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Topic Summary

Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: Yesterday at 09:04:02 PM »

Salem nods. "It makes sense, yeah. It's a very impressive technology. Just wanted to know the... uh... patient's... priority..."

"Callous much?" mutters Al, then he looks at Ossanlin. "I can't actually thought-speak," He admits with a shrug and a half smile. "Can the system take verbal commands? Or better yet, can I actually interface electronically with it? Andalite tech isn't too bad for me."

"Could you use the ship's thought-speak?" asks Salem.

"Still broken," says Al.

Salem's brow furrows as he thinks. "What if you reversed the interface between the ship and my implant? Could you use the ship to thought-speak through me?"

Al sighs exasperatedly. "You organics think alien technologies just interface however you want them to, don't you? Science is freaking magic. Just reverse the polarity on a couple of things and the ship will do whatever the heck you dream up" he says sarcastically, waving his hands in the air. He turns to Ossanlin. "I think I could do it, though. You want to give Doctor Sketchy over there," he jerks a thumb at Salem, "medbay clearance, or should I try to go at this thing over the wi-fi?"
Posted by: Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)
« on: May 22, 2017, 01:43:30 AM »

Ossanlin gestures to Al.  <By all means...the interface is thought-based, so if you're capable of some form of thought-speech...>  He pauses a moment before continuing.  <I've given you access to the med-bay controls.>  He arches his eyebrow again, impressed with Al's abilities.  He assumes the lockout on the rest of the ship will keep Al out of any systems that have nothing to do with the med-bay...

He trains a stalk-eye on Salem.  <Surely you understand the value of morphing.  It's one of our greatest advantages in a decades-long conflict which concerns the fate of the entire galaxy.  I cannot simply dispense it out of turn.>  He looks down at Nepek.  <He's a seer, and a Hork-Bajir.  So he's precious, and likely doesn't deserve this fate.  The blood of the majority of his species stains Andalite hands, and the blood of those who remain alive stains the palps of the Empire.>  He pauses, closing his eyes, his tone remaining cool and collected.  <But what is one life against thousands, hundreds of thousands...perhaps millions or even billions?>
Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: May 21, 2017, 10:26:38 PM »

"I can tell," Salem confirms distractedly, but doesn't go into any more detail. He finally finds what he's looking for, and places the tip of the needle-less syringe into a little divot in the center of the Hork-Bajir's chest. He mouths a count of three in Gallard, and then depresses the plunger. There's a few-second-long hiss as the contents of the syringe- a rather potent painkiller- are released into the Hork-Bajir's bloodstream. "Give him... what, sixty seconds or so before starting any adrenaline," Salem says, straightening up. He pauses. "Unless there's no choice. Could be rough on his heart if that hasn't diffused first." He turns and looks at Ossanlin. "So even if the morphing technology were close at hand, it wouldn't be an option for this one?"

"Could we use those force field tubes," Al points at the blood flowing from the morphed Andalite, "to get blood flowing into his lower bits properly?"

Salem raises his eyebrows, the frowns down at the Hork-Bajir. "I... actually don't know if that could work." He thinks for a few seconds, then turns back to Ossanlin. "I've no idea where the blood vessels..."

"Actually," interrupts Al, stepping up beside Salem, "I do." His eyes focus in the middle distance as if he's reading. "Main artery here," he says, pointing between two seemingly-random points in the mess that apparently mark the severed ends of a major blood vessel. "Uh... main veins here..." he points to two other spots... "and I think the other one's actually intact." He looks at Ossanlin, questioningly. "If you could set up the force fields to serve as... just... ducts in those locations, it might help." He indicates Forlin. "You could scan him for any other necessary routing. He's the perfect road map, but I don't know how sophisticated your fields are. I can also project some if needed."
Posted by: Terenia
« on: May 20, 2017, 02:17:48 AM »

"Fascinating," Yeden says, sitting back in his chair as he regards Keshin. "You're assuming I have problems that require a turelek," he points out. "Which, I'm going to presume, means my colleague here has already offered you a job." He glances at Jorek, making a tsk sound, then leans forward to pull one of the many plates of food towards him. It's blue and gooey and certainly not from Earth.

"Keshin, why don't you sit with us," Yeden says, nodding to one of the chairs. "There's plenty of food, and it's been a long time since I had a conversation of any substance with someone of your profession."
Posted by: Shenmue654
« on: May 17, 2017, 07:59:52 PM »

"That is pretty much all that happens here," Keshin calls out with a grin back at Dalik as she prepares to leave. "Oh, and magic. And sex. And  sometimes love, apparently. But all of that sounds trite, now doesn't it?" Keshin shrugs in Jorek's direction. "As for a babysitter, well we haven't yet determined whether or not you need one."

