Spacey Supers IC

[Volthawk]

On the whole, Talberon is a rather ugly planet, covered with large industrial complexes with attached sprawls of population. The native Talba feed on certain compounds found in high abundance in the planet's crust, and as such mining and processing is of major importance to them - what started as primitive mining with their digging claws has developed into a planet-spanning industry, their main product in inter-coalition trade. There is one main exception to this general appearance though - the Port Sector, located in the middle of Talberon's largest continent. Starting as just the site of the first spaceport, it's rapidly developed into a larger region that handles matters with other powers and species over the last few centuries. The native Talba designs are still present, but merely stand as a backdrop to the array of styles from the various species present, as each sets up their own space as they see fit, and smaller spaceports have blossomed around the central one, specialised towards handling certain matters - one dedicates itself to handling imports of the minerals that serve as food, for instance.

The central port itself is a huge complex, a mile or two wide in total, designed to handle most immediate matters and process new people - although the Talba still display their typically lax behaviour towards such matters, meaning that it doesn't really serve to catch anyone that well and is easy to fool. More importantly, it's also where most major players on the planet have a presence, and thus where people go if they really want to get something sorted. The planet's authorities, galactic companies with interests here, some lucky outsider powers (the Talba have proved very open to interactions outside the Coalition, especially compared to some of their allies), they all have presences here in some form or another. It is also home to a market of sorts, an eclectic array of traders and goods, most of which are trying to cater to a somewhat higher class of person, even if just by making their products look a lot better than they are. The complex is also home to some lavish high-class residences, where the rich of society have found it trendy to live in, among the alien, and not all such residents are above board. Naturally such a massive complex has a large underground area, nowhere near as well kept and where the work gets done to keep things running - it is also where many workers live, a rather less nice area compared to the surface, still a place where you can buy and sell, but with a rather less elite sort of target market.

For whatever reason is important to you, you are all somewhere within this complex, and there seems to be a tense atmosphere. The word floats around that a group were arrested when they were caught trying to sneak some kind of weapon in - nobody's quite clear on what it is, but the Talba have never been strict about personal weapons so naturally people have started filling in the gaps with wild theories.


OK I'll be honest, I couldn't really get what I'm about to say put down in a nice way IC, so here we go on suggestions for where people might be starting/where they'll go given what's been said in the chat/OOC about why they're here:
- As mentioned, the authorities are present here - in particular, law enforcement has a fairly strong presence here in a rather central position, and in particular those most adept at dealing with aliens are here - if I didn't miss anything and Trinity+Hitchhiker are here to help, that's where they'd want to go.
- Depending on who Lawerie wants to talk to first, both Inkstar Productions and the law (as mentioned above) have a presence here.
- For the big lot trying to find the Rutherford's lost scientist, there's the office dedicated to keeping track of new people (who admittedly are notoriously lax with it), the law as above or you could take another approach based on what's around.
- For Katelyn and Caprice, I didn't quite see any statement of what they'd be here to do, but hopefully I put down enough that you can find some reason for them to be here - I figure there's enough of a mix of stuff that you should find something character appropriate, if not let me know and I can change things a little (or more likely just add something).
- Or naturally any of you can just go somewhere else that catches your eye if you think it works better

So there we go, that's the OP for now (barring me having to clarify/add anything). No massive heroism-inducing disasters yet.

[Quellian-dyrae]

The Questers were in a bit of an interesting position with regards to the Outer Coalition. They were more-or-less known, at least by the people and organizations that interacted at all with the wider Galactic Community, but they didn't have the sort of established trust and reputation that they enjoyed throughout the rest of the galaxy. The Questers were an old and established institution, but among planets who had never really had dealings with them, it was easy enough to take them to be merely "space police", or see them as a potentially inconvenient interference with the way they inserted themselves into a planet's problems.

Which was why the Springs siblings had been chosen to serve as the face(s) of the organization in the Coalition, travelling between the different worlds there to meet with local governments and law enforcement organizations, explain who the Questers were and what they were actually about, and just go around and be seen, hopefully helping the iconic image of the white-cloaked protector with a sword of light enter into the public lexicon.

