[I][B]A Collaboration between Mozombique and Dervinci[/B][/I]

With the shopping out of the way, Iosif was of a mind to to do another checkup on the scrapheaps sitting in the cargo bay of the [i]Borealis[/i]. From what he'd seen of Tanya so far, she probably had more of an idea of how things were going with them and so he decided to head down there for a chat. Besides, after the shit-show they'd been through in the mines, he could've made worse company.

Instead of finding Tanya buried in the guts of some machine, Iosif would find her sitting on a stool behind a paint easel, a container with a half dozen kinds of brushes submerged in filthy water and a few small cannisters of paint lined in a slot off to the side. Her music was playing, although at a much more subdued volume, and she was utterly engrossed in her work. Seeing the metal-armed man approach in the corner of her eye, Tanya looked over at Iosif for a moment before turning back to the canvas. [color=cyan]"What can I do for you? I don't have any of the parts for the ship yet, those are getting delivered in the morning so now's just the waiting game. Doing okay after the mission?"[/color] she asked, cleaning her brush before applying more paint to the bristles. 

Iosif raised an eye at seeing the ship's mechanic hard at work on a [i]painting[/i], of all things and it was mildly amusing to hear that god-awful music in the background, too. [Color=steelblue]"I'm fine, yourself?"[/color] he asked, before continuing. [Color=steelblue]"Made a trip for fuel with Dex and picked up some new VI software in the meantime, so that won't be a concern. I actually wanted to come and check up on things here with you, see if any of the rigs down here are servicable."[/color]

[color=cyan]"Better, I suppose. Serena and I have a bunch of parts that can make the ship operate a bit smoother, and we'll be able to do some heavy work in the shop here once we get that hoist mounted. Right now, my hands are kind of tied, no parts, can't work. In theory you could take the hauler out for a spin, but I wouldn't recommend it. A few of the parts have severe structural problems and while I've patched up the fuel line, we still need a new one before I feel strictly comfortable driving it around. Why do you ask?"[/color] Tanya asked, eyes locked on the task at hand.

[Color=Steelblue]"Could be useful to have them up running in the future, especially if we start taking on jobs on some of these outback worlds."[/color] Iosif remarked, before musing, [color=Steelblue]"Anyways, never took you for a painter. Mind if I took a look?"[/color]

Tanya gestured invitingly for Iosif to have a look. On the canvas was a distinct outline of a varren, still without features filled in, in an old-fashioned suit holding a leash. [color=cyan]"He'll be walking a krogan when all's said and done. Still debating if he needs a monocle or not. But yeah, I've been painting for quite a while now. I dabbled in it as a girl, I use it as something of an escape after, well, Mindoir."[/color] Tanya sighed, cleaning her brush before crossing her arms protectively. [color=cyan]"Look. I wanted to apologize for how the mission went down. I'm sorry you had to see that."[/color]

Despite having come down here with a serious conversation in mind, Iosif couldn't help but relinquish an amused snort at the sight of a varren in formal wear. [color=steelblue]"Monocle would dignify him,"[/color] he nodded in approval at her suggestion, before grunting. [color=steelblue]"Honestly? You handled things pretty well, all things considered. Besides, the others didn't exactly catch on and I was too busy keeping the truck in motion to notice."[/color]

Her face grew heavy and she ground the ball of her foot against the floor. [color=cyan]"No, I didn't. I froze up, nearly didn't come back from it. I put everyone else in danger because I thought I was okay and could face it all again."[/color] tears began to well up in Tanya's eyes, which she wiped away with a swift forearm, unintentionally marking her face with paint, leaving a dark smear across her cheek and nose. [color=cyan]"I still face what I saw at Mindoir every day, when I sleep, when I see batarians... and usually I can keep it at bay by working or otherwise distracting myself. I try to act like nothing gets to me, but every day's a battle, and sometimes like today... I lose. Hard."[/color] she looked up at Iosif, her face taunt and eyes wide. [color=cyan]"How... how do you manage? I know you were there... I know what those monsters did to you. How do you cope with it all?[/color]

Hearing her words made him feel a phantom itch on the back of his neck, that made him reach around and rub at his tattoo. [color=steelblue]"You've seen it, then?"[/color] Iosif twisted his head for a moment to give her a glance of the numerals given to him at the labour camp. Sometimes he'd given thought to burning it off, but at the same time it served as a reminder to him of what he'd endured. Like a badge of honour.

