| abstract
| - Rough hewn walls of iron and basalt, grooved by machinery used to carve this spaceport facility out of the glinting black and gray rock, rise on all sides and arches above of the broad pad that provides ample room for starships to rest during their stay on Ungstir. Bright sulfurous lights seem to cast the chamber in permanent daylight despite the gloomy darkness and stars that loom beyond the huge portals, protected by the hazy shimmer of the prot's atmospheric containment fields. Through the force screens, silhouetted by the glow of the distant star Perseverance, one can make out the rolling, drifting shapes of rocks and planetoids - remnants of the world to which this chunk once belonged. Squat, dark-haired technicians with pale skin and gruff demeanors move from ship to ship, checking fuel levels and mechanical fitness of the vessels. An archway leads out of the landing facility and into the city of Resilience, via the customs station. Several large bays are set aside for ship maintenance and repair, serving as a general purpose drydock facility. Aisrya yawns a little and sits down on the Faux's boarding ramp. There's a good little group hanging around it. Katriel clambers down from the Gray Horse, turning once her feet touch the ground to look out across the landing field. Her eyes light upon the Faux, and she smiles, looking at the group clustered over there. LeBeau stands just off to Jest's side speechless. He knows better then to get between Jest and anything when she gets this riled up. Innokentevna just shrugs her shoulders quietly. "I am register't to vork z'ere. I voult hafe try't to see eef z'ere vas sometheenk to be tone. I suspect sometheenk coult be rrange't, da?" She then stand up a bit straighter. "I vish i coult hafe tone sometheenk about zee Volleestan. But he kept heemself skveeky clean vhile he vas here, an zee ones vho coult hafe tone sometheenk about heem lost zere abileety too vhen zee Nall took off Osvalt Cottinkton's heat. I'm sorry he deedn't cause trouble here. But eet toes vork both vays. No one voult hafe stopp't you from takink heem out eizer." She then shakes her head, and hugs herself tightly. "But as I sait ... ya manymayu ... I unterstant." Ace also falls silent, letting Jest and Katya sort this out. "I give up." Jest says simply. "If you want to make this a trust in you issue, feel free. I just told you what it was about. I do so adore the fact that you are trying to make me feel guilty about whom I choose as a healthcare provider." While Lebeau may be picking up on legitmiate reactions, her tone is calm and her expression is composed. Marlan steps past them and up into the Athena. TS-899 is currently plugged into the external power port on the Teamhair, offline. Innokentevna looks back to Jest'liana with a shake of her head. "Nyi tryink to make you feel guilty jest. About anytheenk." Katriel pads across the landing pad, heading towards the group collected there. Her face takes on a faintly puzzled look as she nears them, catching a few words of the conversation. "Umm, hi," the Mystic offers, along with a small wave, glancing around at everyone. Renkek Kashaan decides to go back in the ship as well for now maybe he'll be back out later if he chooses. Aisrya waves a little bit to the Mystic. "Heya," she says. Anastasia nods and smiles to the Mystic, "Privet, Katriel," she says quietly, not interupting the conversation. "How are you?" Katriel gives Rya a warm smile, and beams at Ace. "Things seem to be working out all right," she replies. Jest'liana shifts her weight and looks down to her nails, as if she could be inspecting them. She glances up as Katriel speaks and smiles. Innokentevna looks back to Jest'liana with a shake of her head. "Nyi tryink to make you feel guilty Jest. About anytheenk." The courier just takes a step backwards then, casting a glance over her shoulder. "Eets just an offerink, sometheenk I coult to." letting out a long breath Katyaslips herhands back into herjacket pockets. To the mystic she offers a soft, "Aylo Kisa." TS-899 wobbles slightly, and slowly unplugs itself from the ship. However, it still looks offline, and stays perfectly still. "Believe the offering, it is appreciated," Ace says to Katya with a nod, "That it is declined should not be taken personally." She looks back to Katriel, "You are feeling okay?" Katriel smiles, and then says, "Hey Jest," warmth audible in her voice, before turning her smile to Katya. "Hey," she greets brightly. She looks well enough, no signs of fever today, maybe a hint of darkness under her eyes, but that's it. "Well as ever," she declares to Ace. Jest'liana chuckles, "Been a bit." She says simply. "Glad to hear all is tip top and good to go." Her lips quirk upwards. She does glances again to Ace as she speaks and then offers a simple incline of her head to Katya, as if the Captain has spoken so succinctly to the subject that there is simply nothing more Jest can add. She stifles a yawn, fingers drumming at her hip again. TS-899 rises very slightly off the ground, about an inch, making only the faintest glow. It moves very slowly round the back of the Teamhair, and towards the customs station. "Spasiba z'en ..." Innokentevna answers back, her words just as quiet.She takes a look at her chronometer, and then out to the deck, her own stance just as anxious, perhaps, as Jest'liana's." "Is good to hear, Katriel, da," Ace smiles and then looks to Katya. "So who is this commander you are going to see?" Katriel looks between the collected faces of her friends, and frowns slightly, picking up on the tension, but uncertain on