MSNPC Alya - The Walls Speak
Tim
((OOC: I’m taking over for Alya so Sallie does not get swamped with a third scene. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed reading her Alya))
((Timeskip, Corridor, Velithari Ship Jorogumo))
Alya walked half a step ahead of the strangers. Her feet pressed soft impressions into the warm floor. The corridor around her breathed like all corridor’s aboard the ship did. She felt the slow exhale of warm, vapor-heavy air with every step. To her, finding her way was easy like someone had left breadcrumbs for her to follow. Each junction had its own scent. The long sweet thread of the brood-deck three turnings away to the left and the cool bitterness of the water vaults to their right were not distracting her from her target. She simply breathed. She simply knew.
The strangers, however, were different. Alya had noticed it from the moment the shuttle had hissed open in the bay. They smelled of cold metal and burnt salt. Each carried her own version of strangeness. The doctor carried the smell of small chemical complexities Alya had no name for. The other one was different. She smelled ready to strike. It felt familiar. All those smells made the small plates beneath her chest itch.
But Alya was in control. She was polite. One did not draw a blade for smell.
Torado: Everything looks the same as everything else, how do you know where to go?
Alya: ::soft click:: Same to your eyes, perhaps. Not ours. The ship marks her own paths. Each turning has its breath. ::she tipped her head:: A youngling learns the corridors before she leans to walk them. We do not lose ourselves in our own home.
Ohnari: Response
Alya observed Torado’s face and tried to learn her expressions. Sometimes it was useful. But faces could lie. Bodies less so.
Torado: Huh. On our ship, we use visible signage. Not everybody navigates by smell in our society.
Alya: Then your halls must be full with paint. We do not paint the walls. The walls speak for themselves.
Ohnari: Response
They came to the broadened compound archway where four corridors and two ceiling-shafts came together. Light was filtered through the hexagonal panes overhead allowing them to see just enough to comfortably navigate the tunnels. This was the threshold to the rest-cells. It was a line a youngling could not cross without permission. Alya could feel the attention of Jorogumo on her back. The Velithari was the security lead aboard, but the ship always felt like an attentive mother watching.
Torado: So… this is where you sleep?
Ohnari: Response
Alya: ::stopping at the center of the arch:: We rest here, yes. Sleep is not the word. We do not lose ourselves this way. We fold inward. The walls hold us. When we are needed, the walls wake us.
Torado/Ohnari: Response
She turned and let them in. The chamber opened before them. A great hall of small alcoves was revealed, each one sized for a single Velithari. Most were empty in this watch, especially since they had picked up the signal of the Khitomer. The few occupants were silent. The air was thicker and warmer than outside. Alya had not stood in a public rest-chamber for some time. Especially not with strangers. It felt wrong. She felt Jorogumo’s breath even more.
Alya: ::lower voice:: Do not touch the cells. The fibre will read you and the ship may not understand.
Torado/Ohnari: Response
The security chief watched them stand among the cells. She imagined that the marine’s scent had shifted again. It felt like she was taking in the data now. The wide field of view of her compound eyes followed the marine’s hands without pause. The medic’s scent in contrast was different. She was not the one Alya was worried about.
But Rana and Vidya had been clear before. This was about watching and listening and learning. She had kept an open mind in the shuttle bay. They needed to trust. She tried so now.
Alya: You may ask. I will answer what I am permitted.
Torado/Ohnari: Response
TAG/TBC
First Officer
USS Khitomer
A239901CD3