They had been selected for a few reasons. Primarily, because they were natives of the region. Naiar was one of the planets whose recent technological growth (specifically, evolving their gravity-warping technology to the point that it was usable for FTL travel) had been a factor in the growth of interstellar interactions within the Coalition. The world had been involved in the original Coalition agreement, and had been trading regularly with other worlds since then. Naians were a known people in the Coalition, and the Questers deemed it best that this sort of introduction be done by members of a familiar race, to show that they weren't just a bunch of outsiders, but had people from the Frontier in their ranks as well.

But it was also because the Questers were an old and established organization. They were proud. And they were busy. Busy dealing with interstellar criminal empires, genocidal maniacs, WPAs, and all manner of other gravely serious matters. Most of them considered playing diplomat kinda beneath them. The Springs siblings, though, were relatively new Questers, so they thought nothing of it. Amy, in fact, was overjoyed to have a mission that didn't (inherently, necessarily) involve fighting. And it would serve as a good way to show Hitchhiker more about just what the Questers actually were and did.

And, well, that was the other thing. Their goal was to represent the Questers. As such, they had been cheerily encouraged to assist in dealing with any disasters, crimes, or other problems they encountered (as far as they were allowed by local law, of course), even if they would normally be considered beneath a Quester's notice. They were all fans of this plan. On an institutional scale, yes, of course, they understood why Questers focused only on macro-scale matters. There simply weren't enough of them to deal with smaller-scale crimes and disasters throughout even a fraction of the galaxy. Their power had to be exerted where it could do the most good. But still...few were the Questers who could simply stand by and let people come to harm even when they were involved in a much more serious case, and being actively encouraged to seek out threats to thwart and wrongs to right was pleasant. Nadia in particular was happy to have a chance to "get back to basics" with the heroing.

So they made their rambling way through the Central Port, seeking out the primary law enforcement offices but not necessarily taking the most direct route. They stopped to get a bite to eat, browse some vendor's stalls, and maaaaaybe took a wrong turn a time or two more than seemed statistically probable for three people with eidetic memories. This was very probably because Nadia had taken it upon herself to take the lead. While their people as a whole could be recognized well enough throughout the planets of the Outer Coalition, they themselves were still new to interplanetary travel, and Nadia was eager to explore. She regularly snapped pictures of interesting things they passed, sometimes getting some or all of them into the shot, eagerly pointing out to Hitchhiker and her siblings any cool thing she noticed. Caleb served to actually keep them moving in at least the general direction of their destination, keeping Nadia from completely hijacking their day for tourism. He revealed little expression at the things they passed, not because it wasn't new and interesting, but just maintaining an air of Quester dignity. He didn't want to look like a tourist, especially not while wearing the cloak. And Amy followed along, not quite as enthusiastic as her sister, but still showing attention and interest and occasional surprise at what they passed. She was a quietly mediating presence between the two of them, gentle words and gestures subtly deployed to distract Caleb from any frustration from Nadia's whimsical delays, or Nadia from any disappointment when Caleb insisted they get moving.

[Yatogami Odin]

Provisional Citizen ID #0886: Codename 'Hitchhiker' (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=21160309&postcount=4)

Hitchhiker cheerily follows Trinity's lead, engaging Nadia tit for tat on Talberon's many exciting vistas. They were exciting to Hitchhiker, at least, since she had not yet seen even some of the more common sights the galaxy had yet to offer.

Her current form is that of a petite humanoid girl, an adult in proportions but with the slightness of frame expected of a child with waist-length white hair to complement her Quester's cloak (though, as usual, her "clothing" was just a product of her shapeshifting, rather than an actual external product). Her eyes shine with the brilliance of garnets, though some might be disturbed that she has far more than just the two in her face - to better take in the visuals as they walk, Hitchhiker spawns a number of eyes across her cloak and even in her hair without ever breaking stride. Indeed, a great number of eyes wink into and out of existence as she converses with Nadia, heedless of the reactions of those around her.