[color=cyan]"I noticed. Same tattoo I've seen on far too many people... too many I couldn't do shit for. I moved on best I could, but things keep coming back and bringing me right back to where I was, and I've relived those days more times than I can count."[/color] Tanya said with a long sigh. [color=cyan]"I mean, the Alliance is supposed to be powerful, and should be able to protect its colonies, right? We couldn't even dislodge a few fucking slavers without heavy loses, and in the end, it didn't matter. I couldn't believe in the Alliance any more after that, just like they gave up on me. So... here I am, in the ass end of space working the saddest line of work I can imagine. I'd give anything to have a good night's sleep."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"The Alliance,"[/color] Iosif paraphrased with a disgruntled snort, [color=steelblud]"Is only powerful when it's convenient. Who cares about a few backwater colonies, filled to the brim with yokels, when they can engage in a flexing-contest with the Turians? But to hell with it, neither of us want to talk politics - that's why we wound up in this line of work, right?"[/color]

Iosif shrugged. [color=steelblue]"To answer your earlier question: [i]Hatred[/i] kept me going for a while, if I'm honest,[/color] he said, curling his cybernetic palm into a fist. [color=steelblue]"I wanted to live and carry on with my life out of spite for those four-eyed fuckers and for the backstabbing lizard who put me in that position to begin with..."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"That, and collecting model ships. Though I'm currently short of a collection."[color] He remarked, with a faint chuckle.

Tanya shook her head. [color=cyan]"I can't imagine what it was like for you. I always saw that galaxy as a place with limitless potential, some way for us all to move past where we came from and start over. Even after my father was killed in the First Contact war, I didn't hate the turians... it was just what happened in war. I guess I knew how fucked up things could be, but never really understood it all until Mindoir. After that, it's hard not to look at everyone and everything in the galaxy through a lens of cynicism. Not a lesson I wanted to learn, but here I am."[/color] she said, before smiling at Iosif's hobby.

[color=cyan]"And models? Goes to show how much any of us know about each other. I guess you had to do more than polish your arm all day and overdue the grease points. You always have a thing for models, or was this a recent fascination?"[/color]

[color=steelblue]"It's been a long-running hobby of mine. I used to watch the shipyards on Lowell as a kid, it gave me a more of a taste for ships with each fighter, bomber and gunship that I pieced together. I had a nice Turian Naval collection back before..."[/color] he hesitated. [I]Before the salarian fucked things.[/i] [color=steelblue]"Certain circumstances forced me to set it aside. At any rate, it's something to pass the time with when I'm not busy assisting Dex in keeping this thing in one piece, or, polishing my arm."[/color] That last one was said with a chuckling tone.

[color=cyan]"Well, maybe we'll find some hobby shop to keep growing your collection while we're here."[/color] Tanya said with a smile. [color=cyan]"I never had much of an interest in ships, truth be told. I loved racing, and fixing up and tuning personnal vehicles. Speaking of Dex, you two getting on alright? The cockpit's too cozy for my tastes."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"Wasn't much of a call for racing where I came from, but I can appreciate the alure of the cockpit. Nothing quite emphasises 'freedom' like having wings. Anyway, our pilot's good, knows what she's doing as well - she'll do fine with me."[/color]

[color=cyan]"And not resentful she's the main and you're her backup?"[/color] Tanya asked, curious. 

[color=steelblue]"What, do I look like an asari?"[/color] Iosif gestured to the back of his head, in reference to their crests. [color=steelblue]"Having two competent pilots available is good and besides, if we're serious about getting some work out there I suspect we'll need two pairs of hands in separate places."[/color]

Tanya snorted. [color=cyan]"No, asari tend to be very pushy when it comes to taking charge. It's like being the people who found the Citadel and started galactic civilization gave them a blank cheque to be extremely demanding."[/color] she said, returning to her painting. [color=cyan]"Two pairs of hands in separate places? Are you talking about another ship?"[/color]

[color=steelblue]"Another ship, or a gunship, or a shuttle - anything."[/color]

[color=cyan]"We'd be hard pressed to fit much in this hanger. A shuttle, maybe... but those don't tend to come cheap. Might have to steal one."[/color] Tanya suggested with a shrug. [color=cyan]"So, before all of this, what did you do for a living?"[/color]

[color=steelblue]"After I'd finished with the Alliance? Same as this, really. Freelance work, with a crew. Smaller than this one, there were... three of us."[/color] He paused for a moment there, as if he were considering something. [color=steelblue]"Had a decent stint as a pilot, throwing in air support and transportation along with my boots on the ground when they were needed."[/color] 

[color=steelblue]"You?"[/color]

