Varit waits, his breathing growing shallower and shallower. His sensors are flickering in and out of usefulness, and he begins to wonder if he might be hallucinating the bugs that seem to crawl out of the deck and his flesh, but that have no flavor at all.
Aetheas steps purposefully from his quarters, moving quickly towards the dome. As he steps in, he cranes all four eyes upwards, drinking in the curvature, and the main Shredder beyond it, searching out details he's never noticed before. With a stalk eye, he skims a data pad that he now has in his hands.
<Hmph,> he says. <I guess it really is designed that way. That seems... inefficient.> Since he's been given access to many of the Tyrennian's classified files and logs, he's been frequently checking parts of the ship, or comparing what he sees to his notes, or studying past tactics and battles of the Mark III dome ships to verify that the craft really have the advertised performance.
<Unless...> he comments, his eyes now tracing the Shredder down, past the point where it's no longer visible. He turns and walks briskly towards the dome's exit, flipping through the data pad as he goes. He pays no notice to the Warrior and the rebel engaged in conversation as he walks by.
<Aha,> he says, stopping in his tracks. The Shredder was designed to draw slightly more power and coolant than necessary directly from the main line, and though he can't find anything
explicitly stating the reason, he's beginning to suspect, thanks to the circulation route it takes, that it's used to both allow the Shredder to overcharge itself if necessary, and to add stability and rigidity to the tail-like structure via slight magnetic and centripetal forces. Some of the ship's systems have this mark-- this almost elegant artistry-- taking into account variables he would never have thought of. Though he knows the ship had been designed by a dedicated team of engineers, he imagines a single master designer, and he imagines himself getting to know this mysterious, brilliant Andalite better the more he knows the ship. He often finds himself holding conversations in his head with this imaginary engineer, gushing endlessly or asking questions for which the imagined Andalite could only give him the answers Aetheas himself already knows or suspects. It isn't terribly productive, he supposes, but it does help him to shift his own perspective of the
why behind many of the Tyrennian's design decisions.
He calls up the ship's current log and mechanical stress schematics. The Tyrennian is indeed accelerating, and he watches with fascination as the tail-like Shredder resists the flexing effects of the motion
slightly more than they would given material strength alone. Or... so he supposes. He'd have to run simulations later to be sure there was any effect at all.
Finally, his eyes catch sight of Nefitt, and... and... and an Andalite he doesn't recognize. There aren't supposed to be other male Andalites in the Rebellion, and they certainly hadn't docked or he'd have been informed. Wouldn't he? So here, in the middle of space, where could this newcomer have come from?
A quick glance around reveals that the newcomer is, in fact, being watched. Interesting. A stowaway would be in the brig, but this... this must be... what then? His mind, still preoccupied by the days and days of endless study, seems to be moving very slowly with regard to everything else...
