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After their work day had finished, Ellia and Dorrin retired to their shared cabin. Normally he'd have spent the evening snuggling with his girlfriend, but there were other things on Dorrin's mind - of the sort he didn't want to discuss in front of others in the crew, or Marla, at least for the moment. Once inside, he engaged the privacy switch to ensure she wasn't spying on the two of them.

"Ellia," he asked with a sigh, shaking his head, "are most Ragerians like Marla was and Denal still is?"

"I figured this was coming," she sighed deeply, slumping onto the bunk, "and assuming you're meaning the arrogant attitude regarding other species, I'm afraid that's true of just about everyone over 250 years old... and some of us who are younger. Void, I was kinda like that once; also, I'd hardly say Marla has been cured of that ailment."

"That's a story you'll have to tell me at some point," he chuckled, taking the transmitter Denal had given him out and sitting it on a fold-out table. "Still... I think I truly understand what Denal meant when he said to be sure the Tigrin really wanted Ragerian help, and I'm not that we will. Is there truly no other way? Maybe one of your allies, like the Yotan?"

"The Yotan are only getting an ideal homeworld because they accepted Ragerian help with the terraforming process," she sighed, shaking her head, "and the only other official 'allies' I have are a few Gnoll tribes who are... basically Ragerian clients at this point."

"Wait, you got them to put up with Denal's attitude?" Having met several Gnolls, including one Matriarch, Dorrin found this extremely hard to believe, even though he was certain Ellia was not lying.

"It turns out saving the life of and becoming good friends with a Matriarch has a lot of benefits." She shrugged with a sigh, lowering her ears. "And on that note, there's something you should probably know, since you're serious about being with me. You're not my only mate, Dorrin."

"I'm Tigrin," he chuckled, "it doesn't bother me, we've been over this. Maybe I'll meet the other or others one day, maybe we'll get along, maybe not..."

"That's just it, you have met Gerra, and... well, I didn't say anything at the time, since you were clearly venting and didn't find the encounter pleasant, but... we have... something. She isn't sure what she wants to call it, but I know how I feel."

Fucking rootrot downpour, she loves _ that _ lunatic??? "I..." he considered his words carefully as she put her hands on her hips, clearly sensing his emotions, and he was sooo glad they hadn't been in contact that would have let her hear that thought. "She uh... really doesn't seem... I don't know... like someone I'd have expected you to be interested in?"

"That's because you don't really know her, or probably any Gnolls for that matter. They are both the easiest and hardest people to get to know, at least from my experience. Easiest in that they will tell you exactly what they think of you or what you're doing and not hold back - it's actually kinda refreshing to meet another species where their emotional state generally matches what they say and do... but, at the same time, they're very afraid of connecting with others, and for good reason. Also, don't get me started on how centuries of being wanted dead just for being born to that species has screwed with their culture..." She was practically fuming at that point, and Dorrin couldn't help but wonder just what she had experienced to make her so protective towards what was considered a crude and savage species. "I'm sorry, I guess this should be a conversation for another time. Back to your original question... no, I'm afraid my people are the only ones who can help Tigra. The reason I mentioned Gerra is she also had a very difficult time letting my people help hers. It uh, actually wasn't just me who convinced her."

"After she drunkenly threatened to kidnap me and make me one of her personal chefs, among other things... I have no plans of being in a room with her alone. Maybe when things settle down we can all talk on that..." He flopped on the bed next to Ellia, vaguely gesturing to the transmitter. "And on that note, I have no idea how to use that thing."

"Fair enough," she cooed, stroking his ears with one hand and picking up the transmitter with the other.. "at least you're out of that funk your mother's delayed message put you in... wait a second, by the Order, guess who this connects to?"

"If it's Denal himself I'm going to be very cross..." Dorrin muttered, knowing decidedly few Ragerians and expecting most of the ones Marla knew were no longer alive.

"No, unless there's another Vincent Jorlen in Unity, who also happens to have that kind of specialty, this is probably Marla's father."

"How is that possible?" Dorrin asked, once he could move his hanging maw once more. "He'd be what, 500 years old?"

"I think so, and the average Ragerian lifespan is 500-600 years old, so it is possible... but he'd be a very old man. If it is him though that would make sense - our brightest minds tend to also be our oldest."