<<Careful, Keshin. You yourself just said we don't know who these ****ing guys are.>>

<<If they object too directly, they'd either have to get into an argument, a fight, or show their hand too obviously with what technology and resources they have in that fight. It makes perfect sense to me.>>

"And yes, I'm a turelek who has achieved something of a reputation for eliminating people's unwanted problems," says Keshin. "Whether I'll eliminate either of your problems comes down to what's in it for a freelancer, and whether you'd be willing to postpone it until you've both left."
"I wasn't at all involved in what happened," Mar says softly, his eyes briefly flitting over her agile hands and then meeting her gaze. "Whatever it was--- I no longer know--- I could not have been. In fact, true to my promise love, I have been staying as far out of your business as I can. But whatever has happened...You seem desperately troubled, and I can't ignore that fully. Your own death wouldn't bother you this much. That I know."

Mar turned away and in the direction of Ossanlin's ship. "The War-Prince is working on something and I wish to see him again, and perhaps to aid the party. If you want to keep pretending nothing is wrong, I won't stop you, Precious." He then began to walk away from Myitt for a short distance, heading towards the smell of imminent death.
Posted by: Myitt
« on: May 16, 2017, 02:07:34 AM »

"Keshin, this is my associate." Jorek gives the other man a prudent glance. "His name is Yeden. Yeden, meet Keshin. A bounty hunter of some talent, from what I understand."

He eyes Dalik as the teenaged girl - Controller retreats. "Fine, my dear, I'm sorry to have upset you!" Jorek grins, waving at her back. "Goodness." He turns back to Yeden and Keshin. "As if she were my babysitter. Imagine that?" He chuckles.

Myitt works silently for a moment or two, ignoring Mar - or at least, trying to.

"I don't need your commentary," she murmurs, accentuating the statement with a slice of metal. "I don't need your glib attitude. And I don't...just...will you..." She closes her eyes, forces herself to take a steadying breath, and says, "Mar. I don't know how you found me here, but I really, really need you to go away. You remind me of too many terrible, blood-curdling things that have happened to me. Not least of which is, you know, death."

Rather than getting fired up, she just sits there, shoulders slumped, methodically reshaping the strips of metal. Like clay or living tissue, it knits and forms and melts together before solidifying again.

Posted by: Terenia
« on: May 16, 2017, 12:20:09 AM »

Dalik freezes when Keshin speaks to her. "Is that all that happens in this place?" she demands. "People being stabbed and shot and otherwise mortally wounded?" She scoffs. "I have better things to do than risk my life."

She glances at Yeden and Jorek, then back at Keshin. "Oh, by the Kandrona," she hisses, turning on her heel and stalking out of the bar. "If you want to get yourself killed," she calls over her shoulder to Jorek, "be my guest."

Yeden's eyebrows raise curiously. "Angry little thing you've picked up," he comments, watching Dalik depart before turning his attention back to Jorek. "I'm not off-duty, as it were. In fact, I am very, very much on-duty at the moment, and I have all the credits I need."

Glancing at Keshin, he smiles. "Let me guess," he says. "You're the latest to be offered anything and everything you desire. All you have to do in return is a favor for my friend here. Is that right?"
Posted by: Shenmue654
« on: May 15, 2017, 01:26:14 PM »

Keshin turns around. "Introduce me? If that is all you want to do, I suppose we're fine with it."

Keshin walks back to the two men and shakes his head. "Alright, what do you want?"

<If he introduces us as Hawaiian shirt guy's assassin, we're ****ed, you know that right? We can't afford another game of life and death in this place. We've already had like three!>

<Let's sincerely hope he isn't that stupid.>
Mar grins. "Now normally what I'd do is split into two and take you up on that one,  but--- ah!" Mar makes a mocking "Oh no!" gesture and briefly stands on one leg. "The limits of mortality! It's nice to see you again too, lovely, although you aren't the only reason I dropped in."

Mar glances in the general direction of the other group and attempts to probe the situation as best he can. Nepek seems no closer to not dying than when that group began, and there isn't a great deal Mar himself could do about it. Not without doing a good deal of damage to this body, and even then his abilities didn't really have utility when it came to healing. He sighs and watches Myitt do her delicate work. The Yeerk's focus and skill never ceased to impress him.

"You're trying to forget about something by distracting yourself," says Mar. "What is it?"
Posted by: Myitt
« on: May 15, 2017, 12:19:21 AM »

Jorek cheerfully ignores Dalik, his attention on the man in the Hawaiian shirt.

"Oh you do?" he asks with a bright, placid smile. "With what credit? How will you ah, barter, for the mess you've made here? Because I can assure you the Empire can't very well afford to give you an advance."

He looks Yeden up and down with visible distaste, smile fading. "Certainly not when you're off-duty," he remarks, straightening his own black uniform.

Then he spies Keshin, heading for the door. "Wait, don't go," Jorek calls to the turelek. "I'd very much like to introduce you to my friend here."

Myitt keeps her white-knuckled grip on the torch. For a few heartbeats she seems ready to follow him, though why, she can't be sure.

"I'm busy," she says finally, through gritted teeth. "If you're going to stay and make small talk then at least help me construct these ****ing goggles. But I'd really prefer if you went and ****ed yourself."