[Inspector Valin]

Lawerie Feydra

Within a slick, back, luxury transport vehicle, Lawerie Feydra is looking out across the busy streets of the Central Port Complex, watching the hustle and bustle of sentient life flow through the city around her. The executive is, as ever, wearing an impeccably tailored suit. Inkstar need to see that they are appreciated by their parent company, and after that, the Police Comissioner will need to see just how seriously Flitterworks takes the possibility of a Talberon Law Enforcement contract. But that would come later. A secure message to the Chief Comissioner of Law's office, a brief conversation to confirm the details of the meeting they'd already agreed upon, and then, back to the pitch and negotiating table. Just as always

But not yet. That was all later in the day. For now, Lawerie's job is to see just how the Talba employees at Inkstar Productions have been spending her money. All routine, all simple, one way or another. The frontier CEO sighs, her eyes darting across the crowd. In the distance, she notes a few white cloaks blowing in the wind beside a food cart. Hmm...

[roll0] Perception to spot Hitch and the trio

3 Hours Earlier: Talberon Outer Orbit

"They called themselves the Raj'Tujahl."

Lawerie is standing by the viewscreen of her ship. The spacelanes of Talberon are always packed with a multitude of different ships, all either assuming orbit or waiting their chance to make orbital dock. However, her focus is on a familiar sight. The CEO looks out towards Itzallus, as though her words could carry across the void towards the great Leviathan. With a smile, she taps on the rim of her data-slate, not needing to look down to recall the contents. "Roughly translated, it means Company of the Gloriously Mad. They were a band of explorers, bound together by the word of some old Skylord. Seeking out new tunnels, new seems, new minerals; all deeper than any Talba had gone before. Legends say that they fought with giant rock monsters, thousands of miles beneath Talberon's surface, in search of the rarest gems that ever existed."

The Ginozan businesswoman glances back down at her slate, flicking the page down to send information flying before her. "That's a rather brutal summary. There's more to it, individual members of the group, their supposed deeds, a few Great Last Stands. It's a fairly rich mythology." Lawerie sighs, taking her seat by the viewscreen, and looking down at the planet below. "I just hope today's Talba are as good at telling stories as their ancestors."

[Dorni]

Talberon Spaceport

The smallfolk are fascinating. They rushed around the spaceport, each eager to be somewhere else. No matter what they were doing it always needed to be done right now. Not one of them took the time to bask in the sun or smell the metals. They didn't even talk to each other. There'd been a few smallfolk that seemed to enjoy their surroundings and occasionally one had stared at Itzadrone, but those were the exceptions among the thousands of smallfolk he'd seen pass by in the... 4 hours? they'd been standing in line. It was sometimes hard to keep track of the short units the smallfolk used to measure time.

Itzallus swiveled Itzadrone's head away from the window to look back at his companions. In orbit over the planet, Itzallus himself rolled halfway over, letting the light of this system's sun soak into his ventral side. He didn't quite understand why they insisted on calling his humanoid drone by the name Itzadrone - he observed smallfolk using communication devices all the time without giving the device a unique name. Still, allowing it seemed to make the smallfolk more comfortable.

In contrast to the rush outside, the smallfolk inside this "Talberon Immigration Department" seemed in no hurry. They'd taken a number when they'd entered and been told to wait until it was called, so they'd taken a seat among the assortment of benches that made up the 'waiting area'. Itzadrone's functions wouldn't have been degraded by standing that long, but it seemed impolite not to follow the rules when meeting the Talberon family. Of course, some of their party hadn't taken the wait as well as the others.

"Calming: See Ford? Our number is next."


3 Hours Earlier: Talberon Outer Orbit

{Mmm. I would like to see those minerals and rock monsters while I'm here,} the great Leviathan sang back quietly. The entire star system didn't need to hear this.

A moment later, the song resumed.{Mythology. This word is not familiar to me. I assume it refers to a collection of stories? Do you believe these stories to be untrue?}

[Tar Palantir]

Sparrow was not a big fan of lines.

