6944/Twenty (Thousand) Questions

Twenty (Thousand) Questions
Date of Scene:	18 March 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Saint Walker and Kinsey talk, both have many questions but Saint Walker has an offer that Kinsey can't refuse.
Cast of Characters:	Saint Walker, Kinsey MacKenna

---

Saint Walker has posed:
Since the incident on McKenzie King Station, Walker had remained to help with the clean up, using the powers of his ring to heal those who had been injured and doing whatever else the humans who ran the station needed.

When all was done and his ring begun to warn him of it's delpetion as well as his own, Walker took a break, finding his way to the mess hall. A brief chat with one of the people behind the counter saw his tray filled with Earth 'must trys' and he wandered to a table wishing the man all the best and reminding him, yes, he was working in a cafeteria but he was woking in a cafeteria /in space/ and a vital part of keeping all the station's personnel happy and fed.

Drawing out a chair he sits, tiredly, and despite the looks of the other diners, or perhaps because of them, he summons his Lantern. "In fearful day, in raging night, With strong hearts full, our souls ignite. When all seems lost without the light, look to the stars, for hope burns bright!" he intones his ring translating his words into English, and whatever other languages that are understood by those around him.

A Blue Lantern materializes before him, a beam of blue light passing from it to Walker's ring.

"Power level at 50" It reports cheerfully while Walker takes a momemnt to meditate on the nature of hope as his ring is recharged by its essence.

"75"

The beam stops, "100" the ring reports.

Walker's eyes open and he bows his head lightly to his lantern, "Thank you," he says as it vanishes again. Then seeming not to notice the people staring at him he tucks into a slice of pizza. "Mmm, John Roberts was right this /is/ quite enjoyable." John being the man behind the dinner counter.

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
Kinsey MacKenna had not evacuated with the others when things had stabilized on the station. She'd stayed behind to help with cleanup of the Science Labs. While most of the experiments were trash, not all the equipment was, and someone needed to direct crews as to what could stay, and what had to go.

She'd spent long hours in a biohazard suit, picking her way through the mess of the labs, while the bulkhead was being repaired.

It wasn't all bad, though. It gave her ample opportunity, viewing the stripped down spaces, or what would be stripped down spaces, visualizing what the area could look like with the rebuild. It had been a decent lab already, but since it needed the repairs anyway, an update to state of the art equipment was in order, not to mention, the space could be retooled and tailored to an expanded line of experiments.

Despite the attack, and the implications of it, Kinsey was looking upon the matter from the bright side, and while not precisely 'cheerful' about the matter, was looking forward to what this could mean for the station.

As she's already observed to herself, it was a once in a lifetime chance - and it was hers.

She was smiling tiredly as she tells John to slap whatever was hot onto a plate and she'd eat it. He jokes he doesn't have a plate large enough to fit him, even as he piles a generous portion of lasagna onto a plate and hands it over to the woman.

"Fresh pot of coffee on, Kinsey. Looks like you could use it."

"And what will everyone else drink if I take it?" she teases back, letting his moments earlier jest inform her own. "Thanks. I certainly do need it."

Tray in hand, she looks about for a space to sit, and spies Saint Walker.

Heading over to his table, she invites herself to sit.

"Brother Walker," she greets him, amused with herself for turning his own phrasing upon him, finding his mannerisms both quaint and pleasing. "I'd thought you'd have left by now. Has everyone been treating you well?" She smiles over at him. "I hope you don't mind my joining you?"

She hasn't, as it happens, heard his little Hope litany, having been joking with John while that was happening.

Saint Walker has posed:
Walker looks up from his meal and smiles brightly. "Sister Kinsey," he says setting down his slice of pizza and rising. "Yes, everyone here has been wonderful. They are all fine examples of your people."

When she asks if he minds if she sits he shakes his head. "Not at all. I was rather hoping we would have a chance to speak."

When she sits so does he, "How has the clean up of the labs been? My work has mostly kept me in medical."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"You were hoping, were you?" Kinsey's brown eyes sparkle. "Though I suppose I may be one of the few people on the station you actually know. For some value of know."

Her fork digs into her lasagna before she answers him about the science labs.