what, if anything, there is to do about it. Instead, she listens quietly. Jest'liana raises a brow, "Out and about to meet with mysterious people..." Her tone is dryly amused, perhaps faintly playful. TS-899 carries on moving, and silently hovers into the custom station, and off the landing pad. Innokentevnashrugs her shoulders quietly. "Phyrria." the courier shakes her head at that. "maybe z'eese time I von't almost crash zee Ofermint." "Did not know Phyrrians had commanders," Ace says, raising an eyebrow, "So who is this mysterious commander?" Mika exits the Eos and immediately lights up, glancing over the pad casually. Her eyes find the folks clustered near the Faux and her feet set course down the ramp, carrying her in their direction. "I'm staying awake this time," the Mystic asserts firmly, frowning slightly at Katya, still a little miffed about being allowed to sleep through it last time, apparently. "Crashing is something to be avoided." Jest demures. She tilts her head a little, then. Innokentevna looks up then, a breath dashing her black hair from her eyes. She scuffs a foot across the deck, considering. "Ton't knov eef I'll fint heem, da? lookink for sometheenk ... someone marly spoke ov. A seemacrulumn ov zee Colonel." "The colonel?" Ace asks, knowing only one colonel who both Ranix and Innokentevna were familiar with. "Porter? A simalacrum? What do you mean?" "'lo, guys," Mika greets, offering those gathered a casual salute. She doesn't particularly seem to care if she's interrupting anything. "S'th' 'aps, eh?" Katriel falls silent again, letting Katya answer the question, but turns to Mika as she arrives and gives her a brilliant smile. "Hey-- just talkin' 'bout going back to Phyrria an' stuff," she explains. Innokentevnalooks to her chronometer and then to the others. She slowly starts backing up, expression taut. "Ve shoultbe goink, da?" She then raises her head, nodding to Anastasia. "eet seems z'ere vas a phyrrian, z'at got Colonel porter's memories tovnloat't eento heem. kint ov like a mesage een a bottle, da?" The courier looks down then. "I ... I sait gootbye to heem on a forgoten rock een Hiferspace. But I ... vell, he vas afrient, da? hafe to go look an see an ask vhats up." Jest'liana raises a brow, "I hope that if its got anything to do with the shit that's going on with Kamir ...you know, since he was all involved in the blue light crap." She is forced to shuts up as Katya begins to speak. She inhales. "I do entirely hope that you'll share information? You know. We might not always know the right questions to ask, and Ace's life is at stake too. Da?" She smiles. "Privet, Mika," Ace says with a nod as Katya backs off, her head shaking, "Would have been nice to know. Is the man who knew everything about what was going to happen to us that day...who knew how the device operated...who assured us there was no danger. How long have you and Ranix known?" Mika balks at the Mystic, the cigarette nearly falling from her mouth. "Phyrria? 'gain? What?" She peers at Katya. "A Phyrrian did what?" -- and then to Ace -- "What?" And then just blinks, scratching her head and becoming the picture of confusion. Innokentevna looks back to Anastasia at that. "Fount out myself only yesterday, da? An z'eese eeszee feerst i hafe been out seence." Her gaze then turns to Jest'liana, nodding softly. "Goes vithoutsayink, jest. no vorries z'ere ..." She then looks back to katriel and mika. "Zough you can ask z'em. I hafe been comink up vith a beeg fat notheenk lately, myself. You just keep forvart, da?" She glances to the small engineer. "Vell eef ve are goink, ve better geet goink, da?" Dargunth trudges ponderously through the customs station, arms swaying at his sides. This particular behemoth isn't used to rushing for anyone or anything, and it shows. He crams a handful of mixed vegetables into his mouth and gnaws on them absently, unconcerned with the bits and pieces tumble out. Katriel shrugs a bit, not looking much better enlightened than Mika. "Marlan said something about there being a robot that turned into this colonel," she asides to Mika, and then nods uncertainly at Katya. "Yeah, I guess," she agrees, blinking a bit. "Are you coming with us?" she asks Mika, turning to her friend. David follows the Zangali through the customs station, his pace slow, very slow. He's not used to following anything this slow and it shows. His hand finally reaches into his pocket and withdraws his packet of cigarettes, lost in his own thoughts, he lights up. Jest'liana nods, "Good, then. Good." She shifts her weight again, "Mika, darling hello. And farewell, all. I'm going to go talk to Frey a bit more. Big crowd." She makes a comical pout, "Little Jest." She smiles, her glasses reflecting back the light breifly as she turns back towards her ship. Innokentevna starts clambering up the Gray Horse's front tire, to once again draw down the small ship's boarding ladder. "Vell .. maybe eef ve meet after you go to La Terre, ve shall both hafe goot nevs to share?" She nods to Jest'liana. "you take care ov yourself ... " To Anastasia she offers a quiet " ... I guess eets da svidaniya zen?" The last is ended, definitely a question, not a statement. Dargunth halts at the foot of the tarmac and draws a deep, deep breath. He exhales slowly through his nostrils, enthralled with the twin plumes of vapor rising into the cold night air. "Where?" the Zangali rumbles, craning his neck to peer down at David. "Um," Mika says, an eyebrow arching as she glances from Katriel to the courier, "... yes? I mean, I guess, was there both times shit went nuts'n Phyrria. Third