[color=cyan]"I tried to move back home... didn't pan out well with mom. She didn't like the person who came home. Whoops."[/color] Tanya rolled her eyes, but her face tightened at the mention. [color=cyan]"So, after a few months of living on my own without much aim and realizing a regular job would be impossible for me to really appreciate or hold down, I started looking at classified ads for captains looking for crew. You know the rest. I just treat this like a military op with a looser set of dress and deportation and absolutely no supervision that can stop me from painting a dinosaur that vaguely resembles Hazan terrorizing people or filling every third cup in the kitchen with dead insects I found off some questionable grocer. Don't tell anyone and I'll send you the the video recordings of the reaction."[/color] she grinned, setting down her brush. The monocle on the varren did look rather fetching.

That solicited another amused snort from Iosif. [color=steelblue]"Sure, wouldn't mind seeing the batarian shit their pants, but remind me not to eat anything from the kitchen."[/color]  He flexed his palm once more, leaning in to get another look at the painting. Yep, he definitely wouldn't have minded having something like that around as a decoration. [color=steelblue]"If we were on Lowell, I'd have half a mind to stop by my old man's office and hang it up. Look on his face would be priceless. At any rate, it's better than the feel-good 'embrace eternity' slop that the asari like to push as 'art'."[/color] 

Things were starting to come together. The crew seemed competent, the ship was theirs and in a strange way, he got a certain feeling of homesickness that he'd not felt in a long time. [color=steelblue]"I almost miss my old ship,"[/color] he remarked, [color=steelblue]"Smaller than this and not much better off, but it was home enough."[/color]

Tanya grinned at Iosif. [color=cyan]"Well, if you're partial to it, I was going to put it on my portfolio and sell it online, but I can part ways with it if it makes you that happy. Did you lose your old crew because of,"[/color] Tanya asked, awkwardly gesturing to the back of her neck, where Iosif's barcode was tattooed. She bit her lip and looked away, embarassed. [color=cyan]"Sorry, I know I shouldn't pry about that shit... I'm sure it's like opening wounds every time someone mentions it, sometimes I speak before thinking."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"[i]No[/i]."[/color] Iosif felt an urge to scratch the back of his neck again. [Color=steelblue]"This happened [i]because[/i] of one of my crew. Not the quarian, the other one. Salarian. Long story."[/color] [i]And not boozed up enough to go into the nail screeching details.[/i] Instead, Iosif waved off her apology. [color=steelblue]"You weren't to know. Besides, the barcode doesn't bother me. Keeps me on my toes, teaches others that I'm not worth the trouble."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"Like our batarian associate."[/color]

Tanya shook her head. [color=cyan]"He's... not bad, and I say that as someone who can't walk down a street without feeling like I'm about to fight for my life when I pass by a batarian. Every fucking day is a struggle to try and fight against that feeling, and to force myself to remember that not every batarian aren't like the guys we just took out. Khosin was right in the middle of it all with the rest of us, even to the point he over extended himself and well... I acted. He's probably alive because of me. Instead of letting the slaver do him in, or turning my shotgun on him, I reacted and saved a [I]teammate[/I]. For a few moments, I forgot what he was and just saw a squadmate who needed help."[/color] she said softly, staring down, her neck flush. 

[color=cyan]"I don't think I'll ever be okay again, Iosif, and I don't think you will be, either. Not after what we've both seen and been through. Every day I think about this little blonde girl, couldn't have been more than six or seven, she was wearing this red dress, and even though we were pinned down, she tried to run to us, to get away from the slavers. Every day, I see her get pulled down into a trench and a bladed arm tear open her throat as she screamed."[/color] Tanya said, her voice raising in pitch, strained. Her fists clenched, white knuckles pressing against her skin. Her eyes were red, tears welling. 

[color=cyan]"I ask myself every time, why didn't I run to save her, because I would have died doing it? Because I was too much of a coward to save a life of a girl who was braver than I'll ever be? I never have an answer... and every day, I watch her die over and over again. The same day, I watch Lewis' head explode from one of those Kishock rifles, and I'm covered with parts of a man who I thought of as family. They're dead, and they were reduced to bloody statistics because so many others died for nothing!"[/color] Tanya was nearly shouting, and she stood up suddenly, shoving her stool away from her. Teeth gritted she paced with arms crossed tightly across her chest, not trusting her hands. It took several agonizing minutes for her to speak again.

