Of Chats and Coffee
When the Sinful strike back
Timeline: (Backpost) After the Dalacari arbitration
Ziyal was frustrated about the outcome of the last mission. Even though her analysis told her it was the 'right' decision. It didn't feel like it. Cor had always been a source of wisdom for her, and someone she could talk to. She took a breath and rang the chime to let him know she was there.
Cordale had received a copy of the technical schematics for the Thinking Engine, and was currently reviewing them for what felt like the thirteenth time since he got them. They were rather complete, and rather complex, but he was starting to make...
Oh, the announcer chime. He smirked, and turned his attention to the doorway, "C'min!" he granted, his glance towards the doorway fighting the urge to pour back into the schematics.
Ziyal came in, and noticed the thinking engine schematics. "Did I interrupt something?" She asked.
He gave a smile, and shook his head, "Not at all. I could probably go over these for days and be right where I am now." he motioned to the designs, "It's a copy of the technical schematics for the basic Thinking Engine. The Dalacari gave them to the captain as part of a ... I dunno... payment for services rendered deal I guess. Anyway, they can wait. What can I do for you?"
Ziyal flopped into a chair, "Just frustrated with how the mission went, and I need someone to talk to. We made the 'right' decision, again. However, I can't help but be unhappy about it."
Cordale motioned to the chair she flopped in a few seconds after she flopped. "Take a seat, let's chat." he made his way over to the side desk, where sat the famed percolator of Engineering. "Coffee? Actual coffee, mind you." he poured himself a mug. "I have to admit, part of me was hoping it was some new emerged AI, but then who knows where that'd put those two races. It sounded to me like they really didn't have any idea what to do if we said 'yeah, it is'."
He took a swig, "Speak freely. I know, I know, I hate saying it to a friend, but we gotta be careful."
"Sorry," Ziyal said apologetically. "I would like some coffee, if you don't mind." She paused briefly to gather her thoughts. "If we are speaking freely, I'm a priestess." There was another silence as she tried to put what she was feeling into words. "There is another dimension to our lives, a spiritual dimension that not everyone is sensitive to. I've spent a lot of time in my life attuning myself to that dimension. And I felt something, not a full something, but a half formed something. Something I should have protected."
Cordale poured Ziyal a mug of coffee, and let her customize it with cream, sugar, or what have you. The Thux preferred cinnamon in his coffee. It didn't dissolve like sugar did, but it added that marvelous punch.
"You're talking about souls? Spirits and spiritual essences?" Cordale asked, as a clarification.
Ziyal nodded, "Yes, although I have different words for them and they fit a bit differently into the overall structure. They are close enough. Even if something is not at our level, that's not the same thing as not having a soul. Not having a piece of Oralius inside them."
Cordale listened, and took a swig of his coffee. If it was one thing that truly fascinated him, it was the myriad concepts of religion. "And you got a feeling off of the Engine?" he asked directly, but in no way did he sound impatient. Quite the contrary, this was amazingly interesting. "A half-feeling? A kinda-feeling? That's actually rather interesting. I mean, was it something in the nebula that hitched a ride... or did they really get close to making something aware?"
Ziyal shrugged, "I don't know. I suspect it was off of the engine it's self, not something that hitchhiked. And 'Hello sir, I'm a priestess who's got a unquantifiable feeling about this thing' is not generally an acceptable reason for stuff."
Ziyal winced to herself, "Forget what I said about the priestess thing, I'm not supposed to talk about that."
He motioned with his mug, "Now that I can't rightly do. Knowledge is forever BUT what I can do is give you my word, the word of a Thux. No one will ever hear it from me." he said with a nod. A weighty nod.
"Now, as far as everything else, I can't rightly say how I feel about it, but to hear that there was a feeling off of it, now that is interesting. All I can say is I may be requisitioning a Thinking Engine, standard design, in the next few weeks or so." he said on the sly. "And we'll see how the standard model fares. I'm willing to say nowhere near the .. shall we say Culprit Model, but still it's a fascinating design." he took a swig.
"I'm not thrilled with the outcome, but ultimately I'm just pleased that no one got hurt and that the peace was kept. What lay beneath, is not for Thux to say."
Ziyal nodded quietly, "I just get the feeling it's a peace made on bones." She shook her head and was quiet for a moment. "The peace was kept and that's enough for now. I'm sure a standard model would be fascinating to look at. Although I get the feeling that their not exactly the easiest things to get a hold of. I wonder what would happen if we fed it the info we have on the Jennari." Ziyal mused for a moment.
"If it were up to me, I'd have given them a copy of everything we got on them. If we're approaching war, the Dalacari and the Ts'usugi in this sector could very well be involved. I'll talk to the Captain about maybe letting them in on it." he motioned to her with his mug. "Good thinking."
Ziyal nodded, "I wouldn't count on them for much help, perhaps passively looking at data, but nothing active. If the Federation is really pushed by the war, them being so far away makes it easy for them to just go 'nope, we're not a part of that'. Not that it would stop me from asking."
"True, it's not their fight." he mused, "And they're not at all fighters. Observers and such, yes. Fighters, I wouldn't put them through that." he took another swig of his coffee before realizing he had run out a swig ago. "It's never easy. Though, if you told me all those years ago how rough it would be, putting on the uniform and all that..." he paused, "... I'd be right where I am today still. I owe it to them." he put his mug down and idly rubbed the engravings on his prosthetic forearm. "Say a prayer for us, I won't tell a soul anything of what you don't want me to."
"Thanks, I will." Ziyal's PADD vibrated, "Semper Occupatus." She said standing, "Thanks for the talk."