time's a charm." She looks to the Faux crew and shrugs heavily, wordlessly informing them of her ignorance, and flicks her half-expired smoke to the ground, deciding it can extinguish itself. If Ace is looking at her when she falls in step behind the Mystic and Katya, she would notice the Hyperion's captain offering her a quick, discreet thumbs-up behind her back. David points straight to the TSS Lupercalia, :Nothing fancy, but she's fast, damned fast. A Dasher Mark II Passenger Transport: Ace just stands there a moment, looking to Katriel through her own mirrored shades before giving a slow nod, "Da...I understand," she says quietly, turning to go, "And da, guess it is. Da svidaniya all of you...good luck." "Bye Jest," the Mystic calls, and then waves to Ace and the rest, turning to head over towards the Gray Horse. Which is when she spots the Zangali, and then looking over from him, David, and jolts, frozen to the spot for a moment as though an electric current had just passed through her. A beat, and then she is shaking her head, climbing up the ladder, but her eyes keep slipping over in his direction until she disappears inside the ship. Dargunth follows David's gesture to the indicated vessel. He rolls his shoulders and says, "Small." His spines flatten as he presses a huge fist against his hip. "Gallery big?" Innokentevna 's still gaze looks back to Anastasia with a slow nod. "Make sure our paths cross aftervarts." She then scrambles into the ship. "You take care Jest ..." And with that she vanishes into the ship. David looks from the ship to Dargunth, :Big enough, we keep it stocked: David is going to have to keep it stocked more. Jest'liana offers a wave over her shoulder. Her hand goes go the hull of the ship, and after a sweep, finds the locking panel. She taps in the correct code. Anastasia nods to Mika and turns to Jest, "Back to La Terre it is, then." Mika puzzles over Kat and follows her gaze over to David, and takes a moment to puzzle over him as well before shaking her head and clambering up the Gray Horse's ladder. Windowless and cramped, this tight compartment provides a pair of in-line acceleration couches only for a diminuitive pilot and communications officer. Data from outside the craft is relayed to the cockpit occupants via a holographic heads-up display, providing both a view from the ship and supplemental graphic navigation, trajectory and tactical information overlays. The acceleration couches are mounted upon gyroscopic devices which allow them to twist and rotate with the ship during acceleration and maneuvering. Innokentevnasits in the forward acceleration couch, her expression dark, her glasses once again back on her nose as she concentrate on flying the ship. Outside the warp bubble shimmers, as she sends her pony gallping between the stars. "I hope ... i hope ve geet sometheenk tonite ... Mika is likewise strapped into an acceleration couch. She looks up at the screen as Katya speaks and nods her head. "So, uh," she begins uncertainly, "Th' Colonel's a Phyrrian now? 'zat what I 'eard?" Katriel follows Katya inside the cockpit, and straps herself in, watching the courier. "I hope so too," she echoes. Innokentevna looks back to Mika with a slow nod. "Da ... an da ... he vas zee feerst person to really trust me." She manages a small smile. "Vhen ve vent after zee kameer, he ... he shov't me vhat eet meant to ebe part ov sometheenk beeger z'an myself. eet deedn't matter eef ll I deet vas pull a sletge ov ekvipment ... efen z'at vas eemportant." "I know who 'e is... sorta," Mika replies, nodding vaguely. "'ow did 'e... why's 'e a Phyrrian? S'e what was causin' all them problems with th' Overmind? 'r..." -- she sits back against the seat again -- "s'that what we're gonna ask? Bollocks. I thought Ranix said she was goin' t' TK?" Katriel frowns a bit, looking over at Mika. "She said something about there being an accident, I think-- that his memory got fused with a Phyrrian, or something?" she says slowly, looking to Katya. With a shattering of silver starbursts, the spindrive field collapses, returning the ship to normal space. The huge blue giant of Bright Tasker dominates this sector of space, the system's sun a large star slowly expanding from giant to supergiant. A single planet orbits the large star, tracing a lonely ellipse beneath its hot sapphire light. A one freighter slowly accelerates inssytem, its trajectory taking it towards a Phyrrian orbit. >> Outside the Ship: A streak of crimson strikes across the darkness like a fiery lightning bolt, ending in a scattering of silver starbursts, leaving only the UKT Gray Horse in its wake. The pilot slips the small ship towards the burned out planet, diving intoits orbit and then through the corrosive atmosphere. "Uh huh ... z'ats vhat marly sait. Z'at he vas a Phyrrian ... but also zee complete Colonel personaleety. Hov eet happen't, she deedn't tell me much. just z'at eet deet." As the ship dives, her words soften. "I just ... vell ... truth. he coult hafe ansvers. on zee ozer hant ... he's ... vell ... i nfer vas able to say goot bye, like i voult hafe vish't ..." >> Outside the Ship: Changing vectors, the UKT Gray Horse heads towards an orbit around Phyrria. A broad, flat expanse of pitted metal with stagnant, rust-hued water pooling in the dents that mar the riveted surface. From the perpetually overcast sky spills a stinging rain that irritates humanoid eyes and exposed flesh. The air is thick with the acrid odor of toxic chemical waste. The metallic plain to the east gives way to a swampy marsh of blackish-green goop that winds its way toward a range of spiky blue-gray mountain peaks in the distance. Forming a rough horseshoe around the plain is a city constructed of mix-and-match steel structures, home to a society of mechanoid sentients who get around either by hovering, ambulating on artificial appendages, rolling on wheels, easing along on tracks, or sliding on electromag skids. Mika glowers, watching the bleak landscape scream by as the Horse blazes toward the surface. "Still don't 'xplain why she was 'ere, an' not on TK," she complains. Letting it go, she shifts her attention to Katriel. "Gonna need t'suit up, 'fore we go runnin' 'round out there. S'not a 'ealthy atmosphere, y'know. 