided its best use is as a special hire. I'm glad a lot of people are appreciating it as much as I do," Tasha says, returning the grin. "We even have a mixed crew: Karnors, Vartans, Mezzodes, Phins, and others as well, now and then. You could say we're a bit of an experiment. It's also good for demonstrating we're open to a wide clientele."
"Does it have one of those Khattan personality A.I.s?" Pinky asks between slurps on her straw.
"The AI is a bit more convoluted than that. Not very talkative, but wise. My Titan has more of what you'd call a 'Khattan-style' personality, but that's probably because he adapts to me as a piot. He doesn't have to be a 'he' or even seem humanoid or relatable, after all. I really should tell him he doesn't need to do that anymore unless he wants to, but you know how AIs can be." Tasha shrugs with her hands again. She continues on her ice cream, which is now down to the last ice cream ball, strawberry.
"I do not know how they can be," Pinky claims. "I only see them in holoplays, and that's probably fake. But.. what's this about a Titan?"
"I have a big Titan. He's in the Bay, probably sleeping in low-power mode. Fourty-feet tall, looks like a giant Vartan. An old relic from four-thousand years ago," Tasha explains, swirling her spoon as if that would help explain things better, or perhaps indicates that she's encompassing something, "I just wish I got to pilot him more. Heavy lifting and giving it to Galactic fauna seems beneath his dignity."
"But.. you could climb the tree with it," Pinky suggests, wide-eyed. "A Vartan? Does it fly?"
"Big firey engines and everything," Tasha confirms, her flattened right hand soaring upward. Then it's her turn to be incredulous, "isn't there a prohibition against climbing the tree? Has no one done it, or something? Is it that rare?"
"Uh.. we're mainly a Terragens colony here," Pinky points out. "We don't have Titans. And the tree is really big with very thick branches. A Titan would still be tiny in comparison. But it'd be fun to watch.."
"And a bit dangerous," Tasha decides. She leans back, considering. "It'd be a lot more exciting if there was a hidden ruin, or secret control center, or crashed alien spacecraft no one can reach because the tree swats ships away and blocks scans. That would be exciting."
"If it blocked scans, how would anyone know?" Pinky asks.
Tasha points at her eyeballs. "Bio-organic flesh spheres," she says, more than a little ominously. Then she eats some whip cream.
"Nobody's mapped the interior of the continent yet," Pinky points out. "We've only been here a few centuries, and our populating is too small. Well, not too small but we're within our sustainability profile, given that you can't exactly grow things here, so most plants have to be imported down from orbit."
"Okay," Tasha says, nodding slowly, but with increasing speed, "this is beginning to sound like the beginnings of an exciting adventure. I admit, I really would like to know if there are civilized ruins deep in the interior. Maybe a hidden tree control center? Or a fleshy, organic center with a living heart slash control computer! Oh, or a starship factory. Maybe some ancient pottery."
"Vampires," Pinky says, lowering her voice and looking around. "That's why there aren't any animals. Or, some sort of tree dragons."
"Tree dragons would be very spooky," Tasha agrees, lowering her voice. "Ancient beings crushed by equally ancient memories, unholy regrets of destruction and countless bodies across time and space! They'd probably keep eating my pizzas, when Hakeber isn't doing that!" Tasha spreads her hands, fingers wiggling, "Or strange fae with eyeballs for breasts and green hair who live in the sea!" She pauses, then, more seriously, adds, "If you meet a green haired woman by the sea who asks about me, tell me immediately and don't go anywhere with her."
"I never go down to the sea shore," Pinky declares, her fur puffing slightly. "There must be baby krakens, so it follows that there might be some hunting in shallow waters. I thought tree-dragons were just.. dragons that looked like tree branches when they aren't moving. Like the faces. Did you know some of the tree branches look like they have faces?"