Obviously she understood their necessity, and in contrast to the alternative of shoving crowds of people all trying to force their way through to be next, standing in a queue did not seem so bad. Indeed, Sparrow had less reason than most to be bothered by standing in line. She had tapped into the Talberon extranet the moment Itzallus dropped to sublight speeds, and had spent the past several hours combing through the vast amounts of mostly-frivolous information trying to glean anything relevant to their search, as well as basic background information on the planet and its inhabitants. Even as she sat on the bench tapping her foot impatiently, she was downloading, parsing, and collating more data than an organic mind could sift through in a month. Unfortunately for her, this meant that she was using less than a quarter of her available processing power for data-mining, leaving the larger portion of her attention unoccupied.

Which meant she was just the tiniest bit bored.

Sparrow had opted to disembark 'wearing' her super uniform, a blue and sea green suit apparently made of a spandex-like material (actually made of nanites, of course, but that was neither here nor there). Strictly speaking, she didn't need to do the costume thing out here, but she generally preferred to do so. It made her think of home, and helped remind her that she wasn't a cop, or a Quester, or a random do-gooder or vigilante. She was a superhero.

A superhero waiting in line.

For four.

Hours.

She snorted at Itzadrone's comment. "Yeah, so we probably only have another hour or so to go. I know that doesn't seem like much to you, but you're a hundred times my age and my brain runs a thousand times faster than yours on top of that. I wasn't made to idle like this. If I didn't have an extranet connection to give me something to do, I'd be climbing the walls."

[Thokk_Smash]

Crowds. Back on Orogander, a crowd of people meant one of a few things: an amassing army; hangers-on of the army, looking for scraps from a battle; or the huddled masses, looking for shared solace in their lives. So different from the crowds gathered on Talberon. These crowds are full of life, and the promise of novelties the likes of which Orogander had never known. And they also have one thing Itzadrone wasn't expecting, as the machine turns to face Ford: for the man in question had been long gone, vanished into the crowd the Itzadrone had been lost in thought staring at for the past several hours.

Y'see, crowds mean something else to Ford: there's no place easier to escape notice than in a crowd, and there was no way Ford was going to sit still for gods-know how many hours doing nothing. All three of them didn't need to wait in line; the others could keep their spot, and they had his commlink frequency if they needed to catch him.

At this moment, Ford is perched on the corner of a rooftop, gazing out at the scenery with unabashed amazement and curiosity. He's already made a quick circuit of the neighboring spaceports, just quick reconnaissance for later sightseeing. When he got back to the main spaceport he checked in on Itzadrone and Sparrow quick. Just as he'd suspected, they hadn't seemed very close to being called on.

And so, he takes a walk through the Central Complex's underground area. He mostly ghosts through the crowd, unseen and unheard, as he picks up bits and pieces of gossip and the words of the street. These are the people that most remind him of his home: under the heel of those who think themselves superior.

After awhile has passed, he makes his way back to the Immigration Department and slots himself back into the line just in time for their number to be called. "What'd I miss?" he asks his group with an ironic smile.

Ford has a Platform Flight speed of Rank 5 (900ft/round), bumped up to Rank 6 with a Routine Mobility check (1800ft/round), and he only needs to end his round solidly supported. It shouldn't be much trouble for him to have taken a quick trip around the immediate area within 4+ hours.

His Stealth Master Benefit lets him Stealth without needing Concealment, and with a +20 for Stealth for a Routine of 30, and Second Chance (Stealth to avoid detection), it's highly unlikely for him to be spotted.

Expertise (Streetwise) to get a feel for the current feel of the underground, and possibly an independent lead on a pertinent scientist for them? [roll0]

[Tar Palantir]

Sparrow answers Ford first with a deadpan glare. "We all died and went to Hell. No, I take that back. Even the most sadistic creator imaginable would blanch at the thought of subjecting sapient beings to this sort of unending agony. Perhaps we suffer at the unthinking hands of some eldritch horror so vast and inscrutable that we are as far beneath its notice as microbes are beneath yours." She pauses, then adds, "It would have to be a pretty impressive eldritch horror for Itzy to be that far beneath its notice, but if this torture has taught me anything, it's that the only thing truly impossible at this point is them ever calling our goddamn number." She exhales, a quick huff of pent-up tension, before saying in a tone of obviously-feigned cheer, "So how was your little adventure?"