'specially not fer you, 'cause y'been sick'n all." Katriel falls silent, squeezing her eyes shut as Katya brings the ship in to land in typical Katya style, bracing herself against the extra g's. She opens her eyes to frown at Mika as she speaks. "All I needed was a little rest, and see?" she notes, indicating that she is looking just fine now. "Wearing a suit sucks," she adds, succinctly, as she unhooks the safety harness holding her to her couch. Innokentevnaslips out of her harness then, setting the small ship to idle, setting the security systems on. As she stands she grans her heavy jacket, shrugging it on. "Suit or heafy coat. Innokentevna adds. "Eets acit rain ... but ve hafe vorksuits here hovefer." She then lets out a long breath. "Thenk ov smart kvestshuns, da?" The Hyperion's captain is unconvinced. She unbuckles herself and starts to work her way into an envirosuit, sending a frank looks to Kat. "Acid rain," she echoes the courier, "an' smog so thick y'can stir't. C'mon, Kat. Gotta suit up." She looks herself over, making sure everything's in place, and repeats Katya's words again. "Smart questions, right." And heads for the airlock. Newly fabricated Phyrrians spend the first days of their existence undergoing programming in this massive facility. They jack into row after row of ports and begin the rapid process of downloading instinctive and instructional data from the core Phyrrians know as the Overmind. This chamber also serves as a sort of "food source" for the Overmind, where adult Phyrrians may return from time to time to jack in and upload collected data to share with the greater population. PRTR-001 sits on a couple of stacked metal boxes in front of a dataport creche next to the Overmind, flanged fingers resting on his metallic knee cylinders as his glowing blue optical receptors fix on a spot in the middle of the floor directly in front of his boot-like feet. The glimmering telltales on his chest flicker on and off in seemingly random sequences. He generates no noise, save for the soft whir of his cranial processor. Phyrrians to the left, Phyrrians to the right. Mika doesn't seem sure which Phyrrian it is she's supposed to be looking for as she peers around the dark chamber, her footsteps slow and careful. Stepping into the facility are three humanoid figures ... all relatively short. They wear rugged worksuits against the harsh rain and atmosphere. As they look across the space one, the shortest, slowly ratchets off her helmet, to hold it at her side. She hakes her head, and when her eyes open, there is a touch of strain in them, a hint of shadows beneath. But her view is straight and forward, a touch both concerned and hopeful. looking to the other twoshe calls out. "... Aylo? ve are ... ve are lookink for someone by zee name ov Porter?" Katriel moves slowly and awkwardly in the heavy suit, following after Mika, taking in the rows of jacks. She stops when the courier stops, frowning at her, and then peers into the dimness looking for whoever might answer that call. PRTR-001 lifts his ovular head, glowing blue optical receptors fixing on the source of the query. He stands, arms dangling clickingly at his sides as he turns to face the fleshers. "Call me Dave," comes the man's voice from within the machine. It sounds to those familiar with David Ransom Porter like the colonel's voice, if it were coming from inside a well made of corrugated aluminum. "Um," Mika says, a more substantial verbalization out of reach at the moment. She, too, stops when the others do, rubbing her forearm uncertainly as the PRTR-001 pipes up, and then turns a questioning look to Katya. Innokentevna just starts, tarts and looks, matching memories to a voice, mapping memories upon a reality of metal. "Colonel?" the young woman asks, a hand rising to touch a silver crucifix hanging at her throat. "Colonel ... Dafe ... eets me, Katya." She lets outa breath and then nods first from one side to the other. "Z'eese ees Katriel, only eengeeneer vho I'll let touch zee Gray Horse an more z'an a tovarish ... an Mika Tachyon, kapitan ov zee superfreighter Hyperion, da?" She then considers for a long moment, and then quietly queries. "I hope ... vell ... you ... look better z'an vhen I sav you last, maybe.' Katriel tilts her head to one side, movement barely visible with the helmet on, and studies the Phyrrian. "Hi Dave," she greets in a friendly voice over the suit's radio. "Umm, nice to meet you, an' all," she adds to Katya's introduction. "I look like my grade school science project," the human-esque Phyrrian responds, chortling mechanically. "But the memories I carry within this amalgamation of PRTR-001 and David Ransom Porter recall knowledge of you and the Gray Horse. Of particular note seems to be a scouting trip over Nocturn before the fall of the Kamir." He then turns to regard Mika and Katriel, one and then the other, bowing his head to both as he clasps his metal hands behind his