"Fairly well, actually. As I expected, most of the experiments were lost. We do have the data already created, but some will have to be started from scratch again." She gives a little shrug. "Not much can be done for that. So, onwards and upwards, I suppose. I am surprised by the equipment that survived, though Lab 6 is quite the writeoff."

She looks over at his plate. "And what are enjoying.. Actually, I'm not sure what time it is. Let's go with evening. What are we enjoying this evening?" Her smile encompasses the two of them congenially.

Saint Walker has posed:
"Not true, I have made many friends since coming here, but, I did want to speak to you most especially," he says with a cheerful sort of seriousness.

He eyes the lasagna, not having been added to his tasting menu provided by John. By the smell alone this seemed like an oversight. "May I try some of that?" he asks her pointing with his fork.

"It is good the equipment and most importantly the data survived. Though it is a shame about the lab, though fortunately no one was killed in its destruction, even the one responsible."

"I find that planetary modes of time keeping tend to loose relevance in space, but yes, let us call this evening, Kinsey McKenna., I am enjoying," he surveys his plate trying to recall the names. "Pizza, shushi...is that right? And a...poutine?" Quite the combo. All washed down with soda pop. "I spent some time with some of your holy men in the place called China, their dietary choices were limited."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"What you're enjoying," Kinsey informs, looking at his meal, "is a hot mess. And yes, help yourself to the lasagna. I'm not especially afraid of boy cooties."

Her smile remains as she pushes her tray forward to let him help himself. "I'm glad to hear that people are making you feel at home, and that you're making friends. As for time, it may mean little up here in terms of relativity, but we humans are rather tied to our circadian rhythms. It helps us regulate when we have an approximate idea of the solar day-night cycle as it refers to earth. The station does try to keep to that, its lighting and such adjusted to reflect a normal pattern. Though, I've been holed up in the labs, and I'm not actually sure if they've got that system back on line."

When he says he's been wanting to talk to her especially, he earns himself a questioning look. "Oh? And why were you hoping to speak to me in particular - unless it was about the matter of Willard? I have to say, that was all rather unexpected and somewhat shocking. I would never have pegged him for an alien. He seemed so normal, though I guess that was the point, wasn't it?"

Saint Walker has posed:
"A hot mess?" Walker asks as he takes a bite of the lasgana. "This is good. And what are cooties?"

"Ah yes, there is the biological side of things, my people are effected similarly, though our day is longer. However I travel frequently so I am in a constant state of," he searches for the term. "Jet lag, I believe is what Green Lantern called it."

As for the station's lighting he glances around. The lights seem to still be still at full brightness. "It seems the system is still being repaired, but I trust your people will resolve things shortly. They've shown to be quite good at what they do."

He takes a bite of the sushi, swallowing it down before continuing. "Just as you aquitted yourself well in the crisis, when things seemed darkest, you stayed calm and put others before yourself, that is impressive. Tell me, Kinsey McKenna, how did you come to be here?"

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"Germs," Kinsey laughs. "I don't know why they started getting called cooties, but generations of young boys and girls have taunted one another with the prospect of getting boy or girl cooties. Usually it's coupled with kissing, Grade school stuff." Anticipating his next question, she supplies, "Grade school covers up to the pre-teen years."

As for his plate of food.. "Lasagna is very good. Most pasta dishes are. Something about cheese and the carbs." She points out each of the things on his tray. "They're all good, but we don't usually eat them all at the same sitting. Humans tend to compartmentalize their foodstuffs. A hot mess means - well, in this case it means a very unlikely combination, but more power to you."

Kinsey eats her lasagna, having pulled it back, while he asks about how she came to be 'here'.

"Mmm, now see, when a mommy and a daddy love one another very much, they come together in a special way, and then usually about 40 weeks later, a baby is born." Her laughter is a pleasing alto. "Of course you mean here on the Mackenzie King Station. That, well, that's not as complicated a story as you might think. The station has opened up to a larger international team in the past year, due to an alien invasion - Darkseid - and the position opened up just when I was looking for a job. I took a chance, hoping my pedigree would at least get me a second look."

Her fork is put down, and she reaches for her coffee - a beverage she drinks strong and black. "As for my staying calm and the rest of that, it sounds a lot more impressive than it is. Losing your head in a crisis only puts yourself and others in danger." She doesn't touch the matter of putting others ahead of herself.

