trans_9 | An Elaborate Tomb [Open!]

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An Elaborate Tomb [Open!]

Spoor had waited for the chaos and milling numbers of people on the observation deck to die down a bit before really exploring it. She'd wandered around the edges of conversations, poking in here adn there when something sparked her interest. She'd found a few answers, more questions - along with Deca-Commander Abriel. She could almost swear that girl was following her.

Then, something had caught her eye. Something small, simple, but clearly marked in Baronh. A small caern, in the approximate size and shape of body with Lynn Su Rock Haidr Jinnto carved into it. She knelt, examined it quietly for a moment, brushing finger-tips over stone (when she died, she wanted something much more elaborate). She remembered His Excellency - how could she forget him? The fact alone that he'd brought a rather embarassed and humiliated looking Abriel onto her ship was pleasure enough. But then, there was his mind. He'd seemed an intelligent and thoughtful young man, even if he was not an Abh by birth. Naturally, he was still an Abh. A noble as well.

She'd been tempted to try and get the boy on her staff, but the opportunity had never been there (and her own Chief-of-Staff was just too much fun to tease). So, he'd gone on to be a supply officer. She hadn't followed his career, she'd merely noted a few things in passing as they came up.

And now, she remembered, he was probably dead on Lobnas II. Left behind when the Abh had evacuated, when her fleet had a fought a desperate battle and lost over three-quarters of its numbers destroyed. He was as much a casualty as the rest of her troops, as the crewmembers who had died in the cold vacum of space or been scattered across space-time. So, after a moment of reflection, she stood and snapped off a passable salute. An Abh was an Abh, no matter where or how they died. They deserved respect.

And if necessary, vengeance.

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Her suspicions will only be heightened when Lafiel does indeed catch her there. Her footfalls are light and deliberate as she enters the obs deck, surprised to see the Admiral paying respect to anyone.

She mulled over what to say. Nothing seemed adequate. Finally she decided on candor. "It was the best I could do. We don't yet have access to an airlock."

"No airlocks. How very uncivilized. Not that this ship is anything like we're used to," she clasped her hands behind her back and turned to look at Lafiel critically, that ever-present smirk hovering on the corners of her lips. She doesn't really feel sympathy for the girl - sympathy for an Abriel? Never. Pity, perhaps.

"Still, I suppose that I'll have to make the best of it. I do need to talk with this command staff of theirs'. I am an admiral. It's... simply not going to do. Not at all."

She paused, "Then again, prospects for actual fleet actions seem depressingly low."

"They are present. We are simply closed off from large portions of the ship. There are others on board who have seized control of the bridge. The command staff is attempting to find a way through, and once that is done we will likely assault it." She hopes it is soon. She's itchy for action. The Star Forces have always suited her competitive personality.

"While most of our missions will be planetside, I understand the sensorium is equipped to simulate fleet battles of any size. There are also a number of skilled pilots aboard, if you feel like testing yourself...that is, if it hasn't been too long since the Admiral has hooked up her Almfac." Some landers have theorized that Abh society revolves around finding polite ways to insult one another. Never has this theory had more credence than in dealings between Abriels and Spoors.

"How lovely. We don't even control our own ship," she murmured. Spaurh? Sarcastic? Heavens forbid.

She shrugs again, "Well, I wish them luck. I'll let them handle the details... If anything interesting happens, I suppose I'll have to help out."

As Lafiel describes the Sensoriums, a flicker of interest passes over Spaurh's face, "A simulator? Well, I suppose it would be better than nothing. As for piloting..." It's quite clear that the insult has not passed unnoticed, although she would never deign to actually acknowledge it, "...I do believe I am still a decent pilot. It's not like I could possibly forget. Command, on the other hand, is something many still have to learn."

Luly has been lingering along, here and there. Spoor caught her eye—the ears are different, but the same hair, and there's that forehead thing... and she got a little glimpse of Spoor and Lafiel talking earlier, too. She's waited until Lafiel left to approach, though.

She doesn't say anything yet, just look down at the carved stones.

Spoor considers leaving. There's not much else to do here and she really ought to explore the ship and get her bearings - then again, it might take a while. She glances to one side and spots Luly. For a moment she regards her - she's... different from any other human being she's ever met. Although, there's a huge variety of them on the ship. She arches one brow, "...I see I'm not the only one contemplating life and death."

"Lafiel got me thinking about someone I lost... a long time ago." Luly looks over at Spoor, expression carefully neutral and appraising—she doesn't really know what to think about this second Abh woman yet.

And was that familiarity in her voice? Spoor might have found an interesting line to tug on...

"Ah, yes. Age-old loss. So tragic, isn't it?" There's a casual familiarity in her voice, as if she's known Luly for years and this is all friendly teasing. Then again, the biting edge to the words belies that. A smile hovers on her lips as she regards the strange woman.

"And she lost him so recently, too. Such a shame, really. he was an intelligent young man - could've made it far in the Space Forces if he chose to."

And despite those words, they're a bit too light to betray any real sympathy for Lafiel.

Luly letes out a little 'hnfh' of breath. Not quite a laugh or a sigh, but there's a little of both in it. The tone, well, that makes her feel almost a little at home again.