back. "Heya." Mika finally manages a polite nod, her own voice coming in a crackle over the communicator. "'lo," she greets, giving the Phyrrian the once-over and then tearing her eyes away to survey the gloomy room, eyes falling on the Overmind's guards, who stand sentinel near the jacks. "Da ..." Innokentevna manages to smile at that. "Tolt you, I am your eyes an ears, for goink to look an see ..." She manages a small sad smile. "So you vere nyi suppose't to go look for heafen befor me, da? Z'ats my job. An a high school project ... ees better z'n a ghost on a forgotten kameer vorlt." Her arms wrap quietly abouth herself, ruffling the heavy suit material. "Ve stopp't Greem, you knov. manage't to do z'at. An me ... me an Meloty, ve finally got marry't. Marly deet eet, zough ve are ... on etge a leetle beet, all theenks consiter't." Looking down, Katya scuffs the deckplates with one foot. "Marly voult nyi be happy ... but, vell, ve are caught een a game ov chess, an zee bat guys are about fife mofes aheat ov us da? Nyi to menshun four ov us are beink threaten't vith beink taken out ov zee game een a beeg blue vay.' Katriel grins at the robot going by the moniker of Dave, taking another step closer to him, eyes intensely curious. "How'd you get all stuck in there, anyway?" she asks the most basic question she can think of as she approaches. And then stops, turning back to look at Katya. "Four?" she repeats, making it a definite question. PRTR-001 shrugs. "Long story," he answers Katriel, then he turns his attention back to Katya. "I know about Grim. Didn't know about the marriage. Congrats." His ovular head tilts. "You won't be taken out of the game by what happened to you on Nocturn. But Volari ... he'll do all he can to take you out." Katriel's words are echoed when Mika's attention snaps back to the courier: "Four?!" And then she shakes her head at PRTR-001's answer, turning to regard him. "Volari. So, fergive me if'n m'a li'l dense, r'missin' somethin' r'whatever, but m'failin' t'see 'ow all this crazy Kamir stuff ties'n with bloody Volari an' this blinkin' urn bus'ness." Innokentevna smiles a bit, nodding to capitan Tachyon. "ets like a jigsav puzzle, Mika. Volari ees one part ov zee peecture ... an ofer here ees zee Kameer. Zere are a lot ov pieces missink een betveen, but eef ve fint z'em all ve shall haf a vhole peecture, da?" it takes a deep breath, in and out, for her to answer their question, however. "Volidana. An victor Cross an a lotorian by zee name of Feznak. Vho Marlan toss't off zee Athena. Nov Feznak ... hoop he's probably zee most tangerous ov all ov us." But then she looks back to PRTR and steels herself. "But da ... it't like some atfice on zee kameer taintink. I vant .. I vant to stay meloty's courier, da? Z'ats ll. An eets hoop'n hart to keep from glovink blue. An zee ozer probleem ees z'at volari ees fife mofes aheat ov us an ve hafe run ut ov leats." "In a few days, after I meet up with the Athena folks again, maybe I can help you start tracking down some leads," the Phyrrian known as Dave replies to Katya. "Right now, the Overmind and I are still trying to come to terms with what's happened to me. A bit of a quandary, really. I'm an aberration among the taskers. They might try to dismantle me. A big hodown's planned this week. All the taskers planetside will get together for a confab to decide my fate." Katriel blinks at Katya. "That's a lot more than three," she notes after a stunned moment. "I didn't know there were others-- you shoulda told me," she reproaches the courier, shaking her head. It's another moment before she turns awkwardly back around to Dave. "Why? I mean, you're no threat to them, are you?" Mika sends a knowing frown to Katriel, glances at Katya, and sharply looks back to the Phyrrian. "Dismantle ya," she repeats, folding her arms across her chest. "They threatened t'do th' same thing t' unit YS-1967C," she points out. "Is't really 'cause yer channelin' th memories'a some colonel? 'r s'it 'cause y'might know th' answers t'th' questions th' overmind ain't want asked?" She puts her head to one side. "They seem awfully dismantle-blinkin'-'appy 'round 'ere." "Both Tana an Cross hafn't shovn any signs ov anytheenk ... an no one's seen Feznak for ofer a year." She lets out a long breath, crossing her arms as Katriel and Mika continue their questions. "So ... tvo ... tree tays ... before ve can talk about Volari ..." The courier frowns. "Has anyone mention't to zee Ofermint z'at eet mite nyi be een hees best enterests to hafe someone vho can muck about vith Phyrrian programink loose een zee galaxy. Hackers tent to geet better vith age. "See, here's the thing about YS-1967C," Dave the Phyrrian replies to Mika, lacing his flanged fingers before his mechanoid body. "The Overmind doesn't have any question about whether to dismantle YS-1967C. The Overmind's decided that's *got* to happen. It's got to happen, according to the Overmind, because YS-1967C triggered the worm program that nearly shut down the Overmind and, oddly enough, caused the fabrication of PRTR-001." A beat, then, "Me. That worm program originally came from David Ransom Porter, courtesy of a Phyrrian who downloaded data from a computer in Cabrerra's corporate headquarters on Tomin Kora. *I* contain David Ransom Porter's personality, knowledge and amalgamated personalities of Porter and the Phyrrian unit known as PRTR-001. The Overmind blames Porter as the source of all this. So, what needs to be determined is whether I am more Porter than not, and therefore guilty of his crimes against Phyrria." Katriel blinks at the robot Porter. "Are you?" she asks simply. PRTR-001 shrugs clunkingly at Katriel. "I've spent the last few days sorting it out in my head. I'll spend the next few days sorting it out in my head too. It's got all of us sort of fuddled and preoccupied, really. The part of me interested in self-preservation wants to say 'Hell, no, I'm not Porter.' But the honest part acknowledges that, Porter or not, I'm a product of whatever he did. If I'm malignant, I should be dismantled." "What?!" is Mika's horrified response. "Chrome-dome did this?! Well Porter's th' one that put th' damned thing'n there! 