[b]Isabelle and Solarel[/b] The shuttle stays relatively low, traveling around the curvature of the planet, rather than out of atmosphere. Dipping into the clouds is an interesting experience. They’re very dense, so thick you can’t see much outside the windows, but they reflect with a wild neon of colors from the light above, and when you crest briefly above them before going back in, you see a blue sky from the odd light of the Cerulean Belt. Faintly in the sky hang Cerul and Azure, the two other planetary systems within the belt, though countless other stars, as yet unjumpable, twinkle in the odd azure sky. Annika straightens herself, Crescent was already piloting, and Lilika busies herself with chores while the lioness works on treating her companion. This shuttle is too small for a proper medical, but it’s got cots in the back and first aid, and the other lioness was more shocked than anything because of her armor. It’s a tight-knit crew, and you can see they know how to function efficiently together, with Annika herself the most stand-out as having nothing to do. She seems perfectly aware that the two of you are having a moment though, and busies herself reviewing a small datapad with a mesh link interface for rapid review. Once the shuttle starts its dip back down, it keeps going down. And down. And down. You can tell because even though the shuttle’s systems dampen the inertia and the view out the windows is still pointed at sky, there’s a feeling of slanted gravity that indicates the nose of the ship is tipped downward and the “floor” is pushing on you at an angle. You can’t be going this far down, the shuttle wasn’t that high and it would make no sense for them to slow down this much and make themselves visible below cloud level after all that effort to hide. Yet there’s the ground, this area more mountainous and rocky, coming into view and then coming right at you and YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH! Only, you don’t, and you don’t stop either. The ground makes space for you here, and you find yourself flying down through a manufactured tunnel in the Zaldarian style. Down into the crust of the planet. Annika is looking pleased with herself. Solarel, you can see that there are geists here, directing the nanobots. Simple but old geists, their form like flashes of electricity and color in the walls. This area is teaming, alive, active on its own in a way you haven’t seen since you were in the Zaldarian core systems. Isabelle, you cannot see such a thing, but you can feel a current of energy in these walls that makes your heart beat fast and your hair stand up a little. Take one more moment for each other, or longer than a moment perhaps, you have a little interplanetary shuttle ride to take it all in and get your bearings, or your fluster as the case may be. *** [b]Mirror[/b] You watch Matty’s face go through a ride of emotions as you speak. There’s that spike of disappointment that hit you so hard when she heard you weren’t interested in the shop, and her face lighting up. She’s got a reaction too when you mention the consult and the tampering, a more thoughtful pose, her ears twitch and a claw starts scratching absentmindedly at a spot on her cheek that she obviously worries when she’s thinking. It’s interesting seeing an engineer like this. There’s no reason for Matty to hold in her emotions, but she’s just less guarded than most of the huntresses, not so much mystique to her, and being a hybrid and so far out of her element, you get the sense that she just kind of goes in for wearing her heart on her sleeve. Probably nobody else can even read her at all if she doesn’t outright say what she’s feeling, but she’s a volunteer for this job (she’s paid, but she had to put herself out there and wanted to do this). “Okay, we do consults all the time, actually. Let me just…Trosta! Hey, hey Trosta! Okay, come here, this way.” She guides you to the back, shouting Trosta’s name a couple times. The Zaldarian offers a brief wave of her hand, then goes back to her smithing. She’s taken what she’s working on out of the old forge now and she’s working it carefully with the hammer. Tink tink tink in small rapid hits. It doesn’t seem particularly complex, her current work. She’s hammering down some kind of tapering metal rod, her fine work ensuring that it tapers evenly to a point. Spearhead maybe? Seems too long for that, maybe something like a tent stake though why in all the moons would she be doing that? Well, no need to wait on that one. She finishes her last work and quenches the rod, then holds it up for inspection and finally looks at you. Unlike Solarel, she speaks directly, not bothering with hand gestures. Her voice is low and husky, matching her bronze-muscles to a tee. “Well, what’ve you got Matty shouting across the room about?” Matty scurries up and stage whispers to her what you were discussing. She looks at you again, Mirror, and cocks her head which is something like raising an eyebrow for a being without eyebrows. “You come to me with your problem. Good, good. We’ll do fine work for you, first of all Hybrasilian pilots to grace my new shop. Matty will do work for you, materials synthesis at the least, and I will help you with your problem. You bring me this problem, it must be my type of problem. Let me show you.” She steps away from the forge and holds the pointed rod out in front of her and begins to hum. It’s a low hum that thrums through her large, bronze body with resonance, and as you watch, a nearby table disassembles itself and shifts into a cloudy form. She lifts the tone just a hair and gestures with her…her wand maybe, her sharp wand and the nanobots form into a cloudy sculpture of you, almost a mirror reflection. They hold this pose, and then she makes a sort of stirring motion with her wand and they fade into a circular cloud. She adjusts the tone again, and the material is transformed into a pair of sitting chairs, wide with armrests for the two of you, rather than the table. She sits, folding her long bird-like legs one atop the other and gestures for you to do the same. “It’s not the rod” she says without any prompting. “The rod is for me, so that I think the right thoughts. The sound and the thoughts, these are the things that spirits hear. On Zaldaria and Marathia, everything is like this, and because it is in everything, there can be greater things. Thus are gods born, and their empresses in turn. But their hearts, big or small, are sound and thought merged together. If this thing you think was done was by one of my people, this would have been a thing that was heard. If it was not remarked, then it was because the hearer found it unremarkable. Ask your guards what they heard when this could have happened and you will find something out of place if this thing truly did happen.” She leans back, reaches an arm out to place her wand atop her anvil, not so far from the chair. “I’ll send your masters my bill for the consultation. But I would also know about you. Tell me your story, it will make for finer components for your armor if I know its heart.” *** [b]Dolly[/b] Just Dolly. Your paw is on the bola caster, and nobody else’s. Not Ksharta, who is running her cargo around the turn in that loping run that plains Hybrasilians have for covering distance. Not Jade, who has given you this task. Not your sister or your family or anyone else deciding this for you. Just you. Just Dolly. You can win this easily. It’s not that Angela isn’t suspicious, how could she not be when greeted by a cat rickshaw driver wearing a loud pink-flowered shirt and mirrorshades who pulled her out of the settled area? Say rather that she is bemused, and just uncertain enough about what this all means that she’s a viable target. She’s such a viable target! She’s dressed more casually tonight, wearing a TC pilot’s trousers, but she’s got her jacket off and all she’s wearing on top is a tight short-sleeved black shirt that accentuates the shape of her arms, her chest, and her back. There’s so much there. So much to want. So much to fall into, to squeak and reveal yourself and give her a chance to dodge the shot. Ksharta won’t know what to do if the plan goes awry, she’s never done this before! She’ll probably freeze and Angela will take the missed shot, cover the gap and pin you down before you get a second. Imagine feeling the heat of her breath as she pants from the sudden sprint, her strength all pressed upon you. You can lose this easily. It’s your choice, what do you want, Dolly? Or, here’s one more option. If you really, really can’t decide, then line up the shot, close your eyes extra tight, say a prayer to Jade, and see what fate offers you when you pull the trigger.