Aetheas makes his way out into the dome, marveling, as he always does, at how beautifully realistic the representation of the homeworld seems. The hologram technology is impressive, and the ability to keep a partial-ecosystem thriving aboard a spacecraft, especially a combat spacecraft, is certainly not something that would come easily. And the dome is just one part of this huge, complex ship, every piece of which has been carefully designed by the greatest minds the Andalites have to offer. Altogether, it's a remarkably coherent, well thought-out vessel. It's not perfect, though, and he's sure he could do better, given time. But the engineers that designed this Mark III hadn't been complete morons, obviously.
He'd asked a couple of his fellow crew members before one had been able to tell him that he'd find Ossanlin in the dome. The Warrior who'd finally known had told him with a sneer. He's gotten used to that, of course. He knows that, to most of the remaining crew, he's known as either the vecol or the Aristh- he's not sure more than a handful even know his name. He'd walked off, smirking. Let them make fun of him now. He'll be one of this ship's officers before long.
Ossanlin seems pretty caught up with the rebels these days, but surely he'll be able to spare a quick word. Gazing out across the dome, he spots the Captain walking with one of them... Chris, he thinks, recognizing the face from his research on these rebels. And presumably Keslin 574 as well. He nearly calls out, then reminds himself that insubordination won't get him anywhere. As the pair approaches him, he elects instead to stand at attention... or as close as he can stand to "attention" with his deformed tail. He can wait for a moment of the Captain's time.