'ow th' Christ was chrome-dome -- was YS-1967C -- 'ow was 'e s'posed t'know that askin' this shit was gonna cause some kinda freaky chain reaction?!" "Can I ask a deeferent kvestshun?" Innokentevna scratches her head, "Has zee Ofermint efer consiter't z'at zee accumeelashun ov tata necessarily has eenherent resks, an z'at vhen theenks go strange, eets just part ov toink business?" Her words hang in the air for a long moment. "maleegnant or no, you are a unikve beink, vith knovletge extremely valuable. Da, you coult be maleegnant, an da, eet mite be safer to deesmantle yuo an valk avay. Or, da, ve unterstantz'at. an because ov vho you are ... certain reesks are vorth takink. Like vhen you took a chance on an untest't peelot, to tife eento zee clouts ov Nocturn z'at nite. Zee uniferse ees colt an cruel. Ve Ungstiri knov z'at. Sometimes you hfe to leef vith a certain amount ov reesk ... zee gray zone betveen one an zero." Katriel blinks at Mika's outburst, and then tilts her head, looking at the robot again. She pauses thoughtfully, quietly as Katya speaks, considering the simulacrum. "I'm meeting an awful lot of awful good AI's these days," she notes pensively. "But all of that's a different question, ain't it? Whether you are malignant, or whether you are Porter?" she asks. "The Overmind doesn't acknowledge gray zones," Dave the Phyrrian replies. "I'm sorry. Look, as bad as dismantling may sound to you, it's a fairly common practice. We're torn apart, redistributed to different stations in the fabrication facility and then our components are put to use in new tasker entities. It's not a complete waste of life. But it's necessary sometimes because the Overmind must consider its responsibility to *all* Taskers and the security of their processors. If a worm program can nearly shut down the Overmind, then, yes, it's a threat that must be dealt with. Is it over the top to dismantle YS-1967C for being in the wrong place at the wrong time asking the wrong question? Sure, from a flesher point of view. But we're not fleshers." He turns his optical receptors to gaze at Katriel. "I do not know the answer to either question. I am not entirely Porter, and I do not think I am entirely malignant, but that is a decision for my kind to make in the coming days." Quietly, he regards the Overmind databank and then muses aloud: "Perhaps it would allow the opportunity for offworlder testimony during the confab." "What I really want t'know," Mika grumbles, scuffing the floor with her boot and scowling, "s'why everybody with a goddamned death sentence ends up'n MY blinkin' crew. Can we ask th' Overmind THAT?" Katriel ponders this answer, shrugging a bit. "You said that was what they were gonna base their decision on, is all-- I wanted to make sure we were askin' the right questions," she says, worrying at her lower lip inside the bubble of her helmet as she considers the problem. "Is bein' an outcast an option?" she asks, something wry in her voice tugging her lips upwards. Innokentevna looks to PRTR and speaks, very quietly and simply. "just because zee ofermint toesn't acknovletge z'em ..." softspoken she is, but her words are laced with cold, pragmatic steel. " ... toesn't mean z'ey ton't exist or aren't real. Espeshally out een zee outsite vorlt, vhere he ees sentink hees taskers to explore." Katya gnaws a bit, upon her lower lip, gaze downcast and fierce. "He allovs z'at. For u to talk, z'en, vell I shall be here, da?" She waits then, for PRTR to answer Mika and Katriel, before continuing with her own question. "I don't think the Overmind has much in the way of wisdom when it comes to why your crew members might be ill-fated," Dave tells Mika. "Sorry." His ovular head tilts and then he turns his glowing receptors to gaze at Katriel. "I accepted a kill program from the Overmind in exchange for my survival *so far*," he says. "If I try to leave without the Overmind's blessing, I'll just switch off and never turn on again. Might even be melted to slag and used for a support beam or something, and then that really *would* be a waste, because this building only needs 500 key support beams. A 501st would just be redundant, and I *hate* redundancy, or so I seem to recall." He pauses in silence, staring at the sentinels for a few moments, and then he turns his gaze toward Katya. "All parties involved will be allowed to testify during the confab, including offworld fleshers who wish to speak either for or against dismantlement." Mika looks up, a confused frown twisting across her face. "Why d'they want th' opinion'a fleshers, if'n our 'pinions'r so blinkin' diff'rent?" she inquires of the Phyrrian. "I mean, m'still gonna show up an' fight fer m'goddamned robot'n all, 'cause this ain't 'is fault, s'mine -- m'th' one that asked'm t'come. But bollocks, this don't make a lick'a sense." Katriel nods. "Didn't say you should *run*," she notes. "Just asked if it was an option. Doesn't sound like it-- or leastwise, not a good one," she adds, going back to quietly considering the problem as Mika