[Inspector Valin]

3 Hours Earlier: Talberon Outer Orbit

Lawerie smiles at Itza's request. Rock monsters might be challenging, but she can see about minerals. She leans back in her chair, pondering the Leviathan's question. "Some of them are untrue. But that does not affect them all. The Raj were a historical group, there are records of their existence and... some of their deeds. But over time, people add more stories to the mythology. Sometimes based on real events, sometimes completely made up. But all those smaller stories support the larger one. Even if you don't believe everything that happened to them, you can believe that the Raj'Tujahl were real, and were impressive. That they did venture below the surface and faced impossible odds.."

The frontier CEO takes a sip from her glass, sighing to herself. "And right now, that's the story Talberon needs to hear. A group of individuals, who still function and work together against things they couldn't understand. People from different families and lands who none the less cared for each other." Lawerie glances across to her data-slate, before looking out the viewscreen towards Itzallus again. "Talba are traditionally very group oriented, placing a lot more stock in their actions as a family or community than individuals. That's one of the things FTL travel has been challenging for the younger generation. They see aliens who act alone, who forge their own path through the galaxy, and start to feel more distanced from their old ways. The story of the Raj'Tujahl is a middle ground. It shows the strengths of a group as the strengths of its individual members. And has lots of excitement and drama. Hopefully that's something older and younger Talba can both enjoy."

[Comissar]

Katelyn stretched her arms above her head as the soft whine of the Damselfly's engines dying down echoed through her ship. She looked out at the hustle and bustle outside with interest. She'd caught wind that her boss would be here, and needed to do a resupply run anyway, so she'd decided she might as well take a bit of shore leave.

Clambering out of her pilot's seat, she made her way toward the back of her ship. She hesitated at the airlock, glancing at her stashed hood and rifle. She wasn't expecting any trouble, but with the rumours she'd been hearing... A moment later, she was out in the docks, rifle over one shoulder and hood covering her eyes. She made her way through the crowds as best she could, tracing an uneven line toward the market.

As she walked, she cycled her hood's transmitter through to the company frequency. "Hey Boss, you listening?"

[Inspector Valin]

LGC: Central Complex, Port Sector, Talberon

"Kate!" Lawerie's face brightens at the familiar voice. She sits up, scanning the surrounding area for the pilot of the Damselfly. Yes, that makes no sense, but Lawerie had grown up without personal comms. Old instincts sometimes die hard. Chuckling a little after that, Lawerie sits back in her seat, phone still to her ear. "What're you doing on Talberon? I've got some meetings, but if you're free we could probably have lunch together. Local cuisine is just moss, but there's some good off-worlder restaurants spread out across the Port Sector."

[Comissar]

Katelyn smiled to herself, "Just restocking, heard you might be around too so I thought I'd try my luck." She grimaced as the press of the crowd shoved her off to one side, trying to scoot around to find her footing again.

"I'll be in the markets if you want to try and find me, just give me a call when you're finishing up."

Approaching one of the stalls, Kate began browsing the available selection, frowning as Lawerie's words proved true. Moss didn't make a particularly appetising meal. Fishing in her pockets, she pulled out some credits and bought a small portion anyway, nodding her thanks to the merchant as she moved on. She glanced around the market area, frowning under her hood, "I can't really see any landmarks, know anywhere we could both get to?"

[Inspector Valin]

Lawerie taps at her vehicle's passenger screen, browsing through a few possible options for meeting points before finding one with a smile. "There's a restaurant called the Stargazer that you might like. Bills itself as serving true intergalactic cuisine. They have this faux-Naiar vibe going on: anti-grav suspended gardens and small flying genecritters over steel and wood. Should be easy to spot from ground level once you're past customs. They're near the main gate, and they have a whole bunch of glass capsule elevators running from the street to ferry customers to the upper level."

The Flitterworks executive is almost ready to leave it at that, but then a thought strikes her. She picks the phone back up, tone a touch more serious. "Be careful Kate. Today is the one day in the last two decades Talberon border guards actually caught someone. I don't have the details yet, but... well, don't take any risks, ok?"