She lowers the torch and sits heavily on the ground, next to the discarded welding shield, and starts to pull pieces of wobbly, fluid-like black metal towards her.
Posted by: Shenmue654
« on: May 14, 2017, 11:45:36 PM »

"The main Andalite who frequents this Bar rarely means any harm to Yeerks," says Keshin, taking control and glancing over at Yeden and then at Jorek with a cautious expression. He wasn't sure if Jorek was going to take this opportunity to murder Yeden, or if they were just going to stand there and talk about whatever such powerful men did talk about. "And I think that I'm going to go after them."

Keshin then heads for the door to the Bar and passes by the irritated Dalik. He rolls his eyes. "Your brother probably isn't coming because he either sent you here to get rid of you, or the Bar wants you here and not him. Would you like to come out and assist the rescue team with me? It could be interesting while you're waiting."
Mar laughs. "Entirely by accident, lovely! From what I remember, the Bartender did the deed in the first place! And yes, like it or not, you're still my precious." He smirks. "Put the weapon down, alright? There are better things we could be doing. Someone's been shot."
Posted by: Terenia
« on: May 14, 2017, 07:30:02 PM »

"Friendly?" Dalik sputters in disbelief, staring at Jorek as if he's lost his mind. "What--" She cuts her protest off, shaking her head. "Unbelievable," she hisses through her teeth. "You are...utterly unbelievable. That's it. I'm leaving. This place is absolutely absurd and it's clear by now that my brother isn't coming and--" She stops herself again as Jorek turns away to speak with the strangely dressed man.

"And you're not even listening to me," she finishes. "Wonderful."

Yeden pulls his attention from Sorin, regarding Jorek with a carefully neutral expression. "I'm perfectly capable of paying my own tab," he responds, though he does raise a hand to wave the bartender over.
Posted by: Myitt
« on: May 14, 2017, 07:10:19 PM »

"They're actually quite friendly," Jorek retorts to Dalik with a small, self-indulgent smile. He looks around the relatively deserted bar counter space. "In any case, they've decided to leave me to perform some sort of medical miracle."

Myitt keeps the welding torch aloft, aiming it at Mar, unlit. "I'm not your ****ing 'Precious'," she snarls. "Are you forgetting the part where you killed me?"

Jorek, in the brand new semi-calm, picks out Yeden's name as clear as a bell.

"You know," he tells Yeden, leaning a little on the bar, "you should tell that creature to quit producing one of every practicable product this place can provide. Do you think I'm going to pay for it?"
Posted by: Terenia
« on: May 14, 2017, 02:47:02 PM »

The curly-haired man blinks, the reference evidently going over his head.

"Yeden One-Eight-Three of the Sulp Niar pool," he says. Licking his lips, he adds, "You may call me Yeden." He doesn't ask for Sorin's name, a frown etched into his features as he regards the bar at large, as if one of the Andalites might pop out of the woodwork.

Near his former seat, the pile of food continues to grow.
Posted by: Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)
« on: May 14, 2017, 12:23:46 PM »

Ossanlin frowns a bit at Salem's casual mention of the Escafil device.  <As far as I know, he's no longer a controller.  From what little I gathered, he's not been one for some time.>  He narrows his eyes at Salem, the realization of just whom he'd allowed on his ship coming into full focus.  <Besides...wouldn't you be able to tell?>

He looks again at Nepek.  <Firstly I can't simply spread the morphing technology to every free being that walks through the door of the Bar...I cannot think of a grosser abuse of power.  Secondly, I do not have an Escafil device with me.>  He doesn't mention that one is kept locked up on the Tyrennian...but then the Tyrennian isn't 'with' him at the moment.
Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: May 14, 2017, 12:13:52 PM »

Salem watches for a moment, transfixed, as Ossanlin's ship begins siphoning the blood of the morphed Andalite-- he has, indeed, morphed the Hork-Bajir on the table. That's a clever use of the morphing technology. No quicker way to ensure a safe supply of blood.

When the morphed Andalite asks if the Hork-Bajir will be okay, he shakes his head and turns to Ossanlin. "Man, I'm a field medic at best. This..." his throat works as he considers the unconscious Hork-Bajir on the lev-table for a moment. "This is beyond me. He might survive, if he's very, very lucky, but it would take a miracle for him to keep his legs at all, let alone ever being able to use them again."

He turns his gaze towards Al, questioningly. Al returns his gaze, eyebrow raised, in an expression that's somehow stern, serious, scared, and every bit as questioning as Salem's. Finally, Salem frowns and shakes his head. <<Not yet.>>

He kneels and begins rifling through his medical bag, looking for something. "What about the morphing technology?" he asks Ossanlin, sounding... almost too casual. "If you have one of those cube-dealies, I might be able to stimulate his consciousness long enough to allow the change."

He stands up holding what looks a little like another syringe, only this one lacks a needle. He leans over the Hork-Bajir and begins probing with his fingers again, this time along the Hork-Bajir's chest, where the sternum would be if he were human. He's fully aware that he's nearly surrounded by the creature's blades on all sides, but it doesn't seem to be his largest concern at the moment.

"Is he a controller, or just the host at this point?" he asks.