Saint Walker has posed:
"Ah," Walker says when cooties are explained. "Children had similar beliefs on my world, it must be something to do with being that age," he gives a slight shrug of his shoulders at that.

"Mmm, yes it is very good, but I do see what you mean about the combination however, I suspect the sushi would be better without sharing my mouth with the taste of lasagna. Hmm, still I cannot fault John for his enthusiasm to share your world's cuisine.

There is a puzzled look for a moment before Walker smiles, "Ah yes, I see how my question could be taken to mean here in the grander sense," he says with a laugh. "But you surmised correctly I meant the station." There a concerned hmmm, for the mention of Darkseid. "I wish I could have been here to help your world. He is a very disturbed individual, and unfortunately one who is extremely powerful, I am glad your people were able to prevail against him, and that it led to your chance to live among the stars."

He nods, to the rest of what she says. "Very true, loisng your head is hardly condusive to a swift and beneficial resolution to the problem at hand," he says before adding. "My ring translated the idiom if you're concerned you meant /actually/ losing your head. Though that would also be a hinderance to successfully resolving a crisis." There is a smile for the joke before he asks:

"Do you know what I am?"

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"John is good people," Kinsey affirms. "Most of the folks here on the station are very good people. I haven't met everyone, so I can't speak for the entire lot. I suppose it's much like anywhere else, a few bad eggs in with the good. But overalll, we're a decent sort here. I'm glad you've been finding your time well spent."

She confirms that he would enjoy sushi much better if his mouth wasn't filled with the taste of lasagna. "You need a palate cleanser," she tells him. "Something to clean the taste of one food from your mouth before you try another. You likely should have tried the sushi before the lasagna."

The rich alto of her laugh returns as she apologizes. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to tease you. It's just that often when people ask that on my world - earth - that's a way someone might jokingly answer. I'm afraid I defaulted for you. And, yes, I did surmise you meant here on the station. No hard feelings, I hope."

Again, shelaughs when the the thought of *actually* losing one's head comes up. "No, no. We've pretty much stopped beheading people for their mistakes. Another way you might hear it if you stick around long enough is running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It describes the chaos that can happen in a crisis when people lose their calm. It looks like a lot of action, but nothing gets accomplished, and often people get hurt."

She looks curious. "This ring of yours, I'm afraid I know nothing of them. Your friend, the Green Lantern, he had one as well. It translates for you?"

She has to admit to him, "And no I don't know what you are. An alien, obviously. A rather powerful one. Beyond that, no, I'm afraid I don't know the specifics. I'd be happy to learn, though."

Saint Walker has posed:
"He is," Walker agrees. "And a very important member of this station's crew, despite what he might think about his role here." he says. "Especially in space, everyone is important, it is unity that helps you survive, everyone doing their part. And yes, I have quite enjoyed this visit and meeting the people you work with, you must be very proud."

"Ah, yes, I see the wisdom there, sushi before lasgana, lighter taste before the heavy, what would your recommend, Kinsey McKenna, as a palate clenser?"

"It is quite alright, it was a very funny joke," he observes lightly. "I would hardly hold a grudge for a joke that was not hurtfully meant." Though by his tone it sounds like he wouldn't be offended by a hurtful one, likely just disapointed, a disapointment coupled with a frown that says: 'you're not the person Mr. Rogers thought you could be.' Well, if Walker knew who Mr. Rogers was anyhow.

"A regrettable situation for both the people in the crisis and the chicken I suspect," Walker observes of the new idiom.

At the mention of his ring he looks at his hand where the loop of crystaline blue sits glowing dimly on his pale finger. "Yes, this is a Blue Lantern Ring, and I am a Blue Lantern, the newest of serveral Lantern Corps, one of which is the Green Lanterns which my friend is apart of, and the Razer belongs to the red. Each of us have a role to play, some more pleasant than others. Blue Lanterns, serve the blue light of hope it is our role to spread hope throughout the universe, and when there's need assist the Green Lanterns. They serve the green light of will, and what good is will without hope to guide it? And what good is hope if you lack the will to make it a reality? As you might imagine we get on quite well."

There is a smile at that.