[Comissar]

Katelyn sighed inwardly at Lawerie's warning. Official channels always took so long... "Don't worry, I'll be sensible. Catch you soon."

Closing down the comm-link, she made her way to the immigration office. She died a little inside when she saw the queue stretching out from it. Shaking her head slightly, she muttered to herself "Sorry boss, no way I'm waiting for hours just for a bit of lunch..."

She continued to walk past the office, as though to head back to the ramshackle market just outside the entrance to the port proper. As she did, she walked slowly, scanning for any hidden entryways she could make use of.

Katelyn's going to be scanning for any poorly guarded spot, or handy gap she can squeeze through.

Perception - [roll0]

Also, could she use Technology/Expertise:Technology to fake an entry ID? Or at least bypass the security checkpoint (assuming it's automated rather than constantly manned)?

[Dorni]

3 Hours Earlier: Talberon Outer Orbit

Itzallus rotated slowly upward before settling down, briefly baring his ventral side to the Flitterworks space station in a Leviathan gesture of thought as he absorbed her transmission. The thought was amusing in a way. Lawerie was an Alpha of her kind, a smallfolk that other smallfolk deferred to. Lawerie had accomplished impressive feats for one of the smallfolk, but she hadn't done it alone. There were other portholes on the station filled with faces.

{I do not know how smallfolk can claim to act alone. Just look at the planet. They have erected so many buildings in their gathering places that they change the color of the planet's surface. They cover their city in so many lights that they light the dark side of the planet. No single Talban created it all. It was the work of many, building upon each other.

Even the smallfolk who travel the galaxy by themselves are not alone. My kind travel the stars as we please. Smallfolk rely starships to do the same, but none of your kind can construct one entirely alone. Their journeys are made possible by the efforts of entire families.}

His song resumed a moment later.

{Actually, there is one that could do it, but she's a special case. I should introduce you later.}

[Quellian-dyrae]

"So what do you think Hitch, do you have anything in particular you want to do or see while we're here?" Nadia asked. Sure, they were here on business and such, but that didn't completely preclude leisure time.

"Or, just, in general while we're traveling?" Amy added. The triplets still weren't quite clear on how long Hitchhiker had been on that meteor or what her life had been like before that, but they understood well enough that her experience with normal things - however one could describe that in a galactic community as expansive and varied as their own - was limited.

[Thokk_Smash]

Ford gives a chuckle as devoid of mirth as Sparrow's forced-cheery tone. "Sounds like my planet should've had a copyright on this, then," he mutters.

"It was wonderful by the simple fact that I was not here." He lowers his voice to only be heard by his group, and continues, "I could have been in and out of there in the time I spent whiling away the hours. If this place could lead us to a way for Shayna to get out of that thing, we shouldn't be wasting time."

His expression is pretty neutral, but there is a subtle mulish set to his face that is the greatest expression of his impatience. In their time together, Itzallus and Sparrow would have learned that Ford does not express himself very openly. No doubt due to his years of indoctrination, he doesn't react to things in the way a normal person would--but then again, none in their group is truly "normal" by societal standards.

But one thing he has been expressly clear about: he cares for Shayna to a great degree. He has been open in his desire to get her a way to function outside of the mech she is trapped in.

[Tar Palantir]

Sparrow gives Ford a sympathetic smirk, and answers in a low tone, "I hear you, and believe me I share the desire to get moving, but just because we can circumvent the established system and do as we wish doesn't make it right to do so. If the situation becomes urgent or official channels fail us, that's one thing, but it's not a big leap from disrespecting the limitations of societal bounds and disrespecting those who do abide by those restrictions. It may not seem like a big deal, and it probably isn't, but...." She looks away, mouth twisted in thought, apparently struggling to find a way to express herself. Finally, she says simply, "Good people don't need rules, but I do."

She shakes her head, and her previous levity returns. "Besides, it probably won't really be that much longer. Assuming our wait up to this point was fairly representative, we should be called sometime in the next fifteen to eighteen minutes. I'm sure we can endure that much longer, at least."

