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Tradeport <Comorro Station>
Built within one of the larger fissures of her digestive system, this common tradeport has rib-like structures with gray-green webs of matter stretched between them to protect Comorro's winding intestinal conduits from damage. Luminescent symbiotes, floating orbs of green and yellow, provide illumination for the cartilagenous nodes that serve as shops and merchant stalls.
The docking hub can be found at the starboard end of the bazaar, while a levimodule at the port end carries visitors to other levels of the Yaralu vessel.
Irisiniyion has perched himself atop what's left of one of the bazaar stalls. In his hand is something obviously alive, but rather small. He is gently stroking it, and as he does, what is unmistakably a soft 'mew' comes from it.
James Sterling comes out of the Red Eclipse office, his red-and-white power armour just finishing assembling itself around his head as he emerges. "Another day o' talkin' t'brick walls," he mutters to himself. He lifts his head toward Irisiniyon as the systems in his helmet identify the butterfly-like being. He observes him for a moment, reading the information provided to him by his HUD.
Irisiniyion tilts his head slightly as he observes the tiny kitten in his hand, but it isn't long before he notices James standing nearby looking at him. "Good day."
Sterling raises a hand, palm open, in greeting to the butterfly man. "G'day," he replies, his voice slightly distorted by his armour's vocaliser. "You got a pet there?" he asks, using his suit's sensors to identify the creature Iris is holding.
"Indeed. I have been exploring the large one and found a laboratory. One of the scientists within gave me this creature grown from a tree. A fascinating thing... I have not seen animals grown from plants before." Iris says, the end of his finger tickling the tiny kitten's belly.
A digitised chuckle escapes Sterling. "Yeah, that'd be Doc Hall," he tells Iris. "I saw that tree o'kittens the first time I was in that lab. Most people can't grow kittens from a tree." He pauses to lower the visor on his helmet, revealing a face that's rather more stubbly than is typical for him. "I been told you folks had somethin' t'help Comorro heal up," he says, "so's she won't have t'use so much energy just runnin' th' shields t'keep alla us from drownin'."
"It is a possibility. The scientist I spoke with had a rather odd accent... but he too inquired of it. The strands which our youth produce are strong, resilient, self-healing, and self-molding. It is possible, at least for the large one's most critical injuries, for us to provide a small quantity without harming the youth that are aboard my vessel." Irisiniyion says.
Sterling grunts in mild annoyance. "Yeh, that'd be ol' Fritz," he says. "He's great at collectin' information that he don't wanna tell anybody else. But we sure could use all th'help we c'n get. It's gettin' desperate around here." He tilts his head curiously. "What's the harm t'yer kids?" he asks.
"If they are forced to produce the strands too much, they will exhaust it. Without it, they can not undergo the transformation in our adult forms, as represented by myself." Irisiniyion explains. "That is the reason why the war is being fought. The 'True' Children, as they call themselves, enslave our youth, the younger the better, and force them to produce the strands until they have exhausted it."
Sterling's brow furrows. "That ain't right," he says quietly. "So what happens to 'em then? They just stay kids forever? Or do they, well, die earlier or somethin'?"
"They stay as youth forever. Unfortunately, for some the strain of facing it is too much... suicides among them are rather high." Irisiniyion says.
"Sounds like this stuff is pretty useful," Sterling comments. "An' if somethin's useful, it's valuable, an' if it's valuable, y'c'n be sure there'll be somebody willin' t'kill for it." He frowns, glancing aside for a moment. "Sad t'say. But you been fightin' the slavers, an' that's good. I mean, rather'n just rollin' over an' lettin' 'em do whatever they want. That ship Comorro crashed into -- that was full o' th'slavers, was it?"
"Indeed. In fact it was their flagship... with her unintentional intervention, the large one killed the commander of the Children fleet." Irisiniyion says. "I am sure that such an occurance will be a turning point as they scramble to recover from such a loss of leadership. I can say however that I will not mourn his loss. He was as ruthless as they come."