[color=cyan]"Look, I know all too well what batarians did to people whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I never know if I'll have the strength to face them again. I have to, no, [i]need[/i] to see Khosin as a person, to remind myself that he wasn't one of the monsters who haunt me. If I can't force myself to at least try to give him the same respect as any of the others because he happens to be a batarian, then what the fuck am I doing on this ship? I'm a liability if I can't put my shit aside and give him a chance, when the only thing he did wrong was be born on the wrong planet."[/color]

Iosif kept silent while Tanya drew her own demons off her chest. It was... [i]strange[/i], to say the least. Almost theraputic in a manner of speaking, her words were in some ways comforting to him. It was good to be affirmed that he wasn't the only one - to hear it from another reliable voice.

She was right. He wouldn't be the same again. [I]Not broken, though.[/i] Just changed. For her, it was the girl, the colonies - the horrors of war. For him, it was the bitter memories of betrayal - of the agonising months spent toiling away in the mines, bearing witness to and experiencing the brutality of the enemy first-hand.

It was only fair that he spoke up about it.

[color=steelblue]"I've... I can't forgive [i]or[/i] forget what was done to me. Maybe... maybe you're right. Perhaps the batarian isn't like the rest of his vile race of pirates and slavers..."[/color] His palms were clenched tight as a vice. [color=steelblue]"Perhaps he is. Time will tell."[/color]

Tanya shook her head slowly. [color=cyan]"Trust me, I get it. We don't have to be friends with Khosin, but the only way this whole crew is going to work is if we learn to trust one another. Besides, maybe having him around can help me see a better side to batarians and help me but some of this shit behind me, you know? As long as he keeps shooting the bastards who destroyed our lives, I think he's a cause worth fighting for."[/color] she said, sighing as she resumed her work. [color=cyan]"Sorry about unloading on you like that. It's just weird having someone to talk to about this shit that actually understands it. Everyone here is fucked up in their own special way... I just am glad I have someone I can relate to in a way that matters."[/color]

He shrugged. [color=steelblue]"I suppose. As I said, time will tell."[/color] His tone was a little dismissive, though in truth it was good to hear her speak. They might not've seen eye to eye on the matter of the batarian, but for all intents and purposes this conversation had cemented a little faith in his colleague. [color=steelblue]"And I think,"[/color] Iosif began, with a thin smile, [color=steelblue]"We're all fucked up. Why else would we dirty our hands with this business?"[/color]

[color=cyan]"Sure as shit isn't the pay."[/color] Tanya grinned. [color=cyan]"I don't know about you, but trying to do normal civvie shit is insufferably boring after you get a taste for flying through the stars and picking fights with the galaxy's worst scum. I wouldn't last in an office a week before I, I don't know, came to work with a shotgun and some flashbangs and started fortifying my cubicle. What about you, why this? I can think of a dozen other jobs someone with your qualifications would make a killing at."[/color]

[color=steelblue]"You make a good point,"[/color] Iosif remarked, scratching his thumb and index finger together. [color=steelblue]"Because I intend to live my life on [i]my[/i] terms."[/color] His tone suggested that it was the only answer she'd yield from him and one that would've opened up more skeletons. Well, not exactly skeletons - last Iosif had heard, his parents had ascended the ladder at R&D on Lowell and the old man was now the Research Director, but he wasn't interested. They'd [i]made[/i] their choices a long time ago.

[color=steelblue]"Anyway... once we're off this floating carcass, where next?"[/color] he asked, rather pointedly, as if [i]she[/i] were the one making the call. [color=steelblue]"Assuming we make a stop by Terra Nova, what's our destination after that?"[/color]

Tanya shrugged. [color=cyan]"Not my call, I'm not the captain, no matter how much Serena wants me to be. If we get any contract offers, I have it set to go to a temporary address that forwards it all to each of us."[/color]  She said. As if God was paying attention and felt like creating one of those improbable coincidences, her omni-tool beeped, and Iosif's dead moments later. Activating her omni-tool, Tanya surveyed the message and the new contract, she quietly filed it away in a seperate folder. [color=cyan]"Well, might as well ping the crew to be down in the common area in fifteen."[/color] she said, gathering up her materials and hopping off her stool. She stood for a moment, as if lost in thought. Turning to Iosif with a nod, she offered him a fleeting smile. [color=cyan]"Hey, good talk. I needed that."[/color] she said, turning to store her painting supplies away.

[color=steelblue]"Yeah, good talk. Meet you down there."[/color] Iosif nodded, heading off to the common area to get a head start on the rest of them. Though he never said so, it felt as if their conversation had done [i]him[/i] some good as well.