speaks up. "It'd be a waste to let any information that might help us know how to deal with Volari just get erased, too," she says after a little bit, one hand coming up as if to rub at her forehead and then falling back as it meets her helmet. "An eet vas me vho neet't zee kvestshun asked." The courier frowns. "An I'm goink to hafe to keeck a certain personeen zee sheens. Again." Katya then looks up quietly. "but you knov, z'at breengs us back to zee oreegeenal kvestshun ... z'at has nothink to do vith Volari. Eets has to do vith ... me." The young ungstiri lifts her head, tall and straight. "caught een a contradeecshun eet seems, da? An i vant to stay me. An vrite nov I feel like I am stumblink een zee tark ... an lookink fo some atfice on stayink me." "Katya," the Phyrrian says, slowly shaking his metal head. "None of us stay who we are. Change is constant. You want to talk to someone about staying who they are," he points to the blinking lights on his metal chest, "I think you've got the wrong guy. But I can tell you this much: You're not going to turn into blue vapor. Once you get a grip on the new ... talents ... you'll be normal. More or less. Well, less than more. But you get the point." He then shifts his attention to Katriel. "As for the data I carry that might help against Volari: The Overmind holds it too. If I'm dismantled, it will still be available." Mika is quiet for a while as the others speak, absently dragging her foot on the floor, listening to the conversation but not seeming intent on chiming in with any thoughts of her own. Innokentevna looks at the blinking lights. "Eef youtheenk I'm goink to ent up a machine, vell you got aozer theenk conink, da?" The ungstiri tightens her arms about herself. "I can nyi program to safe my life. I't make a horreble Phyrrian." She then lets out a long, tough breath. "Eef eet matters, eets nyi for me I am vorry't. Am nyi goink to break my promeeses toa certain Speshaleest. So I'm an eensecure marshmallov eensite. You just got to teal vith eet. On zee ozer hant, got an excellent eenstructor. Gonna make eet me eensteat ov zee ozer vay arount." Katriel looks quietly between Katya and Porter, and moves a bit closer to Mika. "Everything changes, everybody dies," she agrees softly. "It's what you do in the meantime that counts." PRTR-001 whirs briefly, then chuckles at Innokentevna. "I didn't mean you'd turn into a machine. Yeesh. I just meant there's no stopping change. All you can do is deal with it. So, if you keep these new abilities in check, I don't see why you can't live the rough approximation of the normal life that could be expected of someone who lives on a rock in the midst of a deadly rock field, who's involved in a high-risk interstellar transport business, and who's gone one on one against Kamir, Nall, and Majordomo Grim - just to name a few." Innokentevna looks back and just blinks. then she just takes a step forward. "An just vho to you theenk taught me z'at zere vas more to zee uniferse z'an beink just a courier, an z'at beink a part ov sometheenk beeger z'an yourself vas zee rite theenk to do? Learn't z'at on zee lantink fielt on Novo Genisis." The ungstiri crosses her arms again and chuffs out a short breath. "Marly ees rite you knov. Eferytheenk ees your fault." She then takes a deep breath. "An mine for puttink me rite smak een zee mittle ov trouble." Mika glances at the brooding Katriel and reaches out a finger to *thunk* her helmet, a faint little grin on her face that she hopes is contagious. "So maybe," she offers, a hopeful note in her voice, "this metabolism whatsit that Kat 'ere's been teachin' ya might actually 'elp, Katya." Innokentevnastands, arm crossed, looking at the PRTR unit, looking a strange combination of chagrined and fierce at the same time. Katriel blinks and twists her body around to look at Mika after the thunk. "Hey!" she complains, a faint grin on her face. "Seems to be," she adds a bit more seriously then. The Phyrrian inclines his head toward Katya. "It may be Porter's fault. But it is not necessarily *mine*." He gazes toward the observing sentinel taskers, then turns his attention back toward the Ungstiri courier. "Guess we'll know in a few days." Datapadd hugged tightly to her bosom, Melody makes her hesitant entry and glances around uncertainly for her companions. When the researcher manages to spot them, she hurries her steps to join the trio. "So what now?" Mika asks, looking curiously to Katya. "Y'got yer question answered, now what? M'glad yer not gonna d'ssolve inta blue goo'n all, an' m'glad y'feel better 'bout't, an' I really 'njoyed meetin' yer friend 'ere but we still ain't any closer t'findin' Volari'r this urn than we were 'fore we left." She glances over her shoulder at the approaching Specialist. "'lo, Mel. Nice t'see ya joinin' us." Innokentevnalooks back to Mika with a shrug of her shoulders. "Actually you neet to thank Katriel ... looks like ve are gink to be let een on zee Ofermint's teceshun ... vhich, eef ve play our carts vrite coult geet us t zee eenformashun z'ats lock't behint zee firevall, da?" "Greetings." The youthful Specialist breathes out while cupping a strand of rogue hair behind her ear before returning it to squeeze around her chest. "What did we find out...?" Katriel blinks, looking over at Katya. "Didn't do that-- he did that," she says, puzzlement sounding in her voice. "But, anyways, I don't guess there's much more we can do here, is there?" she asks. "Not unless you want to sit and wait," Dave the Phyrrian replies. "But I suspect you would find it dull." Mika heaves a sigh, shoulders slumping