Sterling nods. "Probably th' reason he was the commander. Military leaders gotta be able t'focus on th' job at hand, no matter what the details. So mebbe Comorro's appearance'll be the best thing t'happen to ya." He smiles. "Mebbe you'll throw off the slavers once an' fer all." He shifts into a lazy parade rest stance and lowers his helmet. "So tell me about this silk stuff yer givin' us t'help Comorro," he says. "What d'you use it for? Buildin' material? Medical stuff?"
"It is the material with which our youth spin their cocoons when the time comes." Irisiniyion says. "It has such properties because it is to protect them as they undergo the transformation."
"Okay, but what do the slavers want it for?" Sterling clarifies. "On Earth there were worms that spun silk that was used in clothing and things like that."
"They use it for clothing and armor, for it is a good protective material that can mold to the wearer." Irisiniyion says. "Once they discovered that it had that property, they began the practice of herding us to collect it, despite the fact that it is needed by our youth and is a finite resource. We have been trying for decades to offer a synthetic alternative, but it is not as good as the true strands. This Fritz however has agreed to try to duplicate them. Perhaps with a different perspective and knowledge, it can be done. If an animal can be grown from a tree, then I have confidence they may succeed where others have failed."
"Yeah, I guess it'd make for some pretty nice armour." Sterling glances down at his own armoured body. "What I got on here is serious tech, at least for a twenty-first Century Earther. At home this kinda thing is pure fiction. Y'd think if they knew what it does t'yer people t'give so much of the stuff they'd take the alternative." He frowns. "But then some folks don't much care if somebody else suffers, long's they get what they want. Sad t'say we got a streak o' that kinda thing at 'ome too. But the strong survive, an' you been fightin' back, so yer still around. I reckon, though, that if anybody c'n make you up a better synthetic, it'll be Doc Hall. Not only does he grow kittens from trees, weird as that is, he c'n look right in yer genes and zap whatever junk is in there. He found a cancer marker in mine, but he gave me a treatment and -poof!- no cancer fer me. That shit'll kill ya, but slowly." He stands outside the Red Eclipse offices, looking up at Irisiniyion, who's perched on the remains of a kiosk.
Irisiniyion nods. "Yes. The fight will continue so long as there are those who have the moral superiority to recognize the injustices involved with the practice."
Xanya walks in from the docking hub stretching herself a bit and looks around. seeing The two at the kiosk she walks over to them. "hello there you two. How are things?" She asks.
"S'good," Sterling replies to Iris. "Sure'n y'll win out in the end." He glances over to Xanya as she enters. "Still conservin' energy," he tells her sourly. "Still bikin' up battery charges an' pumpin' water fer showers, dammit all."
Irisiniyion nods to Xanya. "Good day." he says. In his hand is a small kitten, its eyes not even open yet. Every so often he strokes the tiny kitten, eliciting happy mews from it. He looks back to James. "How is the large one fairing?"
Xanya sighs a bit. "no change he? have any idea's been given to remedie this situation?" She asks and then sees the kitten and gently moves a hand closer to stroke the kitte gently over it's head.
Sterling frowns. "The eggheads're pretty tight lipped over the true state o'things," he complains. "But we're tryin' t'use as little power as we can, so's Comorro c'n last just a bit longer before she needs t'snack on one of us." He inclines his head at Iris. "They're gonna give us some o'their silk stuff t'help seal up some o'Comorro's bigger holes," he tells Xanya.
Irisiniyion nods. "Yes. There is little to spare, but perhaps it will help to heal her most critical injuries."
"I hope it will help." Xanya says. "If not then I might be willing to offer an other solusion but for that I will need to consult with comorro herself when she is available."
"I better get t'work," Sterling says. His helmet forms itself around his head with a whirr and the visor rises to obscure his face, the blue optics glowing to life. "Watch yerselves," he advises them with his now-digitised voice.
Irisiniyion nods. "A good day to you."
Xanya nods. "good bey and good luck."
Sterling nods his helmeted head and plods off down the tradeport toward the levimodule.