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Reconnaissance was both a duty to her captain, and a way for Mulan to satisfy her burning curiosity about the new world that fate had brought her to. And so the young Chinese soldier skittered through Stacy's halls, quietly, purposefully, and above all, curiously.

She was glad she'd found her armor, along with her sword, her bow, and her quiver, in the Possessions locker. Her armor would be hot and heavy to wear in this humid environment, but at least it concealed the embarrassingly form-fitting suit the ship had given her. It was much preferable to be slightly uncomfortable at all hours of the day then to be walking around in what would have qualified in her time as nothing but the barest of underclothing. With her armor on and her hair tied back, she looked more like the boy she had become used to pretending to be, the boy she had just been growing accustomed to not having to be back home.

As she explored, she kept her bow, arrow notched and at the ready. She'd heard enough about the dangers that had already beset the crew, though she had the sense not to pull back on the string at the first signs of movement. The people here were abductees, like her, dragged from their strange foreign worlds into an equally strange and foreign one. It would not do to shoot any of them for no reason.

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She beams with pride. "Thank you. It was my father's." Now HER curiosity is piqued. "Are you an armorer?"

"It's beautiful. May I?" Daja asked, hoping for a closer look. "And I'm a blacksmith. I don't specialise in armour, but I do have experience in creating it. My teacher gave me a broad education."

Well . . . why not? "Yes. Go ahead." Mulan spreads her arms to allow the other woman a better view. "I've never met a woman who was a smith."

How strangely these foreigners, with their enormous statures and their hands of living bronze, live!

"Thank you," Daja said with a smile. "Really? Admittedly, there are more male blacksmiths, but women aren't unheard of." Remembering that everyone wasn't from her world, she amended: "Well. They aren't in my home, at least."

Turning her attention to the warrior's armour, Daja's admiration is plan to see. "The craftsmanship is beautiful! Your father must have hired a true artisan to create this!" She said. Touching one finger to the armour's decorations - from the hand that had that strange living bronze Mulan had noticed, in fact - Daja inspected it with her magical senses, taking note of the metals used. She could sense that the metal was as strong and sturdy as it looked, too. "With armour as well-made as this, you'll be well protected."

"China takes care of its soldiers," she says proudly. "Who taught you to be a blacksmith? Was it another woman?"

She's a little intrigued by this notion of women in male professions not being unheard of.

"China is your home?" Daja asked, curious. It certainly wasn't a place she'd ever heard of before. "No, my teacher was a man. His name is Frostpine - he's a temple dedicate at Winding Circle."

"How did you convince him to teach you?"

She's a little awed, Daja. "You must be incredibly talented."

"I didn't have to," Daja asked, looking a little bemused by the question. "Frostpine saw that I was interested and that I had smith-magic like him, and he offered to teach me. Actually, I was the one that needed a little convincing. Traders - my people - do not create."

She looks genuinely please at the complement. "Thank you! I hope I will be able to set up a forge here. When I do, I will have to show you some of my work."

"Yes! I would love to see it!"

She bows slightly. "I haven't introduced myself. My name is Mulan."

Daja smiled at the warrior's enthusiasm. Daja would look forward to letting them see her work - she always loved it when other people could appreciate the beauty of metal craft.

Daja bows in return. She'd already given Mulan her name, but she thought it didn't hurt to give it again. "Daja Kisubo."

"It is an honor to meet you." Mulan bows. Never hurts to be extra polite, unless you're talking to Kang, and the extra politeness makes him feel awkward. "If ever my armor is in need of repair, would I be welcome to bring it to you and conscript your services?"

"I would be happy to help," Daja said.

And she'd be itching to get an even closer look at that armour too...

"You have my sincere thanks." She bows, a smile on her lips. "If you think my armor is nice, you should see my captain's."

Judging by her interest in Mulan's armor, the much more ornately crafted imperial armor of a man born into a line of military officers will thrill her.

"Your captain?" Daja asked.

And it would indeed thrill her - there were few things Daja loved more than a beautifully crafted work.

"Yes." She briefly swells with pride. "The Honorable Li Shang, my captain and fiance."

She can't decide which title she's more proud of.

"Congratulations," Daja said, smiling at Mulan.