"And no, I assure you I am not powerful, I am an Astorian, a race of people not much different than humankind besides the obvious cosmentic ones," he says. "My power comes from being a vessel of the Blue Light of Hope, a power I channel through my ring."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"Oh, most definitely an important person. I think the cafeteria crew know how well thought of they are, though it never hurts to let them know. I'll be certain to pass on your compliments to him. There's an idiom on earth that an army marches on its stomach. Mostly it means that you can have the most powerful army, but without sustenance, they won't survive." Kinsey grins at him. "Of course it also means much the same as you say as well, that we're all important. Everyone has their part to play."

She listens to him, calmly eating her lasagna as she does so. "Well, tradiationally things such as sorbet are used. Or cracker. Sorbet is a fruit-icewater concoction that tastes wonderful, but leaves your mouth fresh in its wake so that you don't carry over bits of the course before when you eat the next. Much the same with crackers - though they're little carbohydrate wafers."

A small, thoughtful nod follows along with the rest of his tale. "Ah. Though your friend Razer did not seem to be employing his ring? At least I didn't see him use it." Then again, it had been a little chaotic at the time, and she was trying not to be sucked out the side of the space station.

"You're a Blue Lantern," Kinsey repeats, settling the fact into memory. "You've been such an awfully good help. I suppose that explains it, though, your helping."

The rest is listened to and considered, "Interesting. So you hold one another up, and help each other, and by doing so make each other more powerful. Just by virtue of your rings? Though, now you've mentioned three colours. Green is willpower, yes?"

She doesn't wait for confirmation.

"Blue is Hope." Because he's just told her as much, more than once. "I'm not sure what Red would be, but if I had to guess by your friend's surly nature, or the usual connotations for humanity, I'd say something connected with anger or war." Kinsey goes on to explain, "Red is traditionally associated with Mars, who is associated with War. He's generally portrayed as a rather formidable and unforgiving sort."

She reaches for her coffee and cups the mug between her hands as he speaks of being a vessel for the Blue Light of Hope. "I can see that," she tells him thoughtfully. "You seem rather grounded in a way that speaks of calm and hopeful things. So, tell me, how was it that you became this vessel? That must be some story."

Saint Walker has posed:
"Ah, yes, my people had a similar saying, which suggests it is one of those universal truths, you'll find most planets have sayings about those," Walker observes. "And please do relay to John my compliments. He most certainly deserves them.

Lifting his head on his long thin neck, Walker peers at the selection of cafeteria foods and spying little wafters he with summons two packets to him sending them floating across the room in a nimbus of blue light. "Are these what you mean?" he asks when the crackers arrive. Thankfully it's a free cateria part in parcel of living on the station.

"It is our purpose to offer assitance and hope wherever we can," Walker agrees of the Blue Lanterns. "And I have been glad to be able to provide it here, especially when the cause of the damage has come from the stars."

"That is correct, at least for some of our brother and sister Lanterns, Blue Green and Indigo most often band together. And yes, green is willpower," he leaves Indigo a mystery seeing if she can guess. "And you are correct about the connotations of red, they represent rage. However, our friend Razer did not choose not to use his ring, he couldn't, rage fades in the presence of strong sources of hope, it was likely one of the reasons he was so grumpy. That and having to go back empty handed to a being as formidable and unforgiving as this Mars you mention."

"I was chosen," Walker says without braggadocio, just a simple statment of fact. "My world's sun was dying and my people with it, I went on a journey of hope and at it's end I found my ring, with it, I and the Guardians of the Blue Lantern corps were able to heal my sun and save my world," he says with a smile. "After that I became a Blue Lantern with the purpose of spreading hope beyond just my world but to the entire universe."

There's a sense while he is being truthful he is holding back, giving her the Coles Notes version rather than regailing her with the full tale.

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
The floating over of the crackers is watched with much bemusement - she'd be more startled by the fact if she hadn't already seen more powerful feats from the strange man. "Those are very much crackers. We often eat them with soup. Uh.. flavourful broth that may have bits of meats or vegetables in it. Sometimes both. But, yes, if you eat those, they should cleanse your palate. You should sip some water, too. If your dinner were wine, you wouldn't have swallowed the tastes, but spit them out after swooshing them in your mouth."

She gives Saint Walker a look that imparts she doens't understand it either.

"However, that's food, so you do eat it. We're very complicated sometimes."