"That's very weird. Well, except that it's a huge tree and mathematically it's probably inevitable, but maybe an ancient civilization decided to become a tree. Or, the tree ate them. Or it copies their memories. Really, ancient devices do a lot of very strange things." Tasha finishes the last of her sundae and sits up, checking her other doggy companion and how she's doing. "I'll see if our new mercenary captain is up for a trek in to the jungle. I think he had wanted to anyway, and perhaps doing so will help us in other ways. I'll ask the others."
"Please put up a notice on howlnet with a 'safari' tag if you do!" Pinky asks. "I like the idea about an ancient civilization of giants that turned themselves into the tree."
"I'll pass that on to my people. I'm sure several of the Karnors would enjoy writing that up. Katie, maybe." Tasha nods, then rubs one arm with the hand of another. "I've been gone a while, so I'd best be heading back. I'm sure they're monitoring me, at least nominally, but they do worry when I head off on my own for a long enough time. How about we meet up tonight? If you want to bring friends, that's fine, or you can get just me if you want."
Pinky pulls something that looks like a pen from her pocket: a metallic stylus of some sort. "Let me give you public vox code," she says, holding the stylus out like a want. "Do you have a PDA? I suppose you could have one build in though.."
"I have routing through the ship and are listed as a local visitor thanks to the port authority. I'll have my PDA take that now." And so Tasha reaches out and poke the wand with a finger, getting her armbands to recognize it. She then taps her arm to confirm the data exchange. Pinky receives a rather formal contact identification for an Aldara Tasha Argentine, Owner and Operator of Dark Horse Enterprises, species Mezzode, with a nice portrait of her in her uniform looking serious and business-like. "As a warning, checking my background and-or contacting me will subject you to some review. My people can be protective."
"I figured you'd call me if you wanted me to get the word out about anything," Pinky says. "And thanks for the treat, too. It's my favorite." Tasha's other booth-buddy is back in her lap and jumping up to try and lick her face now.
This earns the puppy a big ruffling up, complete with talon massage, and muzzle-nuzzle. When Tasha is done she hugs the puppy, ploping her head on her head as she looks over at Pinky. "Well I'll do that too. But just in case, you have my contact now. They'll know who you are, in case anything happens, or you need to reach me. It's mostly a formality, but sometimes our guests and associates run in to problems, you know? I like to be cautious. I'll send you the meeting place in a fw hours."
"Will your crew be with you too?" Pinky asks, tail wagging again.
"They could be. Katie, Hake and possibly Lacci would be the most comfortable to bring, I think. Unless you'd like to meet everyone, then we'll need a larger venue. I suppose the Phins would really appreciate being part of things. And you're welcome to being any friends you think might appreciate it. Your brother, too, if you like," Tasha answers.
"Sweet!" Pinky says, and then taps the side of her nose. "I won't tell anyone anything until I hear from you though."
Tasha smiles at that. "It seems like you understand how things go, and I appreciate it. " Tasha rises, then very carefully offers the puppy back to Pinky. "Thank you both for your time. It helped me remember something I'd forgotten."
Holding the squirming canine, Pinky laughs and asks, "What'd you forget?"
"Why what I do is important. It's like the forest; maybe you don't like the big tree, and because it's so big you can forget all the little places, the little flowers and vines and shady ponds. And because you forgot, you think maybe it's not worth much, then you remember all the other things and you remember why you liked the tree in the first place." And so Tasha taps the side of her head. "I spend a lot of time seeing the remains of civilizations, big problems with big solutions. Sometimes I forget there's more than just 'big' things, and that they're important, too."
"Even the ones that aren't housebroken?" Pinky asks with a wink.
"Sometimes especially," Tasha replies, winking back. She then gives Pinky a smile and nods towards the door. "Off I go, to the worried stares of the others I'm sure. See you later, Pinky."
The Dark Horse is quiet, since most of the crew are out and about, except for those that need to do research not using public data networks, or distractions. But Tasha knows that Hakeber is aboard, since she gets a notification of who's around when she enters.
