01.24.3014: Peace Or Annihilation
Summary: Ithaca brings Sarah news, and the Cantosan opens up. A little bit.
Date: 13 November 2013
Related: Various
Sarah Ithaca 


A Cell, a Watch House in Landing
Same old, same old.
January 24, 3014

Ithaca Black, by the grace of Lady Devon's machinations, has been granted another audience with the woman who carries the genes of her ancestor. She's dressed simple, in black leather pants, a t-shirt for the band "Hell If I Know", boots, and a jacket over it all. Her hair is still long and naturally colored as it was last time she visited, but there is a sort of glow about the woman this time around. She carries nothing with her save for a simple datacard that can be used in Sarah's datapad, and a set of earbud headphones for the same. She stops at the chair for guests. "Hi." Simple greeting.

"Hello," Sarah says in automatic reply as she continues to walk forward for another few steps. She glances slightly over her right shoulder, brilliant eyes catching the woman in her peripheral. She slows to a stop, allowing the treadmill to conveyor her down so she can step off the machine and onto the cool floors. Her cybernetic feet are bare, peeking out under the loose hems of her sweatpants. She steps forward toward Ithaca, though she doesn't immediately capture the opposing chair. "Ithaca," she says simply, offering a slight nod of her head.

"Sarah 113. They let me visit again. Not sure if they will in the future," Rook says. "Person who got me in before, not with him anymore." She grimaces a little bit. "Brought you a gift." She hands over the card and headphones. "Music. Thought you could use it on treadmill." On the card is every recording Rook could scrounge up by the Phylon orchestra, and as many from before the First System War as she could manage.

Sarah blinks a bit as she is just handed a datacard and headphones. She turns them both over and over again in her palms a moment before she offers a faint nod of her chin. There is a long, strange pause before "… Thank you." And once more, silence. She considers the headphones awkwardly now, touching the foamy buds. Something about being given something — a gift no less — has stumped the Cantosan. "Did you… have questions?" She asks, her flat tone slightly hesitant.

"No. No questions. Just news," Rook says, settling down into the chair heavily. She clasps her hands in front of her, leaning her forearms on her knees. "Sarah Owens line will continue. I'm pregnant. Almost 4 weeks now." She watches the Hostile carefully for her reaction to this information.

The Cantosan tilts her head slightly at the delivered news. Quite similar to the woman, she leans forward herself to prop her forearms against her thighs with the headphones and datacard pressed between her cybernetic palms. She lifts her luminous toward her after a thoughtful silence. "Why did you select to procreate?" Sarah asks in her flat, blunt alto.

Rook ponders the question for a long moment. Then she smiles faintly. "I shouldn't be the last. Sarah Owens was a good woman. A soldier, a mother, a wife, a student. I shouldn't be her final legacy. What is good of her should continue in new forms, adapting to the world around them." She tilts her head slightly. "In a way, this is your great grandchild." She sets a hand on her still flat stomach. "Size of a poppy seed at the moment, not impressive I know."

Sarah sits back in the wake of the woman's words. She stares across the gap between their two chairs, and there is a certain weight behind that gaze. "Potential," she says after a moment. "A continued legacy is just a continued hope of fulfilling a potential." The Cantosan drops her gaze to where Ithaca's hand rests — a gesture that is unfamiliar to the Soldier. "Cantosans do not carry their children," she says after a moment.

"How do they get made then?" Rook asks, looking genuinely perplexed. Most of the poorer citizens really can't afford to make kids in test tubes or get surrogates. "I am told that feeling a baby growing inside you is very special. I can't sense it yet, still too tiny. A few more weeks though, and I should be able to. Do you have children, Sarah 113?" she asks.

"I do not," Sarah says quietly. "Bringing a child to maturity would have kept me from returning to the Inner Worlds." There is another lapse of silence. "We are incapable in producing our own offspring. We select our offspring and they are developed outside of the womb… it is efficient."