Done with her own food now, or so it seems, Kinsey is happy to settle back with her coffee. "I'll tell him when I get up for a refill." Listening further. "Ah. I see. So similar types work together. And your friend, Razer.. Hrm. I can see that. Hope and rage don't compliment one another. They would negate. You can't be angry when you're filled with hopefulness. Rather polar opposites."

She hazards a guess on Indigo, "Blue and purple are often seen as tranquil colours, though purple is traditionally warmer than blue. Often associated with more sensual things. Lust. Love. By your saying you work together well, I'd lean towards Love myself. Note quite hope, but close in its own way. Certainly an accepting emotion."

She smiles gently, adding with a small chuckle, "You are rather formidable. I can see how you might have extinguished your friend's rage. He didn't seem very happy about it. You'll have to thank him anyway for us. I know it must have been frustrating to feel some obligation to help, but be unable to use your abilities to the fullest."

The rest of his story has her pausing, and listening in silence. Finally, "I see. That must have been very difficult for you, to hold so much faith that things would turn out okay, not just for yourself, but your people and your world. No wonder you were chosen. Such an honour and a responsibilty. You bear it well."

Saint Walker has posed:
"Ah, excellent, I had thought so," Walker observes before opening the little packet with two crackers, he offers one to Kinsey. "And yes, we have soup as well, it is another of those universal things, there are many foods that are, except for Gin and Tonic, everyone has something called that, but it's different on every world."

He shares her confusion about sloshing and spitting wine. "Is the wine here no good? I have not heard the Green Lantern talk much about it, mostly beer." There is a smile about that. "And most species are complicated in their way, and spitting out perfectly good wine is not the strangest custom I've heard of."

"And yes, exactly, when you are hopeful there is no room for rage in your heart, which is why Razer's powers faltered. It was ill timing, but he bore it well all things considered and helped save you and your friends, I hope my path crosses his again, I should very much like to have another chance to speak with him, he seems and interesting young man," Though it's unlikely the feeling is mutual.

"And you are correct, Indigo is compassion or love, depending on who you ask, though at present they seem to cleave closer to the latter definition," he says with a little shrug. "And it is most definitely an accepting emotion."

Walker nods, "It was a difficult time but one that lead to many great things, someday I shall tell you the full story. As for the source of hope that diminished Razer's powers it was not only me Kinsey McKenna, it was you as well."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"I'm not really sure why they spit it out. I've heard one of the reasons is so that you don't get drunk. Oh! Coffee. Coffee is a cleanser as well - only the beans. You sniff them. So it's for aroma. I'm not sure why I just thought of that. As to the wine, again, I don't quite understand it, though I guess if you were tasting enough wine you really might not want to drink so much. Or perhaps they do not mix well in your stomach. It is usually ill advised to mix your alcohols."

That he knows of beer makes her chuckle. As does the comment on gin and tonic, and soup. "Soup must be universal. A hot liquid, with all the bits and pieces that are about to otherwise go bad. As well as tough meats made moist and tender by stewing in the broth. I always have believed people are more the same than different. I don't actually imagine that once you get past our DNA that our species are very different either. Not really."

She gives a soft shrug, and sips her coffee. "I'm not a sociologist, though. My specialty is genetic engineering. If you want a guide to humans and humanity we could probably find you a good one."

She seems pleased to have guessed Indigo correctly, and that her logic was sound. "Ah, yes. Compassion. Which is not really all that different than love. It allows us to embrace the other within our hearts. Not an easy feat to do. It takes someone exceptional to be that accepting and forgiving of others."

"I'd like that," he's told softly, of the whole story. "It gives me hope that we'll see one another again some day. Not just this momentary blip in the fabric of our lives." She's about to sip again, when his words give her pause, "Oh really? Me?" Thoughtful, she does sip, before speaking again. "So anyone's hope can negate their power? That hardly seems right. They'd be stopped, well, hrm." Thoughtful again. "Perhaps not. Hope is a difficult thing for many. Anger humans abound with. But me? Really? Hrm. I suppose I had a moment there, trying to keep the others from losing faith."

She shrugs as she sighs, and looks into her now empty mug. "They never last long enough, these cups of coffee."

Saint Walker has posed:
"That would make sense, I suppose enough testing would leave one quite intoxicated," Walker says thoughtfully "And yes, I've heard the mixing of liquors can be quite unfortunate. Especially if you like the clothing you are wearing."