Thinking it might be time to ask Hakeber if she wants food and entertainment, while also thinking the answer is so obvious it may as well have been written on the side of the ship, Tasha makes her way through said ship while asking the ship where Hake currently resides.
"Hakeber is currently in her cabin," comes the prompt reply.
"Thank you!" Tasha thus makes her way to Hakeber's cabin, which won't be her cabin too much longer once the ship is reorganized to accommodate the laboratories and living spaces requested by the crew.
Upon arriving at Hakeber's quarters, Tasha hits the intercom. "It's me, Hake."
"Come in quickly and close the door behind you!" Hakeber barks.
Tasha simply walks in and hits the button for 'close' as she passes. her brow does arch, if just a little. "Something amiss, Hake-bear?"
Hakeber is on the floor, trying to look under her bed. There some books on top of it (real ones, probably from the library she mentioned) and every drawer in the room seems to have been opened and the contents strewn about. "It has to still be in here," the Karnor growls.
"Does it have to be?" Tasha settles on to the floor and peeks under the bed. "What is this 'it' and why does it still have to be here? And have you considered Reeka?"
"Reeka steals things, and doesn't turn out the drawers and toss your underwear around," Hakeber says. "My door was locked when I left, and locked when I arrived. So whatever did this has to still be in the room, right?"
"Unless it can pass through walls, air ducts, or is a higher dimensional being. There's also ... Well, I'll help you look." Seeing as how Hakeber has the physical searching under control, Tasha begins her supernatural search by using her third eye, also known as that weird symbol on her forehead connected to the weird stuff in her brain. "Just so I know, what are we looking for?"
"I don't know yet," Hakeber claims. "A gremlin or something! Nothing normal would be going through my underwear drawer. Have you checked on your room yet?"
"I mean what did they take so I can use it to figure out who did it?" Tasha does edge towards the door though, still sweeping her supernatural gaze across the room like some sort of head based search light.
No shadowy presences reveal themselves (save for Hakeber's brain). "Nothing!" Hakeber claims. "But I'm sure I saw a flash of movement when I got here."
"It'd be concerning of faeries or other beings managed to infiltrate the ship while we're out. It means we really need some sort of warding in place." Tasha does frown at Hakeber and her theft of nothing, however. "Niss, did Hake's door get unlocked in the time between her last exit and entry, by someone other than Hake? Did you detect anyone in her quarters, and do you have any insight who opened all these drawers?"
"We do not monitor what happens within private quarters, but we did not detect any motion other than the ship cats, which did stare at the door to the cabin for 23 minutes," the Niss reply.
"Thank you Niss." Tasha makes a hrrm sound. "The cats sensed sensed something. I don't sense anything, so whatever it is is probably long gone by now. How long were you out, anyway?" Deciding she may as well help look again, the red woman scans the room and tries to think of where she'd hide if she were a mysterious, possibly small, invader. She goes to the books and tries flipping them open to see if they do anything weird.
"Since the last meeting," Hakeber says, sitting up. "Those are some of the books of folklore I found at the library. They're pretty old, from the founding of the colony, but I haven't had time to really get into them yet."
Tasha pokes the books, each one in turn. "Are any of you alive or possessed by a fairy? Now's the time to say so."
The books are silent. They don't smell like the books Tasha remembers, mainly because they're still created with modern materials instead of actual paper, no matter how old they are. They even have a slight shimmer to them - probably an anti-copying watermark.
"And here I was thinking you'd look really good with a magical book friend," Tasha admits, sounding disappointed. She begins searching the more out of the way areas, but doesn't expect to find much. It's a few minutes in when she has an idea. "Hake, is there anything in here that wasn't here before? Any duplicates? Some beings can hide themselves from my sight."
"Oh.. I didn't think of that," Hakeber says, looking around at the mess. "I suppose I'll need to put things away then to find out."