"We should tell Marla," Dorrin said, standing and disabling privacy mode, "Marla, we've discovered something that may be of interest to you."

---

Bright orange sunlight shone through the window and onto Vincent Jorlen's eyes, causing him to stir in bed and flick his ears before stretching. In spite of his advanced age, his body was overall fairly healthy and he performed a few stretches as he got out of bed, put on some undergarments and went to get some coffee. Outside his kitchen window his own small garden was growing more coffee berries, which brought a smile to his face as he saw they were ripening nicely, before he went to grind some freshly roasted beans. As he waited for the electric grinder to finish he turned to one of the ubiquitous reflective panels common in Ragerian dwellings and began to brush the slightly sagging gray fur from his face and eyes. Stretched skin from aging was, sadly, one of the few things the AIS could only do so much to correct, and he wasn't sure he particularly liked the "sleepy" appearance it gave him; after all, even tho he was "mostly retired" his knowledge and experience meant he frequently got consulted for project advice, and taught a few advanced courses for graduate level students - he was anything but sleepy!

The panel suddenly beeped, showing a call coming in on a quantum pair unit. Denal did say someone would be contacting me soon about a situation that needs my expertise... he thought, scratching the white beard-like tuft of fur under his muzzle, before activating the connection. The mirror was replaced with an image of a male tiger-like alien he didn't recognize, next to a young female Ragerian he felt he'd seen somewhere but could not immediately place. "Good morning," Vincent began, continuing to prepare his coffee, "I do apologize if I seem distracted, I only just woke up. How can I be of assistance?"

"Dad? Is... is that really you?" A familiar voice asked from off the camera, one he could not believe he was hearing.

"Marla???" Vincent asked nearly incredulously, nearly spilling the boiling water he was pouring for coffee. "Youngsters, if this is a joke it is in very poor taste!"

A hologram appeared behind them and he gasped, recognizing his long lost daughter immediately. She had an imprint made? I suppose that was the required protocol... he thought before replying again. "Marla... I had thought I would never see you again."

"Father, I'm... I'm glad you're still alive. I'm sorry that I-!"

"The past is the past," Vincent remarked with a shrug, turning away and covering his face behind a cabinet door he opened to get a coffee cup from, _there's no point dwelling on that which we cannot change, I... would rather not think about all the lives she needlessly ended._Vincent shuddered and held a hand over his maw to stifle a whimper, and wipe away the beginnings of tears before be actually fetched his cup and closed the cabinet, "now then, I expect the purpose of this call is not merely that of a family reunion. You must be, wait, don't tell me..." he paused, searching his memory for the cream colored Ragerian, "Ambassador Ellia Longtail, am I correct?"

Ellia blinked and nodded, her ears lifting in surprise. "You know who I am? I had always expected my work was barely being noticed," her ears rotated back and her eyes rolled as she continued, "aside from my adoptive father trying to get in the way all the time."

"Young lady," Vincent chuckled softly, "your father is actually quite proud of you, though he is mildly concerned with many actions he sees as reckless. Still, I know he would not have given out direct quantum comms to me without a specific and urgent need." He then turned to Dorrin, figuring this call had to largely involve this unknown alien. "And you are, young man?"

"Uh I'm Dorrin, and uh... ow!" the tiger muttered until Ellia elbowed him slightly, "look, this probably sounds dumb or cliche but my planet is dying and I need your help?"

Well, that would explain why Denal gave them my info, Vincent thought as he blinked and flicked his ears, must be really bad if he thinks I should intervene.

"Uh... well?" Asked Dorrin, looking nervous.

"I was merely pondering what you meant by 'dying', Mr Dorrin," Vincent replied, sipping his coffee, "there are many things that can cause an ecological collapse... assuming that is indeed what you are getting at."

"Urgh," groaned Marla, "I think I should explain... better yet, I'll send you the data we have on this." At that data and briefs from various studies appeared. Vincent quickly absorbed this data, even though it must have seems to take a while for Dorrin, who seemed to be tapping his paw.

"... The Vulpin did this???" Vincent finally growled as he waved off the holographic displays, and slammed a fist on a counter-top.