"Yes, I think the needs that require soup have happened to all species no matter where they live in the Universe," he thinks for a moment. "Well, actually I did meet a race of sentient jellyfish like beings that lived in the upper strata of a gas giant, they did not have soup or any other food for that matter, but you are not wrong about people, whether you are human, Astorian or a sentient jellyfish floating in a gas giant, we all just beings that want the same things, belonging, love, hope, all the best things in life. We just sometimes get lost along the way, or let the physical difference obscure the sameness of our hearts."

"Metaphorically speaking of course."

As for the guide to humans and humanity he nods, "Perhaps on another visit," he says politely, after all he was here with a purpose and he did not know how long it would allow him to linger.

"It is very difficult to accept others, and to forgive, take W'lek for example, despite the bad thing he did you stood up for him and for your principles."

Which brings him to the matter of hope. "No, not anyone, only those with the light of hope in their hearts, which is as you say is a difficult thing for many but we do our best to inspire it, and hope that it spreads to others, which is why I'd hoped we speak again, Hope burns bright in your heart Kinsey McKenna, I believe you may have it within you to become a Blue Lantern."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"Another time," Kinsey agrees with a soft reluctance. "You must be very busy. And it's not like I don't have enough work of my own right now. It was unfortunate what happened, but on the bright side, we can rebuidl the labs easily enough, and how often does someone like myself get to be part of the building of a cutting edge laboratory? It's, well, as I say, unfortunate the circumstances, but I"m actually looking forward to this."

The last drips of coffee are drained from her mug.

Thoughtfully, the mug set upon the table, but kept craddled in her hands. "What Willard - W'lek - did was deplorable, but I'd not be a lot better if I sent him off to what sounded like a certain death. Someone has to speak up when someone else is unable to. I was in a position to. I don't have to like him to do what's right." She doesn't make it sound like she finds it extraordinary, rather more like it's just what you do.

She's about to excuse herself for another mug of coffee to enjoy before returning to the overseeing of the clearing of the labs, when his words stop her. "Me?"

There's a soft, disbelieving laugh under her breath. "Oh, I don't know about that. I'm.. just.. me? I really don't have a story like yours. Just someone who.." Her hands spread wide in a gesture of inability to find the right words.

Saint Walker has posed:
"I am indeed very busy, but that does not mean I cannot make time for friends, even busy ones," Walker offers grinning. "And yes, despite the disaster here, all will be well, I can already see that."

The station was pulling together to fix the damage and by the sound of what Kinsey said, replace the old equipment with better versions.

He listens intently to what Kinsey has to say about Willard, nodding in agreement. "Yes, you are correct, someone must speak up when someone isn't able to and to do the right thing despite their personal feelings."

"Yes, you have demonstrated all the qualities we look for in a Blue Lantern, even if times were not as troubling as they were I'd be inclined to offer you this opportunity. Come with me to Odym, you will be tested there, and if you are as I suspect, worthy of a ring, then you will have begun a brilliant new chapter of your life. If you are not granted a ring, then you will still have stood on alien world few of your kind have ever seen and be able to take what you've learned back to your people. In the end all you have to loose is your uncertainty."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
Kinsey rewraps her hands about her coffee mug. "Now, see, there's an offer I can't refuse. To stand on an alien world, let alone one very few of my kind have seen."

She hrms under her breath, sounding pleased.

"If you were someone else, I'd think you were pulling my leg. Er.. Joking. But you make it sound all so delighfully serious."

Kinsey sits up more fully, and sits back in her seat, looking contemplative. "Even if times weren't this troubling, you'd be inclined? It would almost be rude to decline after that." Her lips bow across a smile. "I tell you what, I'll do as you suggest, and come with you. Try this test of yours. You are correct, I've nothing really to lose." Other than, perhaps, if he's playing her for a fool, even if her gut says he's not intending her any harm. "Except maybe my dignity, and it's been bruised before. I'm sure that will happen again. However, there's a small matter of the station."

Which does present a certain personal dilemna, even if she could pass the overseeing of the cleanup to someone else. "How long would I be gone?"

Days would be one matter. Weeks or months would require a choice from the woman between two once in a lifetime opportunities. Which made her stop and consider, if that were the choice, which would she choose? The station, and the rebuilding of the labs? Something every scientist of her calibre dreamed or. Or to visit a foreign planet, an alien world, and step foot on its soil - a personal dream, and again, something few actually got to do.