"Lets get started then," Tasha bids, and she begins piling up the loose items. "Pay special attention to anything that isn't underneath a lot of other things. If they were trying to hide as an object hiding under other items would be clever, but they may not have had time. They also didn't take anyting, right? So maybe they were interrupted. Were the cats outside when you arrived?"
"The cats? No, I haven't seen them around," Hakeber says as she sorts through her underwear. "Why? I don't think cats could have done this.. could they?"
"The Niss said they were staring at your room for 23 minutes. They seem to be sensitive to strange things going on around them," Tasha admits. She pauses, looking up, and adds, "Unless they've suddenly gained special powers of their own."
"What happened after the 23 minutes?" Hakeber asks as she crams things back into drawers, seemingly at random.
"Niss, what did the cats do after 23 minutes were up?" Tasha goes to put things away and, upon realizing understanding Hakeber's arcane filing system is impossible, just puts them near Hakeber herself.
"The ran to the lift and cried, so we let them up to the VIP level," the Niss reply. "Then they went to stare at the door to your quarters. They are still there."
"Lets go, Hake." Tasha helps her friend up and makes for the exit in a hurry.
"Because of the cats?" Hakeber asks as she gets dragged along. She does lock the door behind them though.
"They're tracking something," Tasha explains. She hurries to the lift and heads up, looking impatient. "Hake, I'll take the lead and ready my-" the woman misses a step as the strangeness of what she's about to say hits her all over again, "-m-my magic, and you'll observe. If there's any sign of danger, immediately summon the others for help and initiate an alert. Niss, keep that alert internal and sent it only to the crew; we don't want the port authority rushing in."
"We do not understand the situation," the Niss note. "Is there something wrong with the cats?"
"I suspect they're tracking something our senses can't detect," Tasha replies as she steps off the lift.
The two cats are sitting in front of the door to Tasha's rooms, and just staring at it. One turns to look at the women, then meows and goes back to staring at the door.
Tasha gives her cat a nod, then puts a finger to her muzzle to indicate silence as she steps towards her room. Once she's at the door the alien yellow sword boils out of her right hand, followed by the shield out of her left. With that done, she pokes hits unlock and open in rapid succession and looks inside.
Like Hakeber's room, something turned out all of Tasha's drawers. And there's a suspicious lump under the covers of her bed (which have also been pull up).
Tasha shoots Hakeber a look, but then holds up a finger to indicate she should wait and gestures her to come to the door as Tasha herself makes towards the lump. Keeping her shield infront of herself and her sword up, she carefully steps closer, glad for her slighter frame and quieter steps.
The lump moves. So there's definitely something there that shouldn't be. Hakeber takes up a position in the doorframe. She looks nervous, possibly because the cats didn't come in.
Tasha pulls in a deep breath, checks that she's ready for this (she is), and with sword raised and shield put forward uses her shield hand to carefully draw back the covers.
A pair of golden eyes look up at Tasha. It looks like Charon, but reversed: instead of black, it's white. And has the golden ansible 'pearl' in its forehead.
There's a moment of dead silence as Tasha freezes in place, eyes wide, brain trying to process what this means. Were it Charon she'd be very glad to see him, but still processing what his presence here on this ship, in this reality, means for both, and himself as well. This little dragon doesn't look like Charon's remote, which means this may well be another Waymaker's remote. It's like finding a being of Hastur's power just deciding to show up in her room one day, with all great questions and concerns that entails. Stelya'Rhyan, however young, shake the world in their passing.
Knowing the silence needs to be broken and dialogue started, and seeing the 'pearl' and the connection it suggests, Tasha offers a slow, quiet start with, "H-hello," followed by a more stable, "I s-see you have the ansible? Do I know you?"
"For the next lesson, bring your friend," the little dragonet squeaks. "And donuts."
The sword and shield melt away and Tasha lowers her arms. "No alert. Hake, come in and say hello to Kainudy." And so the red woman steps aside to let Hakeber see the drawer ravager for herself.