[Dorni]

Talberon Spaceport

"Reassurance: I am sure it will not take that long. Even if it does, you will not cease to function in that time. Supportive: You have a long life ahead of you. I am sure you will learn to be patient."

Itzallus turned the drone's head to face Ford, tracking the man with its non-functional eyes. Like Itzallus himself, the drone could see in all directions. It was a functionally useless action, but it was the principle. Smallfolk interactions abide by a number of unwritten rules and restrictions, and like Sparrow said, it isn't a big leap from disrespecting the limitations of societal bounds and disrespecting those who do abide by those restrictions. Breaking those unwritten rules often unnerved the smallfolk, so while in smallfolk society, the Leviathan tried to do as the smallfolk did. It was why he prefaced his monotone words with an emotive - the rich tapestry of meaning and subtle variations in a Leviathan's song just didn't translate into galactic common and got lost. Since the lost meaning could cause misunderstandings, the Leviathan prefixed his drone's monotone dialog with an emotive to clarify his tone.

"Mild surprise: Surely you cannot be that impatient. Plainly: I agree with Sparrow. I share your desire to assist Shayna but the Talba here are the most likely to be able to help us. If they cannot, we are no worse for having respected their rules."

[Thokk_Smash]

Ford regards Sparrow first, then Itzadrone, with that same almost neutral expression. "You're both right, of course," he says in a matter-of-fact way. The corner of his lip curls almost imperceptibly, the only visible show of his irritation at Itzadrone's crack at his impatience. And they are. He knows, objectively, that there is no rush. Shayna will not break down, as far as they can tell. Even if left alone, she'll continue to exist in her current state indefinitely.

And that's the whole point. She's existing right now. She's not living, the way Ford or Sparrow or Itzallus is. She has her Shadrone, sure, and that's helped her so much. So much. Ford cannot be thankful enough to Itzallus for that. Whenever Ford pilots the Shadow Gundam, his and Shayna's...souls(?) touch. They merge together in a way that could never be properly described. He is her, and she is him, and they share everything. It was terrifying at first, but in the years since...leaving his planet, this bond has helped him beyond measure.

Which is why he knows that Shayna's situation is terrifying. She cannot move. She cannot interact with the outside world except with radio communication. She has no real agency. The similarity to his situation before he met her is stark, and uncomfortably close, and hasn't escaped him at all. He doesn't want her to be forced to spend a single second longer trapped in that mech than she has to.

But...he doesn't know how to properly convey that to these two. Not that he's particularly deft with words in the first place, but this subject is nearly impossible to just spring on someone else for even someone with normal social skills. So he shrugs, and with an undercurrent of frustration under the monotone he says, "I just want her out of that mech."

[Tar Palantir]

It's difficult to say just how much of Ford's inner turmoil Sparrow picks up on. In any case, her response is sympathetic. She puts an arm around his shoulders in a a light side hug, and Ford can sense the way she carefully controls the strength of her grip, as though she were hugging an egg. "Don't worry, Ford, we'll crack this thing. We've made some progress, but I don't know if you get just how weird the linkage is from a technical standpoint. There are ways to smoothly integrate an organic consciousness into synthetic hardware, but Shayna's link isn't one of them. It's like walking through the forest and finding a diving apparatus complete with pressure suits growing on a tree. You'd think that would make it easier to differentiate the two components, but no, that would be too easy. I'd have an easier time dropping a wad of silly string in a bowl of glitter and separating that back out. I don't intend to abandon my efforts at reverse engineering the connection, but even with my hardware I doubt I could solve the problem that way in your lifetime, and I think both of you would rather not wait quite that long, virtues of patience or not. If we can get some useful data from this technician, we can come at it from the other end, hopefully with better results."

She gives him a light squeeze. "Probably not the best pep talk I've ever given. My point is, between your bond with Shayna, Itzy's knowledge of technorganic interfaces, and my raw intelligence and irresistible good looks, there's zero chance we don't figure this thing out. It may not be easy, but nothing worth doing is ever easy. Except people, sometimes."