"Oh yes," Marla answered with a sigh, shaking her head, "they were the last major power to have control over Tigra, and the Leonin before them seemed to mostly just neglect the place."

"Can you... actually fix this?" Dorrin asked, with more than a hint of doubt in his voice.

"It will not be easy... however, we have made much more drastic ecological corrections before. Yes, we can do it. The question is... are your people willing to accept what must be done?"

---

Marla couldn't believe it, her father was alive but he seemed to be almost completely indifferent to her. I suppose this was to be expected in this case, she thought, though in her case as an imprint thinking was more akin to processing new data and storing the conclusions in a peripheral memory space, as a family, we've never particularly liked imprints, and have always felt that they're more of an echo than a real person. I must admit being a quantum encoded matrix in what is more or less a firmware enclosure is very different, but... I don't _ feel _ _like an echo._It was also, admittedly, somewhat beneficial to be able to process so many data-streams directly and with ease, even if it took getting used to and could go from exhilarating and liberating to exhausting or even overwhelming in an instant. It was taking only a fraction of the ship's spare processing power to follow and interact with the conversation as it occurred, now that she had real hardware to work with.

After what felt like an both an incredibly short and agonizingly long time the discussion ended, with the agreement that until Tigra's government allowed anything to happen any planning was academic in nature, and Ellia had disconnected the call, both her and Dorrin wanting to end their day in their usual manner. Vincent, however, had not disconnected, but instead shifted to a private channel direct to Marla's memory space.

"Marla," he spoke after waiting several moments to confirm no one else was on the call, "what in the Order's Grace were you thinking?"

"That depends father," she began cautiously, directing a projection of herself to appear in her Vincent's kitchen, "which of many events or chains of events are you referring to?"

"I'm talking about how after the Digger's Star incident you just dropped everything without even saying goodbye to us and vanished." He growled, barely even looking at her projection as he poured himself more coffee and slammed the glass pitcher it came from down on the counter, just short of cracking and breaking it.

"Would you have talked to me then?" She asked, her ears lowered and tail between her legs. "A failed defender of people and knowledge? A known mass murderer?"

Vincent looked away, sighing deeply, then setting down the coffee he just poured with a shaking hand, before turning back to her, tears filling his eyes. "Void dammit, Marla, I don't know anymore! I just know you could never have plotted to destroy a whole colony as the Lupin claimed." He reached over to hug her, phasing through her awkwardly before he realized she had no physical presence to speak of.

"I didn't intend it, father," she answered, once again wishing she hadn't been such a complete fool and thrown away her physical body in a futile gesture ages ago, "but I wa** s responsible for what happened. I'm the one who ordered the gravity mines deployed, that makes me** responsible... I'm honesty surprised the Lupin no longer hold a grudge over it, and don't want what's left of me destroyed."

"That's largely what I'm afraid of," he sighed taking a seat at a nearby counter stool to sip his beverage, "history may not strictly repeat itself, but it does tend to rhyme. Marla, you have to assure me that this will not in any way resemble what happened at Otteria, and especially not the events that followed... the rudderbutts got extremely lucky, and I'm not going to be around for a do-over if this blows up again."

"I know, and I'm doing my best to..." she paused suddenly, realizing the implication of his last remark, "what do you mean you won't be around?"

"I mean I was recently given notice-" he supped his coffee, lowering his own ears again, "notice from my doctor that I have 50 years before my body is no longer capable of functioning. This will be my last project, but I want my work to be meaningful, and to more than just Ragerians who know the full story."

"I..." her mouth hung open as her hologram froze, her processing desperately searching for adequate words... adequate feelings for that matter, "I just found you again... only 50 years? I know that's a lot to most species but... especially to me? That's barely anything!"

"I'd joke that you can take that complaint up to the Order when you meet it," he chuckled, smiling slightly, "but well... you already have." He then frowned, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to point out..."

"No dad," she sighed, then chuckled herself, "I know how you meant it, and I'm sure the original me is already filing complaints in triplicate and not giving the it a moment of respite over this. I also doubt anything shall change because of it."

"Well, like it said," Vincent smiled brightly once again. "'you are the miracles', and that's something I intend to make true."