"She told me about some of the time they spent together. I can tell they were... close." She looks wistful and a little bit longing. And there's some clear affection for Lafiel in there, too.

"That's what I've heard myself," she taps her cheek with a pair of fingers. Although, Luly's tone does make her take notice. Interesting.

"Still, this little tomb is a nice gesture, even if it is empty... after all, he was an Abh and deserved respect for that, even if he wasn't born one."

"I hope you're not saying he deserves respect only because he was an Abh," Luly says. Her tone seems relatively gentle, but it's all padding wrapped around a sharp-edged core.

"Oh, of course not," Spoor replies, "He was a good officer, all things considered. Besides, I would say the same thing about any Abh."

If she notices the steel in Luly's tone, she doesn't give any sign of it.

"What if it were a non-Abh?" Luly asks, hands absently straightening out the red wrap-dress of cloth she wears instead of the plantsuits almost everybody else seems to have.

Spaurh slowly sinks into one of the meat-chairs, chin in one hand. She crosses her legs idly and shrugs, "I suppose it depends on how they died. Everyone can die with honor."

She eyes the red wrap and then smiles, crimson eyes flashing, "You have excellent taste in color"

"Thank you," Luly says, put a bit more at-ease now. Rather than sit in one of the meaty chairs, she finds on a spot on the floor, sliding into a loose seiza position (she'd sit crosslegged, but the wrap isn't really meant for that). "Took me a while to find something in the City I could kit into something to wear. I don't like those... things." Her gaze flashes to Spaurh's plantsuit and then away.

"They are rather disgusting, aren't they?" she responds, tugging at one sleeve, "I suppose it's better than going about naked, though. That wouldn't really do..."

She sighed softly, "I don't suppose they have real clothes anywhere?"

"I'm only wearing this because you people," and she gestures in a broad, vague way that seems to indicate Spaurh as well as everybody else, "would complain if I didn't. It's hot enough for it." Given how dark her skin is—there's an subtle inhuman quality in how it lacks some of the undershades of naturally dark human skin—she probably wouldn't have much of an issue with UV rays, were this a planet instead of a badly-temperature-adjusted ship.

"I haven't been able to find any." She frowns. "You can do almost anything in the Sensoriums, but you can't take anything out you didn't bring in with you..."

"Well..." she taps her cheek with two fingers once more, eyes closed. She doesn't seem to be paying that much attention to the conversation (in fact, she might almost be dozing), but she's still talking back and forth as perfectly as ever, "...nudity is something of a taboo. A cultural difference I expect."

One eye cracks open and she examines Luly again, "So, you're not exactly a human. What are you? I'm curious."

The way she speaks, she almost sounds like a slightly petulant child.

"Nudity's only a taboo because you raise your children that way," Luly says, stretching backwards a little. "There's no real reason for it."

She ruffles a hand through her hair. "I'm Nazzadi," she says. So, Lafiel hasn't shared what's happened recently, she thinks, or Spaurh would already know this... "First lieutenant Meluly, NEG army, special operations division." There's a smoothness in how she says it that belies the full title and position—makes it seem more like a full name than anything.

"Perhaps. But I'm not about to try and change our culture over it," She stays in her "doze" position, commenting idly.

"Nazzadi?" She tilts her head to one side, "I've never heard of them. Of course, you're probably not even from my galaxy..." Ah, a military rank. That's something she can respond to quite well. She grins, "Rear Admiral Spaurh aronn Saicspath Nimh Laitpanr Painaigh, Abh Empire Space Forces, First Fleet."

"Impressive," Luly says, giving Spaurh another appraising look. She doesn't really seem like the admiral type... "I was taken from Earth. Not the Earth you know, from what I've heard from Lafiel, but..." She shrugs. "We're an engineered race."

"Thank you," Spaurh steeples her fingers, looking a bit more attentive now. This was getting more interesting. She knew the Abriel? And she was engineered? Intriguing.

"You know Deca-Commander Abriel? How so? And you needn't worry about Earth... I don't think we've been back to that place in a long time... a very long time. We spend most of our time in space." A pause and then she continued, "An engineered race? Really? Why, that practically makes us cousins."

"We're friends... I think," Luly says uncertainly. Unless I screwed things up too much. "We've been here for a while." A hand slides against the back of her neck and shoulder and squeezes in a mild nervous gesture.

"We were made as a servitor race by the Migou—they're, ah, very alien—but we left them and joined humanity." (The Migou weren't very happy about it, her expression adds.)

That gets an arch of a brow and a slight shift in body language as Spaurh leans forward languidly, chin cupped in one hand. She's very good at reading people and the nervousness is not lost on her, "You think? And why would you not be friends any longer?"

The other hand drums against the chair in a random tattoo, "That sounds rather similar to the Abh - except we were created by humanity and left them. Although, we did return in time. Now we seek to create a future without war."

"I think I offended her," Luly says. "It's a—long story." There's just a little hint of embarrassed purple to her cheeks, around the lines and dots of her facial tattoos. "And—a future with war would be nice, but I don't think that'll be the case for a long time with my Earth."

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