as she frowns thoughtfully at Melody. "We've found out that Kat's li'l yoga-'xercises might save our blue-eyed friends, that I 'ave doomed m' med'cal off'cer, that this pseudo-Porter 'ere might get all discombobulated, an' Katya... well..." -- she tilts her head, setting her jaw and flicking a glance at the courier -- "she's still bein' all stubborn an' fierce an' all things Katya, I guess." Innokentevna looks back over her shoulder as she crosses back to meet her wife halfway. She casts a glance back though, over her shoulder, to the humanoid looking Phyrrian. "Spasiba Dafe ... an da, I shall be here ... maybe ve can teach zee Ofermint about zee color gray. Da svidaniya." And as she sweeps frward to th other two she nods, "Vell hoop .. some theenks hafe to remain constant." Politely Melody listens to the thoughtful exposition provided by the Hyperion's captain, face pleasant if albeit unmoving. Even when Mika is through... the analytical researcher continues with that expression, blinking silently. What? Her gaze shifts to Katya and finally voices that innocent question: "What?" "Guess we'll see you later, then," Katriel says to the robot, as she turns to follow Katya, and grins at Melody. "Hey," she greets. "Nice meeting you," she adds after a moment, tossing the comment over her shoulder with an awkward twisting of her torso. PRTR-001 bows his head to Katriel, then turns and walks back to the two crates stacked atop each other in front of the dataport creche. He settles onto the boxes, returning to the exact profile he maintained before their arrival. "Yeah, see ya, um, Dave," Mika says, raising her arm to send him a clunky wave in farewell, one hampered by the thick lining of the suit. "Don't uh... rust, r'nothin', I guess." She plods on out after the others. Innokentevnablinks and then looks back to PRTR, her head tilting at Mika's words. She can't help but to stop, turn and ask. "Actually ... consiterink zee corroseef enfironmnt, hov to you keep from rustink?" PRTR-001 glances up, glowing blue optical receptors turning toward Katya. "We all get the factory-spec primer paint and Shini-Mark holocar coating, even though it adds about 200 percent to the hidden fees." A beat, then, "We're just built that way." Well, that didn't quite work. Her question unanswered (or answered in Mika's slang), Melody moves on to the next obvious question. "Oh, this is the Colonel?" With a twang of shock, the researcher glances from Katya to Mika and then to Katriel and the Phyrrian. A pause. "Why is it called 'Dave'?" Katriel stops, frowns, tilts her head considering the words from the simulacrum, and then giggles for a moment. "Never met a funny robot before," she says, before looking at Melody and shaking her head. "Cuz that's his name, I thought," she answers. Mika rolls her eyes at the Phyrrian as she continues to move back toward the ship. "Jeezus," she drawls, exhaling through her nose. To Melody, she simply replies, "'cause s'a repackaged Colonel Porter. Action figure line comes out next month. Kung-fu grip'n glowy eyes, th' whole nine." "Eet zee Colonel's memories, thoughts, knovletge an personaleety traits all roll't eento a Phyrrian shell an tatabase structure. So eets as close to zee Colonel as ve veell efer geet, I theenk ... but he ees steel hees ovn ... person ..." Katya then just stops and looks. Her attention is suddenly quite focused. Katriel stops, of course, when Katya stops, nearly bumping into her. "What?" she asks. "Oh... YS is kinda funny. I mean, to me he is." Melody responds to the Mystic while dropping her self-hug to adjust her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Then, nodding to Mika (as well as Katya), her curiosity is confirmed. It /is/ the Colonel. "Does it know all Porter's memories? Greetings, Colonel Port--, I um, mean Dave. It's me, Melody. I'm sorry you died... I didn't get to say goodbye." Innokentevna actually holds, still for a long and quiet moment. teeth are set upon her lower lip, as she gives the Phyrrian one final, long look. But she waits, then, as melody speaks, her glance turning to the Specialist and a smile once again crossing her face. PRTR-001 waves to Melody as casually as a mechanoid can. "Howdy. Been a long time. Congrats on tying the knot." "YS's a riot," Mika agrees, a bit of ringing sadness in her voice, her steps halting only for a second before she makes a detour, stepping around the sudden traffic jam and resuming course for the Gray Horse. Katriel stands, a picture of befuddlement, waiting for Katya to either explain or move on. Since she does neither, the Mystic simply waits, shuffling out of the way of the passing Mika a bit. Melody actually smiles at the gesture, be it somewhat awkwardly and oddly. It's not everyday one gets to speak to their former Colonel that died and is now technically alive again as a Phyrrian. "Thanks... I'm glad to see that you're... you know, in a physical form again." She flusters and then decides to wrap this conversation up. "I'll keep in touch..." Followed by a jitty retreat to her friends. Innokentevnalooks to Melody and nods, "Da ... ve shall be comink back een a fev tays, actually." As she speaks she turns, to walk backwards a few steps. "Da svidaniya, Colonel ... Dafe ... may zee stars vatch ofer you, teell our paths cross again an een zee meantime stay vay from magnets an cuttink torches." Katriel decides this must mean they are really leaving, and shuffles after Mika. "Katya, that's not funny..." Melody chastises like a true wife should as she piled in after Mika and Katriel.
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