"Sounds efficient, but impersonal too. Why can't you have babies? Did they purposely make you unable to? Your tech is so advanced, that seems like it was on purpose." Rook looks amused at herself for all the talk. "I guess I do have questions afterall," she murmurs, running a hand through her hair. "Why?" she asks. "Why do you want to take the Inner Worlds from us? Is something wrong on Cantos? Can't you just live with us peacefully? Why do people have to die?"

"Connection between parent and offspring does not require gestation to happen in the womb," Sarah says, a touch critically. Then she shakes her head. "Sterilization is an after effect of our procreation. It has been and will be. But, we have survived." Then the Soldier lapses once more into silence as she stares across at the woman who is her genetic descendant. "The Abandonment cost my people thousands of lives, and the cruelty of those days are still felt throughout Cantos. While those of the Inner Worlds continued to live in peace and comfort, my people were burying their dead. For there to be peace, a reparation must be made… and your people see no wrong done. At every turn we have been wronged… Abandoned, and then attacked… the third Cycle, we chose to attack first." She tilts her head. "Do you truly believe your Crown would give up these worlds for peace?"

"Don't understand, Sarah 113," Rook admits sincerely. "Don't know about Abandonment. Know people volunteered to live on Cantos, then Waygate failed. Then scouts were sent but never returned. Then Cantosans started attacking Haven in cycles. Can you explain better? I don't know the Crown. Can't speak for him. But I think something could be done to help, or repair, what damage was done."

"The Waygate did not fail," Sarah says flatly. "Our attempts to connect were refused. We sent 219,000 transmissions, none were answered. Our people Abandoned us… and we vowed to survive." Then she dips her chin a bit, opening her palm to examine the datachip and headphones. "When Cantos came back into range, ships bearing the Haven System crest entered the exosphere. They attacked. We defended, and we destroyed them. It was then that it was decided to take back our home. We were left for dead, but we would not stay in exile." She tilts her head a bit as she looks back up at Ithaca. "How would you repair that?"

"But all our histories say that the Waygate failed. Why would we refuse the transmissions?" Rook asks, wide-eyed in shock. "And why would they attack our own people? You were our people, Sarah 113. Why would we do such a thing?" She looks stunned. "I will find out the truth. You have my word as your genetic descendant," she vows. "But if I prove to you that no one alive today has any idea that things happened as you say, what then? Will you hold us to pay for the sins of people long dead who hid their lies very well?"

Sarah tilts her head a bit. "You are not the first to speak those words, Ithaca Black… there are those who have sat in that very chair who have claimed my history to be false… but I must inquire… who is more likely to falsify a history? Those who have been wronged, or those who did the wronging?" She straightens up a bit now.

"I know saying," Ithaca says, "the victors write the history books. Whatever happened, wasn't the Havenites alive today who abandoned or attacked Cantos. It has been kept from us. I have skills though. Can try to find answers. Find out who did it to Cantos' people, if it was done. Make it known if it was. Force nobles to acknowledge it, see if we can come to terms. Would that help? Just a citizen, but have friends who are important."

Sarah stares for a long moment at the Inner Worlder across from her. "I wish to return to my people, Ithaca," she says quietly. "I do not know if the truth now will wash away the blood that has been spilled over the last three cycles. I have grown tired of these walls, tired of that chair…" She looks down at it for a moment and then back up at Ithaca. "Tired of the silence…" Then she shakes her head a bit. "I'm not the one to answer these questions. It will fall to them to decide if acknowledging the truth will be enough." She flexes her jaw a bit. "It would… help me… if you knew the truth."

Rook nods. "If you ask for me, may let me come back. Nitrim won't be able to get me in anymore," she says softly, and there is pain in her eyes at even mentioning the nobleman's name. She looks down at her hands a long moment. "Would like to see you again, when baby can be felt," she explains. "You should know experience," she murmurs as she rises. "Enjoy the music, may help with silence," she says, as she heads out of the lockup.

Sarah is silent as the woman leaves. She waits until she has started down the corridor before she slowly stands from the chair and turns her back on the one Ithaca vacated. She stares ahead at the white wall that is the back of her cell, and her gaze slowly moves over it like an artist before a blank canvas.

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