The Navigator observed.

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Watching the output that Pylo Courtesan presented to all of her extended social network.

Noting the way she managed them, siloed and processed their impressions of her. Filtered and tuned the language. The quality and craft of her cached and processed responses.

It had spooled up many of the instanced branches she had already presented. And even for a Siren of Courtesan’s offspring it was an impressive and nuanced presentation.

The accumulated work of a lifetime of a highly skilled and well trained expression of her species, her position and her family.

It was a credit to her even with the added support and traditions of her extended family still shoring up her lapses in attention.

A valuable and highly nuanced preamble to the official ‘beginning’ of her presentation of aptitude.

The Navigator observed and Pylo Presented and it watched the effect she had on the rest of the crew, on the Dragoon pair and their extended network in their respective legions.

It was to be honest the weakest trial she surpassed but one that would have been unacceptable if she was found incapable.

Only a defective Courtesan could fail to win over so carefully tailored and honed a faith as the Dragoons of the Matriarch’s Gown held for them.

The Navigator contemplated Pylo. She was uncertain, desperate, she signaled these things in what would be for a less capable audience hidden subtleties and layers.

She honestly and desperately wanted to be accepted. She bled and oozed it both metaphorically and physically. Every limb, every molecule was practically saturating in that desperate desire to succeed.

The Navigator had not been finalized until precisely right before this presentation. There had still been last minute adjustments, testing and polish to perform.

In that regard Pylo was much the same as it.

She was born of a mother and tended, trained, pruned through experience and lessons and other fluid methods.

But that did not change how she was no less of a tool shaped to fit the purpose as The Navigator was.

A smooth and organic mirror of The Navigator’s own regimented iteration and design process.

She could not see the stars and contemplate the futures of those that dwelt around them as clearly as The Navigator.

But Pylo would be able to speak to whatever they might find that The Navigator failed to consider.

She could not recognize the deeper underlying trends of market and ecology that would conspire to a confluence of demand in anywhere near the detail and exactness as The Navigator.

But Pylo would taste currents of politics, meaning and culture that would have strained and stressed The Navigator catastrophically.

She could not look upon the reef in the throes of deepest acceleration and apprehend the truth with the speed and capacity necessary to give advice and guidance to the vessel.

But Pylo could speak to every layer of the ecology and metabolism of their shared vessel in a way that The Navigator could never understand.

But that was irrelevant. It would hold true of any Siren of Courtesan.

Most important of all, beyond all her capabilities and desperation to be accepted. Beyond the transparent pressures that the Courtesan Sisterhood had used to drive this Scion on this path.

Beyond the indeterminate but undoubtedly incredibly deep machinations of the Mother Courtesan herself upon which an Empire in all but name pivoted and turned.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

For all the hidden secret plots of A being at the center of an Interstellar maelstrom of alliance and governance that carried The Navigator and all within Matriarch’s Gown and its vassals in her wake.

All of that was barely more then an inconsequential factor in The Navigator’s appraisal of Pylo and her performance.

No the most important factor was obvious, it was something that The Navigator bent and twisted and burnt great strain against its own nature to verify.

It pulled on every archive, every iota of data.

It queried secondary opinions, drew upon the harshest but still fair critics of Courtesan and its legion of Sirens.

The Navigator took in all that could be found about Pylo, Scion and the child of the namesake Matriarch of Matriarch’s Gown.

The Navigator performed its purpose as the tool it was made to be and sought the path and the projection of one Siren child.

And the projection it honed at great metabolic cost and mounting requisites for repair and refurbishment on many internal components could not be any more clear.

The most vital aspect of Pylo’s character passed the most important of tests.

The Navigator was Satisfied.

The two of them were aligned in a single course, and now at last it could rev down it’s substrates and begin coolant cycling.

Trading the erratic chaos that had built up within its elements for the provided crystalline coolant sinks made available by the staff of the Catharsisium.

The vaporizing solids were sufficient in their paired resonance to wick away the strain of the deep computation along channels ill suited to them.

Solin and Nolin noted what would normally be the highly excessive coolant usage and the potency of the heat that had been dumped into it.

Already they had been evaluated by The Navigator and accepted that they too met and exceeded the requisite and most vital test.

“So does she meet with YOUR approval Navigator?”

The Navigator could trust they would not deviate. Minimal projection and computation was needed for them now.

An affirmative was passed to both of the Dragoons.

“YES”

So too was Pylo now Trusted.

She had passed the only test required, the rest of her skill and aptitude was merely further beneficial supplements against that.

The Navigator knew everything it needed to about this Scion of Courtesan.

The only thing it needed to know about her.

Pylo would NEVER hurt Tunie.

In this The Navigator was certain and satisfied.

It proceeded to shift its attention to the more important task of how precisely they would handle their first port of call after departure and what adjustments to the goods they would depart with might be recommended.

Adjusting and tweaking the weights according to the Crew’s various aptitudes and capabilities.

It was unfeasible that such would exceed the accuracy of projections already made by the Port Authority itself. But proving to them It could be trusted with Tunie’s safety was it’s ongoing test.

Making sure the Crew could protect Tunie was one of The Navigator’s primary functions.

Nothing less was acceptable.

But It could not compute everything in the time that would sometimes be demanded, it was honed to its role. And this came with costs.

The Navigator was fitted and shaped well to fit with and complement its role to the rest of the Crew.

Thus the need for the expenditure outside of the near effortless paths of its proper function to ensure they were trustworthy.

But that was done. Their goals were aligned, their dedication was comparable.

The Navigator was satisfied.

It would work well with all of them.

It would require input from them all, but before then projections could be made and proposals prepared. Amendments and suggestions made available, insights curated.

The theatrics and memetics in the Catharsisium would continue for the sake of the others but The Navigator was finished with it.

Pylo could be trusted as Crew.

Tunie would be safe with her.

Everything else was in comparison completely unimportant.