Already knowing which she'd choose, despite still having to ask.

Saint Walker has posed:
"I thought that may be the case," Walker says of his offer, smiling. There is no guile or trickery in that smile, just pleasure that he had guessed what might appeal to Kinsey about the trip.

"Yes, a heart so full of hope is hard to find, it would be a shame not to see if you have what it takes to join my brothers and sisters in the Corps," he observes and then nods, "A very wise decision, one I feel you will not regret," he says when she agrees to come with him.

As to how long: "Three days is traditional," he anwers. "Though it might be wise to assume it could be as long as a week. If you are concerned about letting your friends know how long you will be gone."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"To be honest, I was considering what it might mean if the trip were longer. To the project here." She can't help but give a small, amused at herself laugh. "Of course I know what the answer would be regardless. It would be sad to miss the opportunity here on the station, but I'd always wonder what it might have been like to set foot on another world. There will be other stations."

There's a nod of acceptance to that statement.

"And, of course your faith that perhaps I'm something more than I see in myself. I'll admit, it's flattering. I think I'd like to know the answer to that as well." Flattered and hopeful in turns, along with a certainty that she's nothing so special as he suggests, though she's made her peace with that long ago. She's happy enough to be herself.

"I really haven't anyone to inform, other than here on the station, but I'm sure you have other tasks. When should I prepare for?|"

Saint Walker has posed:
Walker nods, "I cannot promise what getting your ring might mean for your work here, or your life on Earth," he says. "I have not been back to my world for some time, but I do not regret it. It is safe and I am bringing hope to the Universe."

There is a look of understanding in Walker's eyes at the mention of not knowing, of the what if's that might haunt her if she didn't go. He understood those questions, he'd lived them once, nearly a decade earlier, and had made a similar choice.

There is a faint look of sympathy at the notion of having no one else to inform beside collegues as he answers her question, "I have a few tasks left but I should be ready to leave by tomorrow. Will that be too soon?"

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
"You have a lot of faith in me," Kinsey says simply. "I think probably more than I deserve. I'd always wonder, though. My mother, she'd say, 'Why are you still standing here, girl? Go. You'll never know if you don't try."

Her features soften, "I miss her. And tomorrow would be just fine. I'll finish up what I can in the labs tonight, and hand off the responsibility for the few days at least to my colleague Petra Merkins. She'll do a good job while I'm gone, and if things turn out as you suggest, she's more than capable of taking over the rebuild project."

In truth, Kinsey's mother might not be so pleased by this turn of events as Kinsey thinks. She might have been much more cautious about the thoughts of her daughter travelling out in space - for reasons Kinsey isn't aware of yet. Still, her mother had always been the first to tell her daughter to reach for the stars - if not so literally. That nothing ever came of believing you can't.

Kinsey rises from her seat, and reaches out a reassuring hand to Saint Walker's shoulder. "You're a good man, Brother Walker." This time using the title Brother without that amusement, nothing but sincerity behind it. "We need more people like you." Uncertain why she felt he needed to hear that, but equally certain he did.

Saint Walker has posed:
"I do doubt that you deserve my faith Kinsey McKenna, in time, I believe you will cease to doubt it as well," Walker offers with quiet confidence. "Your mother sounds like she was a very bold and very wise woman, I am sure she would be proud of you and you should listen to her advice."

He puts a hand on her arm from across the table in a quiet gesture of support. "All will be well," he offers, of her departed mother. He doesn't bother with the details of passing things off in the lab, but the offer of support is met with a earnest smile of appreciation, which looks almost comical on his strange face, "Well, I hope I have found at least one more," he returns to her with a nod. "We shall find out soon."

He raises a hand, saying: "Until tomorrow, Kinsey McKenna."

Kinsey MacKenna has posed:
Kinsey's laughter trails away as she takes her leave, "Oh, I have always tried to take her advice. She was a good and wise woman. I hope to one day live up to her example." Which is to say, she'd loved and respected the woman who had shaped and formed her outlook on life, and the moral code she tried to live by.

"Until tomorrow then. I'll be ready."

Whether she means ready to go, or ready for the trials is unclear. Perhaps, both.